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“If you think I’ll leave after all this, then you’re sorely mistaken.” Rage bloomed in my chest, thundered in my ears. “I’m not leaving until my mother pays for what she’s done. Elviradied. I can’t—I won’teverlet that go. She knows the truth about Papá and I will never give up on him. Not as long as I’m breathing. Mamá has to be stopped, and I’ll be the one to do it.”

“But—” my uncle began.

“You said it yourself,” I cut in, impatient. “She’s probably after another tomb, more artifacts. Alchemical documents. Who knows how many others will be hurt by her actions? Killed? Do you want that on your conscience? Because I certainly don’t.”

“Fine, stay then,” Tío Ricardo said with some of his former coldness. “I don’t know where you’ll live, but you’re welcome to continue in Egypt if you wish to.”

I blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean, where I’ll live? I’m going to remain at Shepheard’s. With all of you.”

“In what room? With what money?”

Anger rioted in my blood. My voice shook from it. “Withmymoney. I’m an heiress, aren’t I? I ought to have enough money to buy a kingdom. Surely there’s money for me to arrange for continued accommodations.”

Whit looked between us, deep lines creasing his brow. “Akingdom?”

“Inez,” my uncle said, his tone lethal. “Your money is mine until you marry.”

I blinked, sure I misheard. “Do you remember the first letter you sent me?”

“Of course I do,” he snapped.

“You gavemecontrol over my fortune. Those were your very words, or were you lying to me again?”

His eyes blazed furiously. “I said you could have an allowance. Besides, that was before you barged into my affairs—”

“Barged?”

“That was before you endangered your life in the most foolish of ways, before I knew how lousy a judge of character you are. Trusting the wrong people, recklessly putting your safety at risk, nearly drowning in the Nile. You’ve put me through enough; you’ve put yourself through enough. Go home, Inez.”

I inhaled sharply. “Tío—”

“Without money, you won’t last in a foreign country, Inez,” he said, his voice implacable. “I will not help you destroy your life.”

WHIT

The telegram had been waiting for me when we returned to Shepheard’s. It was not from whom I expected. She had never written to me before. Not even once. I didn’t expect her to cut me out of her life. But she had. Thoroughly.

The devil damn me.

I sat in a trance out on the balcony of my narrow hotel room, fixating on the busy street below, but not really seeing it. The noise rose up, familiar butdim, my mind already hazy from drink. Whiskey, I thought. I squinted at the bottle, the label swimming across my vision.

Right. Whiskey. Hello, old friend.

It was fire going down my throat. It would be hell going back up. I wasn’t stopping until I met oblivion. Because I could still see Inez’s face far too clearly in my mind. I could still remember how she tasted.

It had been a mistake to kiss her.

What if my plan didn’t work? Fear worked like acid at the back of my throat. I raced to the water closet in my room and vomited. After rinsing out my mouth, I stumbled back to the narrow desk in my room, thinking about choices and how I didn’t have any.

I had stayed in Egypt if only for the mere illusion of independence. In search of something that might change my fate. But this entire time, I’d been looking in the wrong place. In the back of my mind, I knew there was an expiration date. My parents would snap their fingers, expecting obedience. And I would give it because they knew my weakness.

My time had run out, and now duty had rung its final bell.

The blank sheet of paper at my elbow stared up at me. It was stark and impatient. Again, I thought of my plan and how it could work if I didn’t somehow fuck it up. Which was a very real possibility. I grabbed the pen and wrote one line, and then my family’s home address. Sweat dampened my brow. They’ll be thrilled to hear from me. Their wayward son delivering on his promise.

I stuffed the note in an envelope, and scrawled my brother’s name, flinging the pen away. It rolled out of sight, clamoring to the street below. Jolly. Someone got a new present.

The knock came five minutes later. I stumbled into my room, still carrying a handle of the whiskey, and blinked, looking around. There was only supposed to be one bed. Someone rapped on the door again, louder, and I answered it, scowling.