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Nora is alive, she knows we’re searching for her, and after weeks of following the trail Celeste left behind, we’ve reached the first person who can finally answer the questions that have followed us since the parcels began arriving.

“Bane?” Emma’s footsteps are soft against the marble, but I recognize them before I turn. She studies my face for half a second, and concern replaces the smile she’d carried out of the ballroom. “What happened?”

I close the distance between us. “Haven House called.”

Understanding reaches her before I say another word. “Nora?”

I nod. “She’s alive.”

Emma exhales, her shoulders easing as relief washes across her face.

“She went to the shelter yesterday asking whether my family was looking for her. She never left contact information, but she told one of the counselors that Celeste saved her life.”

Emma’s hand finds my arm while she thinks through everything that means. “She’s checking whether it’s safe,” she says. “If she wanted to disappear completely, she wouldn’t have asked whether you were looking.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“And if you’re right…”

“She’ll come back.”

Her eyes search mine before a smile finally breaks through. The questions keeping me awake for three years suddenly feel like they have an ending.

“You’re closer than you’ve ever been.”

I nod and look back toward the ballroom doors, already thinking through the calls Theo will need to make before the night’s over.

“I’ll try to find out what this means and what the shelter can give us, then we’ll keep following wherever Celeste leads.”

Emma walks beside me as we step back into the ballroom, applause rolling across the room beneath the keynote speaker’s introduction of the final award of the evening.

Waitstaff move quietly between the tables collecting dessert plates, guests return their attention to the stage, and the evening slips back into the polished routine we’d planned for months.

“You should call Mara,” Emma says as we make our way along the edge of the room. “I’m sure she’ll want to know about this.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” I pull my phone from my pocket. “She might⁠—”

The words die before I finish them.

Emma’s stride shortens beside me.

She blinks twice, as though she’s trying to clear a room that’s slipping farther away.

“Emma?”

She looks over with an apologetic smile that never quite reaches her eyes. “I’m alright. I think I’ve been running on coffee longer than I realized.”

“You’ve barely stopped moving since this morning.” I slide the phone back into my pocket and guide her toward the nearest chair. “Sit down for a minute.”

She nods, but instead of turning with me, she sways.

I reach for her at the same time she reaches for me. Training takes over before conscious thought does. I’m moving before she’s finished falling.

Her hand catches my sleeve, her knees buckle, and I get an arm around her before she hits the marble. I lower us both to the floor, keeping her head against my shoulder while the conversations around us fall away beneath the scrape of chairs and hurried footsteps.

“Emma.”

Her eyes open halfway.