As they wandered the empty museum, Aida thought about Mo’s words. She would give nearly anything to have her pre-pandemic life back, or at least an end to the lockdown. But if Mo gave the world some reprieve from the pandemic, what did it mean for Aida in relation to the god? He was caustic and unpredictable. A friendship with him was bound to be volatile at the best of times.
By June, many of the restrictions began to ease, and museums and public places reopened with strict mask rules, temperature checks, and visitor limitations. Aida continued her work at Palazzo Barberini, interviewing masked museum visitors. But most importantly of all, Luciano returned to the Promenade to finish his observations and upload them to Pandora.
The next day, Aida messaged Yumi via Signal.Did it work? Any sign of her?
Still working on it, Yumi replied.MODA’s encryption is dense, but I’m making progress. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.
Luciano’s message arrived shortly after.Any word from Yumi?
Not yet, Aida texted back.She’s still cracking through MODA’s encryption. Fingers crossed.
Three days later, a new text from Yumi popped up in their group chat.I found her!
Grazie a Dio,cazzo!Luciano’s vulgar response of relief madeAida smile.Dolores walked in on me just as I finished my upload, and I pocketed the USB. I was so worried she might have noticed.
Aida was beyond relieved. Finally, a breakthrough.Let’s hope they don’t figure it out before we can get to her. Is she in London?
Yes, Yumi replied.Once Luciano’s data cracked through MODA’s layers of encryption, I was able to pinpoint her location. She’s living in Hackney, near the big church by the morgue. She’s going by the name of Helen Harrow. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but I’ve been tracking her digital footprint since the upload—IP pings, security footage, even local grocery transactions. It’s allpretty routine. She works at a small grocery store, walks to a nearby park, and keeps to herself. No sign of anything strange.
Now we only need to get to London, Aida said.
Dolores told me they may have us return to quarterly meetings soon, so let’s wait for that. Better to go when we’re expected to than to make an extra trip that might get noticed.
Luciano was right. Just a couple of days later, Trista—whom Aida had barely seen for the last few months as she had shown little desire to mingle with the rest of the locked-down household—appeared at the door to her office.
“You’re to return to London in the morning.”
Aida tried to act surprised. “I didn’t realize the lockdown had eased up so much?”
“Things are more lax in London,” Trista said. “A car will be ready for you at eight.”
“Very well. Thanks for letting me know.” While she feigned boredom with the idea, she was a mixture of emotions inside—excited to see Luciano and terrified that MODA might know about them finding Pandora.
Her aide strode into the room and deposited an envelope on her desk. “Mo sent this for you.” She turned on a heel and left.
Aida opened the envelope. Inside was a single puzzle piece of blue sky. They had been wondering about the missing piece, and Dante had torn the room apart trying to find it. Eventually, they decided the puzzle was faulty. But of course, Mo had taken it. She turned the piece over. On its back was a smiley face drawn in pen. She snapped a photo and sent it to Yumi.
Looks like you have a new bestie now, she texted, alongside a bunch of laughing emoji.
Aida replied with a smiley face rolling its eyes.
When she checked into the hotel in London, there was a note that after she had deposited her bags, she should make her way to the suite for her interview. Aida hoped she wouldn’t be alone with Mo this time.
Fifteen minutes later, she stood before the elevator, watching the numbers move ever downward. With every number, calm wrapped itself like a cloak around Aida. A god was in the elevator. She sent a silent prayer to Sophie for her aegis. Beneath the heavy relaxation, she knew she was terrified.
The doors opened. Inside were Luciano and Disa. His eyes grew big at the sight of her. She quickly diverted her attention to the goddess, who was wearing an extreme, formfitting bodysuit made entirely of mismatched men’s ties. Aida had watched all the 2020 spring haute couture shows online during the pandemic and recognized the look. Perhaps her reaction could be forgiven. She ignored Luciano as he exited the elevator. “Disa, your suit, is that...”
“Gaultier,” Disa said. “His final show before he retired.”
“I wish I were brave enough to wear something like that.”
“Few are.” As usual, her tone was brusque, as though she abhorred conversation. She didn’t indicate that she had noticed Aida’s moment of recognition.
Aida followed Disa through the massive suite until they reached the familiar conference room with the round table. Shewas relieved to see that Mo was, in fact, accompanied by Fran. She took the chair opposite them, and Disa sat to her left. None of them were masked.
“It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?” A sly smile crossed Mo’s face. “Go ahead, you can take that off,” he said, indicating her mask.
“I suppose it has been a minute,” she said, glad for the calm that enveloped her. She removed the mask, only because she knew that if the gods intended to hurt her, it probably wasn’t going to be with a virus. She wondered what had happened in Luciano’s meeting. She reassured herself with the thought that they had let him leave after his appointment.
