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After a while, I got up and paced the room, trying to stop picturing him in a torture chamber. I relived every time I had touched him, every small tenderness, every stolen embrace, and the fear that he was gone for good – the fear I couldn’t stop – grew stronger.

Terebell had been searching for him. She would not have given up. No matter how tense the reunion would be, I had to get in touch with her. The vaguest lead was better than nothing.

At two in the morning, I gave up on sleep. I found the gym, where I ran on a treadmill. Once my calves were on fire and I was dripping sweat, I picked up a pair of weights, frustrated by how little I could lift. I had to buckle down and get to work on rebuilding my strength.

By the time I got back to my room, I was physically and mentally spent. This time, I slept at once.

At daybreak, I woke in considerable discomfort, my muscles sore. Trying not to kick myself for going overboard, I swung my legs out of bed and prepared to face Command.

After my antics in Paris, I had to leave a spotless impression. I took a shower, put on my dissimulator and made a concerted effort to tidy my curls. When Ducos knocked, I emerged from my room in a grey trouser suit, bought for the express purpose of seeing Command.

‘Flora.’ Ducos looked me up and down. ‘Did you sleep?’

‘Not much,’ I said.

‘Veronika says she gave you blue aster. I recommend you use it.’

‘I will.’ I locked the door. ‘I don’t suppose Domino knows a way to reverse the amnesia.’

‘No. Its permanence is the point.’

‘Naturally.’ I fell into step beside her. ‘Who’s coming to the secret meeting?’

‘A number of trusted individuals from inside and outside Scion.’ She rounded a corner. ‘I’m confident you can restrain your curiosity for another few days. Until then, concentrate onthismeeting.’

She led me across the enclosed walkway. We took a flight of steps to a lower floor, where she knocked on a large wooden door. I followed her into a room with blue walls, screened against the sun.

A solitary figure in a navy shirt waited at the end of a table. She had a brown and angular face, framed by a cream headscarf. I thought she was probably in her seventies.

‘Flora Blake,’ she said. ‘Do you like tea?’

The question was so unexpected, it took me a second to answer.

‘I’m more of a coffee lover,’ I said.

‘With your lifestyle, I can’t blame you. Help yourself.’

There was a sleek black machine in the corner. Its screen confronted me with unfamiliar words likecappuccinoandespressoandlatte.I picked one at random and hoped for the best.

‘So,’ I said to the stranger, ‘you’re Command, too?’

‘Part of it, like Ducos. You may call me Pivot. I will continue to call you Flora, despite that identity being obsolete,’ the woman said. ‘I confess, I am fascinated to meet the agent who burned down the Château de Versailles. Should I be concerned for this building?’

‘You’re grand. I only burn down tyrants’ palaces.’

‘Very well.’ Pivot watched me. ‘I’m relieved to see you. Widow has told me everything she knows about your return, but I’d like to go over some details with you, if I may.’

‘Widow?’

‘My code name,’ Ducos said.

‘Ah.’

I brought the foamy coffee to the table, feeling as if I was at a job interview. Ducos remained standing.

‘I understand an organisation tried to apprehend you in Poland,’ Pivot said. ‘Can you confirm its name?’

‘The Atlantic Intelligence Bureau.’