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Had it ever really been there, or was it all in his head?

You’re an idiot. It’s probably a lamplighter heading home for the night.

Pushing away from the wall, Gideon remained on the footpath, taking it to the back of his tenement. The door there didn’t lead to his apartment directly, but through the abandoned space below: the old tailor shop that once belonged to his parents.

Gideon boarded it up years ago and rarely had a reason to enter it. Earlier tonight, however, he’d gone inside looking for fabric and sewing needles to stitch Rune’s flower.

The shop’s interior door opened onto the stairwell leading to the apartments above. Gideon entered the shop and was halfway to the door when something made him stop.

I don’t have a dress to wear,Rune had told him.My seamstress is booked until next month.

Gideon fumbled through the dark until he found the matches he’d left near the door earlier this evening. He lit a lamp and the flame’s orange glow illuminated the room: walls lined with bolts of fabric; a large worktable for measuring, cutting, and sewing; a back room for taking customer measurements; and a front counter with a dusty old register.

Gideon stalked toward the fabrics, where a dozen leather-bound notebooks lay stacked on a shelf.

He hadn’t touched these notebooks since his parents died. They were full of his father’s notes and his mother’s sketches, detailing her original designs.

Gideon lifted the only blank notebook from the shelf, grabbed a piece of charcoal from the jar next to it, and pulled a stool up to the worktable.

If his mother were designing a dress for Rune Winters, what kind of dress would it be?

He started sketching. The black charcoal burst across the white page as he thought of Rune on the love seat: her rose-gold hair flaming in the light of the lamps; her skin flushing as his fingers traced her; her pulse stumbling as he leaned in to kiss her.

Again, he scolded himself for intimidating her. But she was the one who’d invited him back to her room. She had summoned the wine.

She had made the first move.

Either way, he needed to keep up this charade. If she was the Mothandthe one leaving corpses scattered across the city, the closer he got to her, the easier finding evidence of her crimes would be. And if she wasn’t, someone close to her likely was, and it would still be in his best interest to infiltrate her inner circles by courting her.

If she’d let him, that is.

Gideon’s plan was forming on the pages of his mother’s sketchbook.

He kept drawing until he’d ripped out more pages than what remained in the book. He kept drawing until the side of his hand and wrist were black with charcoal and his spine hurt from bending over so long.

It was dawn by the time he had a design he didn’t hate. One he could work with.

The question was: would she like it?

FIFTEENRUNE

RUNE’S RIDING BOOTS CRUNCHEDthe stone path cutting through the university’s campus, where she was meeting Verity and Alex. The blustery wind eddied the dirt into the air and swirled the hem of her riding cape.

The pink granite face of Summer Hall greeted Rune, its studded wooden doors shut tight. Hoisting her satchel higher on her shoulder, Rune pulled open both doors and stepped inside. Purple wallpaper greeted her, patterned with giant dahlias, and the green tiles clicked beneath her boots. There were four dormitories on the university’s campus. Summer Hall was known for its pastel colors and botanical patterns.

If the moment you walk in you’re accosted by flowers on all sides, you’ve found the right place,Verity told her the first time she ever gave Rune directions.

She smiled at the girl at the front desk, who waved her past, used to Rune’s frequent visits. The walls changed to blue irises, then yellow sunflowers as Rune turned down halls, making her way to Verity’s room.

She knocked on the small door, and when it swung in, Verity looked out, squinting. Her dark brown curls were flat on one side, and her spectacles were missing.

She looked like she’d just woken up.

“Sorry I’m early,” said Rune.

Verity blinked. “I completely forgot about our meeting.”

“Oh! Do you want to reschedule?”