"She made us sit there while she hosed us off in the back garden before she'd even let us all inside," I add.
"Wait, why were you covered in flour?"
Atticus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose even though I can still see his shoulders trembling from his own laughter at the memory.
"Ithoughtthe flour delivery truck would be the perfect hiding place for the smaller Monets we'd gotten our hands on. Inside the massive sacks of flour, they'd be protected in transport, and with Elijah—fluent in French—at the wheel, he could sweet-talk us out of the city. Turns out those sacks don't hold up well in a high-speed chase."
Aurora almost spits out her wine, and clamps a hand over her mouth to hold it in. Once she's finally managed to swallow it, hereyes light up. "Oh my god, I remember hearing about that! They found the truck, right?"
I nod. "Yep, and they dubbed us theles bandits de la farine blanche."
"White flour bandits," Eli translates for Aurora.
"Did you see what they're calling us, now?" Atticus asks, flicking over the screen of his phone to find something before sliding it down the table for the rest of us to see.
On the screen is a fuzzy image of the three of us captured by a security camera outside of the Matisse in Nice. Fuck yeah. It's exactly how I pictured it.
Atty was in control of the cameras linked to the museum's security, but for any others—like this city-operated street cam outside—the masks were necessary.
And now I'm so fucking stoked I forced the guys to stop and smile for that camera real quick before we made our getaway. This turned out even fucking better than I hoped.
I'm going to frame this shit.
I read the headline attached, trying to see what people are saying. There are a bunch of links to TikTok and the word 'viral' pops up at least three times in the first paragraph.
"What's MaskTok?" I ask, and Aurora grabs the phone for a better look.
"No, you didn't!"
She zooms in on the photo, and I lean into her side as she takes in the Halloween masks and me making a peace sign for the camera.
"TheMenage a MaskTok?!"
With the masks on, and with the angle, it should be hard to tell which one of us is which, but Aurora still points us out with ease.
"Ghostface is definitely you."
"Guilty," I admit.
"And this one with the light-up smile and crossed-out eyes—that's Elijah for sure."
He gives a little bow.
"Which means this creepy-looking skull mask is Atticus."
"I'll have you know that is military-grade tactical gear and is completely bulletproof."
"Doesn't make it any less creepy."
Aurora lifts her brows at him in challenge, and his nostrils flare.
There's only a little venom in her tone when she adds, "Don't worry, it suits you."
Céline's laughter fades a bit as she glances between Aurora and Atticus. "Do I sense some tension here?"
"Maybe a little." Aurora's voice is muffled as she mumbles into her wineglass. Unlike me, Eli, and Céline, she's still on her first one.
"What happened, then?" Céline presses, then turns to give a sharp look in Atticus's direction. "You didn't mention anything during your haircut?"
