“Oh my God, Papa. Why have we stayed here?”
“Because your mother is here, the Quatrefoil, my work, our friends. I might have an easier life someplace else, but easier doesn’t mean better.”
His choice to stay confined to a wheelchair when he could regain the use of his legs baffles me.
“I can see the wheels spinning in your brain, Cadence. Put the brakes on them, because we’re not leaving.”
“But, Papa—”
“Non,” he says firmly, sharply.
I pinch my lips shut. I won’t fight now, in front of the others, but I might later.
Papa returns his attention to Adrien. “Where was I?”
“Nolwenn made Matthias leave,” Adrien supplies.
“That’s right. I think he went to Sweden. There, he met someone, had Romain with that person, then returned after she . . .lefthim.”
Oh, God. Does he think Matthias murdered Romain’s mother?
“I hope that’s what happened.” He glances at Gaëlle.
Her arms are crossed, and she’s staring at nothing.
“His mind seemed whole again, and Romain didn’t seem scarred by an unpredictable father. He was actually a happy kid. Anyway, Gaëlle babysat him while Matthias took a teaching job at the university. There were no more strange incidents. At least none that we observed, and we were observing him. And then he and Gaëlle fell into a relationship, and the rest”—he lets out a whistling exhale—“well, you’re now aware of the rest.”
“Death by rolling pin,” Slate mutters, though I think I’m the only one to hear.
“He wasn’t fine. I should’ve seen it coming. He was always so obsessed with setting things on fire. He used the blowtorch on insects. Fire fascinated Romain, which made Matthias’s passion for burning things thrive. That scared me.” Gaëlle’s cheeks glitter with new tears. “I should’ve known . . . I should’ve known his mind wasn’t whole.”
The frigid wind whistles through the tall, swaying evergreens, then brushes over the crusty snow and licks up the length of our bodies.
“We should all get home now. The Quatrefoil only knows when the next piece will manifest.” Papa wears a tight smile, probably trying to defuse the tension.
“I’ll walk back with you, Gaëlle,” Adrien offers.
She nods. We arrived together on Papa’s snowmobile. Cars aren’t allowed in the heart of town, but the snowmobile is; Papa’s snowmobile, anyway. As soon as it roared down the street, Matthias poofed out of existence.
Papa revs up the motor. “Are you ready to leave,ma chérie?”
I bite my lip, glancing over at Slate.
As though sensing the direction of my thoughts, Adrien says, “Slate can walk back with Gaëlle and me.”
“Thanks, Prof, but I’m planning on hanging out here a while longer.”
I stare between Papa and Slate a couple seconds before backing away from the snowmobile. “I’ll show him around his house and then walk home with him.”
Papa’s mouth flattens. “No. It’s dark out and—”
“I’m seventeen, Papa. And it’sBrume. Relatively safe.”
“I don’t want you walking around Brume in the dark while the Quatrefoil isn’t whole.”
“He’s right,” Adrien says. “Brume’s become dangerous with the Quatrefoil unearthed.”
“You should listen to them, Cadence.” Slate’s voice rings through the darkness. “Besides, I’m only going to stay here a half-hour tops.”
