Page 54 of We Are the Match
This was my mother’s symbol.
Chapter 17
Paris
Helen stares at her mother’s symbol with awe. “Do you know what this is?”
Oh, better than Helen does. I grew up with the symbol emblazoned on the wall at the head of the table in our home. We were never allowed to forget who owned us.
“Lena’s,” I answer Helen, throat dry.
How could any of us have grown up anything but loyal to Troy, when it was drilled into us from our first moment there? Maybe that was why Zarek melted our doors shut with his bombs.
The memory of Lena in myhome, where my sisters died is not enough, this time, to quench the guilt that stirs when Helen looks at me, bereft.
“Mama’s,” she confirms.
“Was Hana in love with Lena?” I ask, looking away from Helen’s grief and back to the locket, turning it over in my hand. “Did your mother have an affair?”
To my shock—and horror—tears spark in Helen’s eyes.
“If they did, I never knew of it,” she says. “I know they were friends, long ago. But Hana has always been so distant with me. I always thought... I thought she could hardly bear to look at me, but maybe that was because I reminded her of who she lost.”
Lena is only lost because she chose to be lost, something Helen will learn eventually. Still, the tears on her face make my chest squeeze painfully.
I reach out, brush them roughly away with the pad of my thumb. “There now,” I say roughly, because if I do not, and the words come out soft—I do not know what I will do. “Come on, Princess. We’ll be all right.”
She nods, catching her breath. “I’ll keep this,” she says.
Not a question. A statement of fact, whether I like it or not.
“Oh, were you trying out a bit of bossiness?” I ask her, grinning at her as if she could not have me killed with a flick of her hand.
To my endless delight, she blushes again as she places the locket gently in the pocket of her dress.
“We should let Tommy know we’re done,” I tell her. “And then—you’ll take me to Frona’s on Saturday night.”
Frona’sis not a house, not like Hana’s. Frona once lived on Troy but now lives full-time on her floating pleasure city, a massive gathering of yachts with a small, repurposed cruise ship at the center and bridges connecting all of them; they are usually docked far enough from the islands to be in international waters, rendering any activities that take place there harder for governments to regulate.
“Does Frona know this?” Helen cocks her head. “I can get us an invite, of course. But people will talk about the two of us visitingthere. Maybe even to Milos. And nothing says an affair like visiting Frona’s pleasure city.”
Frona trades in sex and secrets; world leaders and celebrities vacation on her floating city, experiencing the beauty and discretion that Frona provides. And in return, Frona takes a secret from each of them.
“Call her.” I wave a hand at Helen, who bristles.
“Do you give me orders now?” she asks.
“Yes, Princess, that has always been the arrangement.”
“And do we have a lead to track down?” she asks. “Do we have areasonfor this?”
I lean across the space between us, set one hand on her thigh. Squeeze tightly.
“The reason,” I tell her. “Is that I told you we were.”
I do have a lead, of course. A bomb-maker’s warehouse on an island past Frona’s floating city.
Red creeps up the fair skin of her neck until the blush has engulfed her.
