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“Kinda. I liked the way you interpreted them to me since Kate was insistent on reading them in Mondurian. I remember Killian hated them. When he walked in, he would always blare music and force us to dance instead.” The memory of living room dance parties becomes tainted just like anything else involving him seems to. Everything is dripping with new meaning and it’s tearing apart my insides. The truth will do that.

“I found that manuscript today.”

“Impossible.” Vivian’s mouth gapes open. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but I know she’s in as much shock as a person can be in without going into literal shock.

“I found it in Aedon’s library.”

“Josie.” She grips the counter. “He could be trying to kill you.”

“No. He genuinely had no idea what it was. He would have already killed me by now. He’s had plenty of chances.” Wouldn’t he? Am I telling myself lies? “I was reading through it, and I was reminded of your favorite story. Pandora’s Box.”

She bristles. “My mother would roll over in her grave if she knew we read that blasphemy.”

“I found the box.” The silence that descends between us could murder a nation with how it sucks the oxygen from the air.

Her response is simple. “No.”

“We can’t ignore this, Viv,” I continue. “It’s real and it’s at the museum. That note Staff sent. It had a ticket to an exhibition on Tartarus. They have proof that the Mondurians existed. If that was real, then what about the rest of the stories? I saw things in that exhibit that are too similar to pretend there isn’t truth in it all.”

“That may be, Jo, but this has nothing to do with us. We need to be as far away from all of this as possible. We can thank the dead for our lives and that’s as far as we should be involved. We’ve moved on. We don’t stop and look back. Whoever and whatever happened that night has no place here anymore,” she warns me.

“What exactly happened that night, Vivian?” My question is loaded.

“People died, that’s what.” Her voice rises in trepidation.

“You and I both know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Vivian looks like she could pass out. Then her eyes glaze over as she’s trying to process what I’m saying.

“Did you see anything weird?” I ask.

She averts her gaze to the counter, notices the spilled drink, and rushes to clean it up. Vivian distracts herself with manual labor when she doesn’t want to talk about something. I’ve pushed the envelope, but now I have to tear it open.

“Like what?” she briskly asks. “Like a snowstorm in the middle of the hottest time of the year? Or maybe an entire village being iced over in a matter of minutes?”

“Like the earth cracking beneath my feet, and then creating a blazing fire, and burning everything in my path including the entire house.” She meets my gaze. “It’s time we talk about it, Viv.” I want answers, and she is the only person that I know that can answer them.

“That could have been anything,” she reasons.

“Vivian.”

“I mean we live in the Underworld, and the place resettles all of the time.”

“Vivian.”

“Whoever killed them probably put flammable liquid through the place and trailed it out, trying to cover their tracks. Then they spooked. You used to secretly smoke cigarettes with Killian, so embers probably—”

“Vivian!” I pull her from her rambling.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I don’t know what I saw, Josephine.”

My full name. She never uses it.

“I did that, didn’t I?”

“Why are you asking about this now?” she asks with caution.

The only thing I can do is be honest with her. She was there, and we’ve been bonded by that wretched night more than we already were. It’s our darkest secret.