EPILOGUE

Leo balanced on the narrow platform between cars, his knees slightly bent to buffer against the rocking and swaying of the train. Behind him, the access door creaked, but he didn’t turn to see who it was.

“There you are,” Aris said, his voice raised to be heard over the noise of the train’s passage.

Leo shut his eyes and focused on the feel of the wind whipping by, the clattering of wheels over the rails. He’d grown so accustomed to Elsa’s doorbook that now it felt almost like a luxury to travel the slow way through reality.

“That was quite a performance,” Aris continued, seemingly unbothered by Leo’s lack of response. “I wouldn’t have guessed you had it in you.”

Sourly, Leo wondered if he meant the performance he’d given Father, or the earlier one—the one for Elsa. Now Leo turned, wanting to gauge his brother’s response as he said, “At least one of us got what he wanted.”

Aris regarded him mildly, though there was a flicker of calculation buried deep under that expression of innocence. “You’re the one who made the deal: the editbook for Elsa’s freedom. Isn’t that what you wanted? We both know Father would have pursued her if she’d escaped with the book.”

“I did what I had to do. There were no good choices.” He’d only wanted to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from her own sense of responsibility. Now the memory of the moment he’d betrayed Elsa was like a sore tooth—painful, but he couldn’t stop prodding it. Her shocked expression played over and over in his mind. Leo swallowed, his throat tight. “You’re the one satisfied with this outcome, not me.”

Aris looked away, and for once there seemed to be a vulnerability about his smile. “I won’t pretend to be unhappy to have you back, brother. Do you fault me for being pleased at our reunion?”

Leo knew what he’d done was unforgivable. His life in Pisa was gone now. Faraz and Porzia, Burak and the rest of the children—his surrogate siblings. Gia and Rosalinda, who had both been mothers to him in their own ways. Elsa. He could never go back to them.

Aris put a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s cold out here. Come inside with me, little brother.”

“In a minute.”

Aris nodded, acquiescing, and left Leo alone again with his thoughts. It was cold, but Leo welcomed the numbness of the wind against his face. He wished it could numb him all the way through to the ache buried in his chest.

He had stolen the editbook; he had robbed Elsa of her chosen agency as the protector of Earth. So it was his burden, now, to prevent the editbook from ever being used. Yes, he would have to stop Ricciotti. Somehow.

Leo took a deep breath, pulled open the access door, and stepped inside the train car like Heracles entering the underworld. It was time to face his family—once the source of all his joy, and of more grief than his heart could hold.

Time to face his father.