This burden is sometimes too much to bear. The Heart must be kept, but at what cost?

We must find the pieces that have been lost to time. We must. We have to bring them together to save her. Even if it is too late, we must still do this.

Absyrtus in pieces, everlasting life.

Absyrtus made whole, master of death.

Maybe I’ll set aside this terrible task and let this family pass into legend and myth like our ancestors before us.

Tucked between the last pages of the sketchbook was a single sheet of paper, sealed between two pieces of plastic casing. As I studied it under the glow of my flashlight, I thought “paper” might not have been the right word to describe it. It was more like fabric. I could see the individual fibers poking out from its uneven edges. It was covered top to bottom in lettering that looked a lot like the Greek I’d seen in the books about Medea. It was riddled with holes, so I assumed the casing was the only thing keeping it from falling apart.

I set the book on top of the desk and reached into the compartment to see if there was anything else. A wadded-up piece of cloth was shoved inside, near the back. As I pulled it free, something clattered to the ground.

I picked up the object. It was a small, ancient-looking key, made of some kind of off-white material too heavy to be plastic—maybe some kind of bone. About the size of my pinkie, its bow was a beautifully carved Valentine’s Day–style heart. Another shape was set inside, molded from a glistening red stone, and this one resembled a tiny human heart.

A bolt of exhilaration shot through me and my hands began to shake. This is what I’d been looking for. It had to be the key to the door in the garden.

My phone chimed in my hand, and if I hadn’t been gripping it so tightly out of pure excitement, I would have dropped it. It was Marie.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Briseis. I’m sorry to call so late.”

I glanced at the clock on my screen. “You’re good. It’s not even nine. Everything okay?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over.”

I looked down at the key. I really wanted to go straight to the garden, but the time and the sound of her voice were making me reconsider. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want,” she said.

“Right, I, uh—do you know about—”

“The garden?” she cut in.

“So you do know about it.”

“I’ve never been inside their garden, but yeah, I know.”

“Did Circe ever tell you anything? About what was in there?” I asked.

There was a long pause. “Why don’t you come over and we can talk about it?”