She pauses by the light switch. Then she drifts toward the near side of the bed, and settles onto her back, her wet hair fanning onto me, smelling like her special oaty shampoo. I hide my grin by typing out my message to Teddy and spotting fresh texts: one from Saxim, asking if she can sleep over at Stökéwood tomorrow, and Linos:

I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay incognito. You’re too special. Let’s meet at Stökéwood tomorrow night?

Even though I’m too tired to function, that Cheshire-cat smile I’ve been fighting spreads across my face.

“Natasha?” Noni asks, rolling over to face me. “Did you work through whatever you needed to work through tonight?”

“Nope,” I reply, tapping out yeses to Linos and Saxim. “I’m still furious.” Mama left us the script, but no letter to clarify who she was. Even Dad left us a letter. Not that he, you know, called or anything. I exhale, locking my phone and facing her. “But she’s our Lady, and we love her.”

Noni takes my hand and pets it like a small animal. Hand in hand, we fall asleep.

A few hours later, I wake to Noni cursing her weird semi-Victorian noncurses (Blazes! Drat!) and rummaging through my luggage.

“Uh … hi?” I rub my eyes, clearing the leftover mascara gunk that turns my skin blue.

“I forgot my notebook, Tai,” she snaps. “At the bar.”

I yawn. “M’kay. We’ll call them. It’s all good,” I say, stretching in bed. The dark feels luxurious. More time to sleep.

She towers over me and crosses her arms. “Can you take this a little more seriously?”

I groan. “I mean, it’s just a notebook?”

“It’s my livelihood,” she says, before wrenching open a drawer that is most definitely empty.

I blearily raise a brow. “Okay, but, like, what does that even mean?”

“Nothing,” she says, slamming the very empty drawer shut. “I’m just going to call them again. I need to find it. It has all of Mama’s places in it.” She storms out of the room.

And I’m the dramatic one.

I guess she’s not wrong, though. It has all of Mama’s places in it. That means all the Noxim places, too, and any clues as to who this stalker might actually be, outside of White Fox and our faded memories.

The island might be small, but there are hiding places everywhere: dense networks of tunnels, jewel-box coastal towns brimming with ancient strangeness, and superwealthy, old-school enclaves that are basically impossible to penetrate, like the castle-turned-mansion in Mitella inhabited by Linos’s demon mother. If we’re going to sniff out Mama in Noxim, we’re going to need every single juicy secret we can cull.