Page 25 of The Scarlet Veil

“I—” Cheeks burning once more, I hide the incriminating hand within my cloak. “I haven’t decided anything yet.” When she says nothing, merely purses her lips, I continue hastily, “Really, I haven’t, and—and even if I have—not every choice is a forever one.”

Unfortunately, the words fail to evoke Father Achille’s steadyassurance, and my shoulders slump in resignation. Inexhaustion.

What a mess.

“Hmm.” Taking pity on me, Lou bumps my hip and drags me in the opposite direction. “You aren’t wrong, but you also don’t need to make that choice tonight. Indeed, I mustinsistyou let our dear captain stew in his stupidity for at least a few hours. Coco and Beau are coming over for a nightcap after averylong day, and Reid will be thrilled to see you—Melisandre, too, if you apologize for canceling last month. She even caught you a lovely birthday present for the festivities tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll drag it out just as we’re cutting the cake.” Hesitating, she glances back at the town house with its pretty pale stone and ivy vines. “Unless you’d rather stay here?”

“No,” I say too quickly.

“Excellent.” Beaming, she stuffs a lock of my windswept hair back beneath my hood. “Then I suggest cheese under the table as an olive branch, but slip it when Reid isn’t looking. He doesn’t like Melisandre eating table scraps—”

My feet slow of their own accord, and reluctantly, I draw to a halt. I don’t know why. I miss Lou’s cat too—I missallof them—yet I cannot bring myself to take another step. “You go ahead,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “I’ll catch up.” When she frowns, I nod in reassurance and motion for her to continue. “Don’t worry. I owe Melisandre an apology, so trust me—I’ll meet you there. I can’t have her put out with me.”

The sun has fully set now, and her eyes flick around the dark street before returning to my person. “You do know it’s dangerous to wander alone at night with a killer on the loose?”

“Youdid,” I point out.

She hesitates again, clearly deliberating.

“Lou.” I squeeze her wrist imploringly. “Whoever killed Babette has little interest in me. They could’ve snatched me in the cemetery after I found her, but they didn’t. I promise I’ll be right behind you. I just need a few moments to... collect myself. Please.”

Lou bobs her head with a quick exhale. “Right. Of course you do. And youalsohave your Balisarda, correct?” When I shake my head, she lifts my left arm with a beleaguered sigh, pinching the hard embroidery on the cloak’s hem. “How fortunate that Coco keeps a thin blade in each sleeve. You probably won’t need them, but if youdo, the clasp on the right sleeve sticks. Go for the left.”

I try not to look startled. OfcourseCoco keeps knives in her clothing. “I will.”

Lou nods again. “I’ll see you in an hour?”

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Remember, Célie”—she presses her thumb on the clasp of my left sleeve, and a razor-sharp blade slides into my palm—“everyone has a groin.”

After slipping the knife back into position, she hugs me briefly before disappearing up the street. I watch her figure retreat with a wistfulness that only she seems to understand—except, of course, that she doesn’t understand at all. Not really. I close my eyes, trying to ignore my leaden feet. Lou has found her place in life—she’s found her family, herhome—and I just...

Haven’t.

It’s a sobering realization.

As if sensing my morbid thoughts, the front door of the town house opens, and my mother steps out, hastily dressed in aglittering black robe. “Célie?” she calls softly, peering out into the shadows of the Brindelle trees. Her bedroom window also overlooks the park; she must’ve seen me creeping below, perhaps heard me bickering with Lou, and come to investigate. “Darling? Are you still here?”

I stand perfectly still across the bridge, willing her to return to bed.

Indeed, I watch her so fixedly I don’t realize that the hair on my neck has lifted, that the wind has fled with Lou. I don’t notice the shadow detaching itself from the street, moving swiftly—tooswiftly—in my periphery. No. As the seventh branch crumbles in Brindelle Park, I see only my mother’s forlorn figure, and I wish—I wish, I wish, Iwish—that I could’ve found my place with her, my family, my home. I wish I could find it withanyone.

I should’ve known better.

My nursemaid always said seven is a magical number, and these trees—perhaps they aren’t quite as dead as I imagine. Perhaps they remember me too. Their glittering powder hangs suspended in the still night air—watching, waiting,knowing—as that shadow descends.

As sharp pain explodes across my temple, and the entire world goes black.

Chapter Ten

A Bird in Her Cage

Wake up.

The words reverberate through my mind in a voice that’s not my own—in a voice familiar, in a voice deep and rich—and my eyes respond immediately, snapping open at the imperious command. Except... I blink, recoiling slightly, when the darkness remains absolute. It feels as if I haven’t opened my eyes at all. Not even a sliver of light pierces the black around me.

My heart begins to pound.

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