The night passed slowly, the work easy but the lies hard, as she waited for the information the matron promised. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at the nobles who didn’t recognize her face, hating their casualness, their emptiness.
Eventually, she caught Samuel on the way to the washroom, signaling him to follow her into the storeroom. She tried to ignore the memories that popped into her head of a different man on a different night.
“What have you heard?” Shan said.
“Nothing much,” Samuel replied, the easy affability he pretended at all night vanishing. He looked so drained. “As far as rumors, they haven’t heard anything that wasn’t in the papers. I don’t think anyone’s even noticed the new dealer. And otherwise—”
“Perfectly normal,” Shan spat, and Samuel nodded. Useless, it was all useless. But there was still the matron. Still a bit of hope. She reached out, pressing her hand against his face, and he leaned into the touch. “Thank you for trying, Samuel.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to.”
They both knew it was a lie, but Shan didn’t press it. She just allowed herself to lean into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, soft and comforting. There was nothing forward about it, nothing demanding—just comfort, freely given.
Shan felt as if she was breaking apart.
She stepped back, though she wanted nothing more than for him to keep holding her. “You can go, but there are still some things I need to do.”
“Okay,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “We’ll talk soon?”
“I’ll send you a note about what I find,” she promised, and Samuel clenched her hands to his one last time.
“Be careful, Shan.”
“You, too,” she whispered, and let him slip out first. When she was alone, with only the beat of her heart to keep her company, she whispered, “I really have to stop doing this.”
She exited the storeroom only to the find the matron standing there, arms crossed over her chest. “Playing both sides, Sparrow?”
Shan quickly rearranged her expression, hiding away the pain and indecision she felt and replacing it with confidence and a lazy kind of ego. “Both sides have good information.”
The matron stared at her for a long moment, but her anger broke. “If it helps you find out who did this to our girl, then how can I judge you?” She turned, heading towards her office, and Shan hurried to follow her.
“You don’t think she is alive then?” Shan asked, feigning ignorance though she knew the truth. These people saw her as a beacon of hope, and she needed them to keep seeing her that way. If she came to them with the truth, awful as it was, she didn’t know what they would do.
And she couldn’t risk that, not now.
The matron shook her head. “It’s been five days, Sparrow. No one has seen Sarah. Her home is empty. Her family mystified. We can only assume the worst.”
“Tell me everything,” Shan said. “Her address, her friends. Who last saw her. Anything that could help.”
The matron opened the door to her office. “I have a copy of her file prepared for you to take. It’s everything I know. As for who last saw her?” She wrung her hands. “I believe that was me.”
Shan leaned forward. “And? Anything unusual?”
“Just that she left after her shift with a dark-haired man.” The matron held up a hand. “No, I did not see his face, nor do I know his name.”
Shan’s breath caught in her throat. “I see.”
“That’s all I know,” she said, “that and what’s in the file.” The matron looked at her, her blue eyes sharp. “You’ve got ties to both sides, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is keeping my people safe. Do you understand me?”
“I do,” Shan said, forcing the words past dry lips.
“Then go out and find this bastard, Sparrow,” the matron hissed. “And make him pay.”
Shan took the file and held it to her chest. “Thank you for your assistance.” She slipped away before the matron could say any more, before she broke down completely.
It was just a coincidence. It meant nothing. There were many dark-haired men in Aeravin. And she would find this bastard and destroy him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven