Dorothy stopped in front of the sink and switched on the faucet, forcing herself to breathe as she watched the water circle the drain. When the basin was full, she took a handful of water and splashed it onto her face. Handful after handful to her face, her neck.

I’m fine, she told herself. It had just been too many people. She didn’t like being in front of a crowd. She didn’t like everyone staring at her, wondering where she’d gotten the scar. She felt better when her face was hidden, when she could control what people saw when they looked at her.

Not people, a voice at the back of her head whispered. Ash.

She closed her eyes, breathing hard. It was foolish to pretend this wasn’t true. She never should have let Ash see her standing next to Roman, see her scar. Why hadn’t she worn her damn mask?

She went still, fingers curling around the sink. Water dripped from her nose.

She’d thought she was over it. Over him.

She’d chosen this.

Dorothy switched off the faucet without lifting her head. She heard a stir behind her, almost an exhale, and she jerked around, water dripping from her face. Her pulse surged. But there was no one there.

She shook her head, grabbing a towel from the rack beside the sink. She dried her face roughly and tossed the towel into the sink. Then she made her way to the door, throwing it open—

She stopped breathing.

Ash stood in the hallway outside of the bathroom. He had a hand raised, as though he’d been about to knock, but now he froze, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Oh,” Dorothy said, on an exhale. She would’ve said more, but her lips felt like they might crack if she moved them.

Ash was here.

The air shivered. Her legs wobbled.

His eyes were blazing, and, when he spoke, his voice was low and aching.

“It’s you,” he said. “I found you.”

12

Ash

Dorothy’s expression was raw beneath the curtain of her white hair. Ash felt a crease knit his brows. He didn’t know what had happened to make her face look like that, but he could imagine. Instinct rose inside of him, to touch her cheek, to comfort her. His hand twitched—

Then something in her face shuttered. It was as though a door had slammed shut, hiding her emotions from view. She straightened, her shoulders going stiff.

“Ash,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Ash flinched, her voice hitting him like a slap. It was so familiar, so instantly, achingly familiar.

“What am I doing here?” he repeated. He felt numb. “I saw Quinn—I saw your broadcast, and I came to see how the Black Cirkus was able to travel back in time.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but Ash didn’t know how to say the rest of it. I came to find Quinn. I came to meet the woman who would kill me. I didn’t know it would be you.