Yes, but this feels intimate. Don’t you think it does? I don’t mean that I think we’re being too intimate. I guess I do. Roar, sometimes it’s really hard to get used to this.

Roar flashed a grin. “Aria, this isn’t intimate. If I were being intimate with you, trust me, you’d know.”

She rolled her eyes. Next time you say something like that, you should toss a red rose and then leave with a swish of your cape.

He gazed off like he was imagining it. “I could do that.”

They fell into silence, and she realized how comforting it felt being connected to him this way.

“Good,” Roar said. “That’s the idea.”

His smile was encouraging. The last time I saw my mother, it was terrible, she admitted after a while. We were fighting. I said all the wrong things to her, and I’ve been regretting it since then. I think I always will. Anyway, I didn’t want to do that with Perry. I thought it would be easier to just leave.

“And I’m guessing you were wrong?”

She nodded. Leaving is never easy.

Roar watched her for a long moment, the hint of a smile in his eyes. “That’s not anxious nonsense, Aria. It’s what’s happening. It’s truth.” He squeezed her hand and let go. “Please don’t ever spare me that.”

When Roar fell asleep, she dug her Smarteye out of her satchel. It was time to check in with Hess again. For days, she’d been picturing Talon with his legs swinging over the pier. Now her stomach tightened as she remembered Hess’s threat. She chose the Hess icon on her Smartscreen and fractioned. When she saw where she was, every muscle in her body went rigid.

The Paris Opera House.

From her spot at center stage, she stood in stunned silence, absorbing the familiar opulence of the hall. Tiers of gilded balconies wrapped around a sea of red velvet seats. Her eyes traveled higher, to the colorful fresco nestled in the domed ceiling, lit by the brilliant grand chandelier. She’d been coming here since she was just a young girl. This Realm—more than anywhere—felt like home.

Her focus moved beyond the orchestra pit to the seat directly in front of her.

Empty.

Aria closed her eyes. This had been her place with Lumina. She could imagine her mother there, in her simple black dress, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, a gentle smile on her lips. Aria had never known a more reassuring smile. A smile that said, Everything will be all right and I believe in you. She felt that now. A stillness. A certainty. Everything would work out. She clung to the feeling, locking it in her heart. Then slowly she opened her eyes, and the feeling seeped away, leaving questions that burned in the back of her throat.