How does Maura always manage to leave me feeling the villain?
Sachi is at my side, putting an arm around me. “Maura erased Finn’s memory?”
I nod. “The night of the Harwood breakout. He doesn’t remember me as anything more than a customer in the shop. A neighbor.”
Sachi shepherds me to the chair, and I sit. She kneels next to me, her silky black hair brushing my elbow. “You’ve got to tell him the truth.”
“I can’t. You heard her. If she sees us together, she’ll attack him again. Or Inez would, in a trice.” Sachi’s dark eyes are full of sympathy. I can hardly bear it. “Who knows what another attack would do to him. He’s already so muddled. He approached me earlier because he suspects I’ve got something to do with it, because I’m a terrible liar, and I’m supposed to meet him tonight—I had to agree to it, to get him to leave me alone—and I don’t know what to tell him!”
Sachi puts her hand over mine. “Just tell him the truth. He deserves to know.”
“What should I say?” I rub my tired eyes with both fists. “That we were in love, mad as that might seem, and my sister erased his memory? You think that will make him fall right back in love with me?”
I bury my face in my hands. When I resurface, all three girls are watching me. “I’m sorry, Prue, for subjecting you to all this. Do you have sisters?”
“A brother.” Prue pushes her spectacles up her nose with her forefinger. The gesture reminds me of Finn.
“Alistair Merriweather’s your brother?” I ask.
Prue nods, toying with her long black plait, and I can see the resemblance, especially in the eyes. She’s as pretty as her brother is handsome; it’s just hidden behind the spectacles and the clothes that don’t quite flatter or fit.
I try to shake off my sadness. “If you’d like to see him, I’ll take you to meet him.”
Prue frowns, and her glasses slip down her nose again. “You know where he is? He’s been in hiding for years.”
I stand. “I know where he’ll be on Thursday night. I’ve joined the Resistance movement, and there’ll be a meeting.”
Rory lets out her loud bark of a laugh. I’ve missed that sound. “What else have you done in the last two weeks, Cate? It seems you’ve been quite busy.”
• • •
Chatting with Sachi, Rory, and Prue restores my spirits. At first I fret about being so candid in front of Prue—an utter stranger—but it’s obvious that the three of them have struck up a friendship. I fill them in on the goings-on at the convent, the tension between Inez’s faction and ours. Without Tess in the room, I tell them that she’s the oracle and beg them not to treat her any differently.
“But she’s not—like Brenna?” Rory twirls a finger around her ear, unwilling to speak ill of the dead.
“No. Tess is utterly sane. But she worries about going mad, so no jokes, if you please.” I give Rory a stern look.
“Brenna borrowed this dress, didn’t she?” Rory’s brown eyes fill with tears. “It smells like her. She always loved violets.”
I nod. “She did. Tess went out and got her some scented water. They became quite close; Tess was the one who took her meals up and read to her. I think she’s more upset about Brenna than she’s letting on. I ought to go check on her and make sure Maura hasn’t taken her head off.”
“We’ll stay here and keep a lookout for Elena,” Sachi promises, poking at the fire.
“Thank you.” I give her a grateful smile.
“Cate, you saved our lives! We ought to be thanking you,” Rory says.
“Think about what I said,” Sachi urges as she lights the gas lamps. “You should tell Finn the truth. You deserve to be happy.”
I nod, though I don’t know what deserving has to do with it. After all, Brenna hardly deserved her fate.
Still, I ponder it as I walk upstairs to Tess’s room. Why am I so reluctant to tell Finn? Is it because of the danger he’d be in from Maura and Inez? Or is it because I’m afraid that, now that he doesn’t love me anymore, he’ll decide I’m not worth the trouble?
Worse—what if he feels obliged to try and love me again? Rilla suggested I could make him. But I didn’t make him love me the first time. I never employed any of the charming, coy little tricks that girls are meant to use to catch a husband. I was just myself.
What if that isn’t enough, a second time around?
I knock at Tess and Vi’s door, and Tess calls for me to come in. She’s lying on her bed, curled on her side. Cyclops peeks out from beneath the comforter, as though she’s just shoved him aside, embarrassed to be caught with such a childish comfort. She shouldn’t be. I’d love to have a thing that brought me comfort when I was sad or afraid.
“How did it go with Maura?” I ask.
She pats the space next to her. “Not well. She feels like you’ve chosen Finn over her.”
“Would it be so terrible if I did?” I sit, pulling off my boots so I can tuck my feet under me. “It didn’t have to be this way. She’s the one making me choose.”
“You know Maura. She’s always trying to test people, prove that they love her best.” Tess fiddles with the black lace at her cuffs. “I’m afraid we’ve both failed on that score.”
“No.” I lean forward, angry all over again. “It’s not our fault she’s got this—this chasm inside her that she’s always trying to fill.”
“We’re not to blame, but we’re not helping. She’s so hurt, Cate. She feels like everyone chooses you—Mother, Elena, Cora, me. Inez is the only one who keeps choosing Maura.” Tess takes a deep breath, holds it, and then slowly lets it out. “I know you won’t like this, but I think you ought to go to her. Tell her you didn’t mean it, that you aren’t giving up on her.”
I shake my head. “I do mean it. I have given up on her.”
Tess massages her temple and continues on as though I haven’t spoken, haven’t already refused. “I know she acts like she doesn’t want you looking out for her, but she needs you.”
I give an unladylike snort. “I doubt that very much. I appreciate you trying to make peace, I do, but you’ve got to stop worrying about us. Your head’s bothering you, isn’t it? You ought to lie down for a while. I’ll come tell you when Elena’s back. Unless . . .” I look at Tess’s pinched face. “You had a vision this afternoon, didn’t you? Right as we came into that alley. Did you see something about Elena?”
“No—I mean, yes, I did have a vision, but it’s nothing to do with Elena.”
Her eyes have tired shadows under them, and her shoulders are slumped, her jaw clenched. Certainly enough has happened today to account for all that, but Tess’s moods have been unpredictable lately. Is it just being twelve, and being an oracle on top of it? Or—I think back to Brenna’s warning—has Tess seen something that’s weighing on her?
“Did you know that Brenna was going to die?” I whisper. “Like with Zara?”
“No!” Tess shakes her head. “I never imagined—it’s only that I think she knew. She said something this morning when I brought her breakfast. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now . . . I think she was saying good-bye.”