Madeleine prepared for bed. The end of this endless day was so close, but she couldn’t skip the last step. She crossed herself, bowed her head, and said the same words she always did.

“My God,” she whispered, “I adore you, and I thank you for the many favors you bestowed upon me this day—I⁠—”

The words crowded and clogged in her throat. This time, the urge to laugh was bitter. Oh yes, how could Madeleine not be grateful for all the “favors” she’d received today? It was almost as bad as the night she’d lain awake at Sacred Heart before admitting she had to leave.

God could fill in the blanks for once.

“Amen,” she muttered, and crawled into bed. Her limbs seemed to weigh a thousand pounds apiece, and the bed creaked beneath her. These springs must have been working hard for twenty years. The pillow was thin too. If you changed a few significant details, she might be back in her convent bedroom.

No. No more thinking about Sacred Heart or anything else. Her brain was about to give up the ghost, and she should let it before things got even worse. Madeleine closed her eyes and sought her rest.

Things got even worse.

Behind her eyelids, Hæra lounged against a metal fence and gave her the same soft, mysterious smile she’d worn when they met.

A gasp escaped Madeleine. Her eyes flew open, and Hæra disappeared, although she left some evidence behind. Chiefly, Madeleine’s hammering heart and dry mouth. Somehow, this was even worse than the homosexuality thing. Maybe because it had kick-started the homosexuality thing.

Worse, and absurd to boot. Hæra was rude. She was brusque. She was much younger than Madeleine—by fifteen years, probably. An age gap was hardly the worst part of this, but it didn’t help. Moreover, she was odd. That whole thing about Christ telling Madeleine to ask for an apology? At first, she’d been sure that Hæra was being sarcastic—and disrespectful. But sincerity had glowed in her strange eyes.

So had something else. Madeleine couldn’t identify it, but whatever it was, it sent a wave of heat up and down her body.

Ridiculous. Yes, Hæra was objectively attractive, even if it was in a way Madeleine had never encountered before. That shouldn’t stack up against her behavior. Especially not the way she’d seized Madeleine, hard and fast. As if she had a right to it, as if Madeleine…belonged to her.

What had she said? Something about the beach being dangerous. Madeleine had been too overwhelmed to take in everything. Hæra’s body had been so warm against her own, and that was odd too. The weather was cold and windy, and Hæra hadn’t even been wearing a sweater. She seemed to make her own heat: heat she’d been ready to share.