“Have you read them?”
“Skimmed. Most are social correspondence—dinner invitations, condolences, that sort of thing. But there are three letters that reference ‘the work’ in ways that seem deliberate. Coded, almost.” She opened the folder. “I marked them.”
They read together, Delphine pointing out phrasing that struck her as unusual, Bastien recognizing techniques Charlotte had used to discuss her research without being explicit. One letter mentioned “preparations for extended observation.” Another referenced “acquiring the necessary instruments for clarity.”
“She was systematic,” Delphine said. “Whatever she was doing with these mirrors, she approached it like an experiment. Controlled conditions, documented results. She was like a true scientist in a way.”
“That matches everything else we’re finding.”
“So where’s her documentation?” Delphine looked up from the letter. “If she was this methodical, she kept records. Detailed ones. But I’ve yet to find them in the Archive.”
“The Church bought the mirror and sealed it. They might have taken her papers too.”
“Three years after her death?” Delphine frowned. “That’s odd timing. Unless . . .” She pulled the first ledger back, checking the dates. “Unless they didn’t know about the mirror’s properties until later. Maybe someone found her documentation and brought it to the Bishop’s attention.”
Bastien watched her build the theory, each logical step following the previous one. She had good instincts—better than most researchers with twice her experience. “That would explain the delayed sealing.”
“It would also mean her papers might still exist somewhere in Church archives.” Delphine’s expression shifted from theoretical to determined. “I have contacts at the Archdiocese. I could ask about historical acquisitions from that period.”
“Carefully.”
“I’m always careful.” She met his eyes and paused. “You think there’s danger here. Real danger, not just academic interest.”
He could lie. Should lie, probably. But Delphine was already involved, already asking the right questions. “The mirror that showed up at auction last week wasn’t a coincidence. Someone wanted it found. Someone who understands what it can do.”
“What exactly can it do?” she asked. No emotion, no expectation, just a simple question.
Bastien studied her lips as he contemplated what to tell her. Maman’s voice rang in his head. He did need to be forthcoming. The pause he took was longer than comfortable.
“You can explain it later. When you feed me.” She smiled.
Resigned and relived, Bastien replied, “I think that’s fair.”
“So, you’re trying to stop the person who wants this glass.”
“I’m trying to understand what they’re after first.”
She nodded slowly, processing. Then she replied, “I’m helping.”
“Delphine—”
“You came to me for Archive access. You’re getting Archive access. Plus institutional knowledge, pattern recognition, and contacts you don’t have.” She smiled, but her eyes held steel. “And before you start with the ‘it’s too dangerous’ speech, remember I watched you walk into a burning building last month and come back out with not a burn to be found. I know what your work involves.”
Bastien wanted to argue. Every protective instinct demanded he find a way to keep her out of this. But she was right—she’dseen enough already to know the risks. More than that, she’d chosen to help anyway, more than once.
“Coffee first,” he said. “Before we start poking through Church archives.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Asking. Definitely asking.”
Her smile warmed. “Then yes. And you’re buying, since you canceled dinner.”
“I thought beignets covered that.”
“Beignets are separate. That’s the ‘you made me work on my day off’ fee.”
“Extortion.”
