She nods, still unnervingly silent, and walks him to the nondescript door.

She pulls out a key, and Finn pulls a piece of paper from his breast pocket.

“Here’s the address. You’ll find her there.”

I look between them. They’re both so calm. I feel like a ghost, unseen, howling in the hallways desperate for someone to just look at me.

“FINN. TELL ME NOW.” I haven’t shouted like this since I was a child throwing a tantrum over William getting more penny candy than me.

Why did I ever stop? It feels so good to let the screaming inside me out into the world. I relish the shocked look on Finn’s face.

“Jesus, Frances, give me a minute, I’ll explain.”

“No, explain now.”

He sighs like I’ve annoyed him by mucking up whatever slick plan he’s been concocting for God knows how long.

“She’s looking for someone. I helped her, so she’s helping me.”

As I should have expected, his explanation begs more questions than answers. “Who?” I demand. “What is she doing for you?”

He looks to the nun, who nods, giving him permission to go on. She’s not old, maybe forty, with unsettling sea-glass-green eyes.

“Sister Evangeline is a member of an ancient order of nuns, the Sisters of Saint Joan. A sister recently went missing. I told her where she was.”

I remember my very first day at Haxahaven so long ago when Maxine told me the school used to be a monastery. The students, rather than playacting as tuberculosis patients, pretended to be young nuns. I supposed Haxahaven wasn’t the only sect of witches to try the ruse. Women aren’t stupid, and there are a limited number of places men leave us alone.

A chill spider walks down my spine. It was so warm aboveground, but this basement has me shivering in my gauzy tea gown.

“How did you know where she is?”

“She’s with Les Selectionnes, near Fontainebleau.”

Ah. Finn’s creepy little commune by the lake. I wonder if they are missing their leader. “You sold her out?”

“It was a necessary trade.” He doesn’t look remorseful. He looks fine, perfectly relaxed. My heart is beating a mile a minute in my chest, but his breathing is steady.

“What did you trade for, Finn? If you lie to me, I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

He scoffs, “I wouldn’t lie to you, Frances. That’s not something I do anymore. I traded for this.” He nods at the nun, who walks to the door, pulls out a golden key, and unlatches it with a small click.

“What’s behind the door?” My voice comes out small, faraway.

He takes a step closer and puts both hands on my shoulders. “You already know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

The door opens to a stairwell black as death. The nun gestures with a thin hand for us to go ahead.