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Atta hung up on Marguerite and followed Sonder and Gibbs to her room, where they repeated the night they’d stood there and first saw Lisle speaking to a news crew about them.

Only this time it was international news.

An American woman in a navy suit sat at a newsdesk, the sketch of Atta and Sonder plastered on a screen behind her. “A pair of masked individuals have spent the last months curing the Plague that has run rampant in Dublin for nearly seven years. No one can verify who they are or how they’re doing it. But we at CBS News have spoken to several of the cured patients and they sing high praises for these masked heroes.

Atta’s stomach roiled.

Sonder looked away, his lip curled in disgust. “Turn it off.”

Gibbs flicked off the television, and they all three stared at each other. “I think we’re going to need that help now,” Sonder said quietly.

The phone in his office rang and he went to answer it.

Gibbs swallowed hard. “He means for me to start helping, doesn’t he?”

Atta nodded, but there was a banging on the front door before she could answer. “Jesus, what is this chaos?” she mumbled. “That’s probably Vasilios.” But how could she have made it to Murdoch Manor so quickly?

The knock came again, more urgently, and Atta opened the door.

“Emmy?”

“Atta?”

They traded befuddled looks.

“What are you doing here?” Atta opened the door wider and pulled Emmy inside, shoving down a pang of guilt that she’d hardly kept up with Emmy at all since she’d been expelled.

“I followed Gibbs,” she explained, gawking at the manor’s lavish foyer. “He’s been acting so strange lately. Cagey and dodgy. So I followed him here.” She paused her slow circle, mouth agape. “Where ishere, anyway?”

Sonder came around the corner, and Emmy’s eyes widened as she slowly turned them on Atta. Apparently, his presence was a sufficient answer.

“Oh, hello there,” he said casually, sliding his hands into his pockets and looking to Atta for an explanation.

“She followed Gibbs here.”

“Where the fuck are you two?” Gibbs’s voice came from the sitting area. “Marguerite is on the phoneagain.”

Sonder growled curses and stomped off. Atta grabbed Emmy’s arm and followed him.

“Marguerite?” Emmy whispered, struggling to keep up with Atta’s frustrated pace. “Professor Vasilios? Ow, quit squeezing me so hard!”

“You can’t just follow people to strange places, Emmy.” She gently pushed her friend to sit on the sofa.

Emmy scoffed. “You fucking disappeared from the face of the planet, Atta. I’ve barely heard from you for two months, and you want to talk to me about being in a strange place?”

Atta sank into a chair. “Fucking hell,” she muttered, scrubbing at her tired eyes.

“You all seem very stressed,” Emmy said absently, looking at Gibbs and Sonder arguing over who should talk to Marguerite and back at Atta. “Did I walk in on something?”

“Atta,” came Sonder’s voice as Gibbs stomped away. “A word?”

Atta pursed her lips and looked at Emmy. “Stay here and don’t wander off, all right?”

Hands in the air in a show of surrender, Emmy leaned back on the sofa and picked up an old copy ofLaboratory News, flipping the magazine open.

With one last wary look over her shoulder at her friend she hadn’t seen in far too long, Atta followed Sonder into the billiard room.

“Shall I get a candlestick?” he said cheekily as she entered and shut the door.