“I knew I couldn’t fight him. So, I did the only thing I could think of to protect my family. When Frankie was passed out, I used his phone to call his drug supplier and told him Frankie had been skimming off the profits. Some guys were sent to confront him, and in the resulting fight, Frankie was killed. But so were my brother and I.”

My story over, I glance at Siaka. He’s concentrating on the cobblestones as our group heads up a narrow one-way street.

“You betrayed Frankie to his death,” Charlotte says.

I nod. “A technicality, but it meant I would turn numa if I had revenant genes, or whatever. Violette was trying to build an army and was using Nicolas, her seer, to find newly-created numa. He spotted my aura and picked me up in the morgue.”

Charlotte wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Well, I for one am glad that Kate saw the golden threads in your aura. You’ll make a much better bardia than numa.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

“So, your sister and mother are still alive?” Siaka asks.

“Yes,” I reply. “Gaspard had them moved for their safety. He gives me updates. Mom has a good job and my sister’s in middle school.” My throat squeezes tight the way it always does when I think of them. I won’t ever get to see them again. But I’m glad they’re safe.

Charlotte interrupts my thoughts. “Hey...isn’t that it?”

We’re standing in front of my old apartment building. It’s the first floor flat on the courtyard, right? Arthur asks in my mind.

“Yes,” I reply.

There’s silence for a moment, and then he’s back. There’s a family living there. A man and woman with their baby.

I relay his report to the others, unable to avoid an empty feeling. Life in Paris has gone on. Without me.

Siaka places a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

I shrug.

“You should say goodbye.”

I look at him quizzically, as do Charlotte and Georgia.

“My mother believed that buildings are alive,” he explains. “This was your home, whatever good or bad things happened here. You should thank it and say goodbye. At least, that’s what Mom would have done.” He has a smile on his face like he’s joking, but underneath, I glimpse something totally serious.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Just ad lib it,” he suggests.

“Um, okay.” I turn toward the building, and give a weird little bow, not dissimilar to the one I gave Gaspard. “33, rue André del Sarte, thank you for housing my family. May your façade stay ungraffitied, and...may you never be torn down?” I turn to Siaka, who is now laughing.

Charlotte and Georgia give me a round of applause, and I bow again, this time deeply.