Page 71 of Once a Villain
“AmIall right?” Nick looked his brother over. “You’re so thin.”
“Thin?” Finn snorted and shook his head, as if Nick wasn’t making any sense.
The stairs grew more rickety as they ascended, and nearly every tread had gaping, rotten holes that reminded Joan uncomfortablyof the tears they’d seen in the timeline.
“Don’t worry,” Finn said to her cheerfully. “Just put your feet where I put mine.”
Joan was relieved when he finally pushed open a door on the third-floor landing. “Mary!” he called.
“Mary?” Nick breathed.
Joan followed Finn into a tiny room. Inside, a girl with long black hair was stoking the hearth. She straightened as they entered.
If Joan hadn’t already heard her name, she’d never have recognized her. Nick’s sister had been fresh-faced and healthy when Joan had met her. This version of her was thinner than Finn. Her gray apron dress hung off her, scarecrow-like. Joan had the feeling she was all bones underneath.
Her pendant said 9 3 18 on both rows.
Joan could feel her own breath coming faster. She turned to Nick. She knew this was agony for him—seeing his family so unwell. Seeing those pendants and knowing that so much life had been stripped from them. Knowing thathe’dput them in this circumstance. Joan felt sick with guilt. He’d done it forher. If Joan had died, none of this would be happening.
She put a hand on his side, needing to touch him, and he drew a deep breath, leaning into her for a moment.
“What are you doing here?” Mary said softly. “You said that Lord Oliver was sending you somewhere safe. That you wouldn’t be back....”
“I...” Nick shook his head. Then he took a stride and pulled his sister into a hug. He was shaking—so much that Joan knewhe’d thought Mary was dead in this timeline. They’d found Mary’s ring among Nick’s things.
Except...
With a jolt, Joan saw that Mary wasstillwearing her signet ring.
The hairs rose on the back of Joan’s neck. It wasn’t just similar. It was thesamering, with the same faint white scratch at the corner. How was that possible? Had it time-traveled? Could you clone an item like that? She instinctively thought not.
A shiver of disquiet rippled through the room, as if the timeline itself had registered something strange. None of the humans seemed to notice the disturbance, and Joan realized she’d felt it with her monster sense.
Mary pulled back from the hug. “You shouldn’t be here!” she whispered to Nick. “It’s not safe for you!”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said. “I’m sorry to come to the house like this.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mary said. “What do you need? Money? Food?”
Nick’s eyes gleamed wetly, and he looked away for a second. He’d missed his family so much, Joan knew. And at the same time, this wasn’this family. This wasn’t his Mary, and he wasn’t her Nick. He’d overwritten her Nick. He’d put the family in these terrible circumstances.
“I’m sorry,” Nick said again hoarsely, and Joan heard the guilt of it all, heavy in his voice. She took a step toward him.
Mary saw her and shook herself. “I’msorry,” she said to Joan. She had Nick’s earnest way of speaking. “I’ve been so rude. I’m Mary.”
“Joan,” Joan said. “I’m...” She looked at Nick. Whatwasshe to him? A familiar ache spread through her chest. She didn’t know. Even after they’d almost kissed last night in the garden.
To her surprise, Nick reached for her hand and drew her close.
Mary’s face softened. “He’s never brought a girl home before. You must be special.”
“She is,” Nick said, so earnestly that Joan could feel her cheeks pinking.
She held his hand tight, wanting to be a comfort to him. And taking comfort too.Not quite how I imagined taking you home to meet the family, Nick had said, and Joan swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. They were going to fix this, she thought again. For Mary, for Finn. For all of them.
“Are you hungry?” Mary said to them.
“No,” Joan said. The last thing she’d have wanted was to take food away from Mary and Finn. She glanced around the room properly for the first time. It was tiny—with no kitchen or bathroom. Joan counted twelve bedrolls filling the floor space. A narrow window gaped open, huffing frosty air—for ventilation, she guessed. In spite of the fireplace, it was colder inside than out. “I— We broughtyousome money.”
