The inside of the row home is compact but elegant, with a small front room, a well-equipped kitchen leading into a garden, and a winding staircase up to the next floor.
“Built in 1639,” Stella says appreciatively. “And still standing. Incredible.” She runs her hand along the slightly crooked mantel. “Sit, relax. The girls can fill you in on all the things that have been happening here if you like or you can rest. I can’t imagine how hard this week has been on you.”
I sink into a low-slung leather couch beneath what looks like an original Vermeer.
“I could use something to eat,” I say, stalling, though I’m starving. “And then we need to talk.” I notice shopping bags all over the room, clearly from expensive boutiques. They’ve been celebrating what they believe is a success.
Colette arrives with a tray of small sandwiches and cookies, instantly tuned in to the tension radiating from me.
“Darling. I can’t believe you’re even still standing.” She hugs me and doesn’t let go as we curl into one another on the couch.
Lucie forces a tiny sandwich my way. “Everything in Amsterdam seems to come in miniature. Little houses, petite sandwiches. Even the drinks come in itty-bitty glasses, though they’re incredibly strong. It’s still early or I’d take you out to my favorite bar.”
“You’ve been here less than a week and already have a favorite bar?” I say, attempting a lightness I don’t feel.
“I always find a new favorite. I collect favorites. You know that about me.”
Stella giggles at Lucie through a yawn, stretching like a cat after a satisfying hunt. “I could use a nap.”
“Wait—” I start, but she interrupts.
“I’ll lie down for just an hour. Maybe two. Go explore the city. Rembrandt’s house is right around the corner, and they have some of his paintings in their original stained black frames, which is absolutely something to see. The Rijks isn’t too far either. The good shopping is on the Nine Streets, and don’t forget that ‘coffee shop’ doesn’t mean coffee here, so stick to the boulangeries unless you want some terrible marijuana.” She’s slowly climbing the steep stairs before I can protest.
“How has she been?” I ask the girls, watching Stella disappear.
“She was spectacular when we first arrived, but I can tell her battery is draining.” Concern shadows Lucie’s face.
“Are you worried about her?”
“Trying not to be.” She shrugs, but her eyes betray her.
I yawn then too because talking about exhaustion makes it contagious. Lucie joins me on the other side and rubs small circles on my back. Being flanked by my people undoes me.
“How are you?” Colette asks. “Really?”
Before I know what’s happening, I burst into tears, fat, ugly droplets rolling over my cheeks as I gasp for air. The dam breaks,and there’s no holding back the flood. She’s asking about my mother, who she believes is dead, but I have to tell her something else first.
“It’s all a mess.” My voice cracks.
“I know. It’s completely fucked.”
“No. Not in the way you think. Stella’s been lying to us.” Colette’s hand freezes on my back, her body tensing beside me. Lucie sits up straighter.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Maybe not lying, but keeping things from us.”
I draw in a ragged breath before I continue. “It’s Caroline. She knows everything. She ambushed me when I was on my way back to the apartment. She tricked me. My mother…It was all a lie. Caroline wanted to get me alone. She kidnapped me.” The words sound absurd as I say them, despite their truth. “She knows what we’re doing. Or maybe not all of it. The one thing I don’t think she knows is about the painting—the Van Gogh and you selling it, Colette, but she knows Stella wants to go after the Swansons. She knows we’re meeting with experts, and she knows we’re here.”
I can’t even bring myself to describe the torture of being locked in the bunker, because none of it seems real. But I do it anyway.
“How did Caroline know?” Lucie cuts me off when I stop, gasping for breath, my lungs burning.
“Pascal.” I whisper his name like a poison I need to expel.
“Your Pascal?”
“He was never mine,” I snap, the words stinging my throat. “She was apparently his student too. Ten years ago. And she was in love with him. They had an affair. He got bored like he always does, moved on to the next girl, but they stayed close. Maybe she’s still in love with him.”
