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When I am under control again, I freshen up and head downstairs to begin Sophie’s instruction. Jacques is gone, and Elena is downstairs running the museum. Sophie presses me for information about my conversation with Jacques, but I gently rebuff her, and eventually she gives up and stops pushing me. When her schoolwork is done, I announce that I’m taking her for a late lunch in Old Town. I need fresh air, and more importantly, I need some distance from Elena.

I find Elena downstairs and tell her I’m taking Sophie out. She doesn’t seem pleased, but there are guests around, and she doesn’t forbid me.

The cold afternoon air invigorates me. I breathe deeply, welcoming the chill and the calm it brings to my emotions.

“Is everything all right, Mary?” Sophie asks.

“Everything is wonderful now,” I tell her. “I just needed to get out of the house for a little while.”

She smiles sympathetically. “Yeah, it’s hard to be inside all of the time, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I agree. “People need fresh air every once in a while. Besides, as long as I’m living in your beautiful city, I should enjoy the sights, shouldn’t I?”

She smiled wistfully. “I wish I could have seen the Christmas lights. Luc told me they decorated the whole city. It sounds wonderful!”

“It does sound wonderful,” I agree. “Perhaps if I’m still here next year, we’ll help decorate.”

Sophie squeals and claps her hands. “That sounds fun!”

We enjoy lunch at a nearby café. I order a crepe with prosciutto and spinach, and Sophie gets one with strawberries and cream. I drink fresh coffee, and she enjoys hot chocolate, a timeless standard popular with children, young and old, since its invention.

After lunch, we walk down the Rue Etienne-Dumont. The buildings here are of similar construction to the museum, but the cobblestone street is narrower, and they seem to loom taller because of it. In daylight, with the light blanket of snow and the crowd of people taking in the sights of the historic avenue, the image is cozy and quaint, but I have little trouble imagining the buildings looming over me like monsters in the dark of night. I’ll have to limit my excursions to daylight.

Speaking of daylight, the sun is nearly set by the time we return home. The museum is slow at this time of day, and Elena is there to greet us when we arrive. She smiles warmly at Sophie and hesitantly at me, then accepts an embrace from her granddaughter. Sophie excitedly recounts our adventures while Elena listens raptly, and Heaven help me, but once more, I feel myself inclined to forgive Elena. She might be paranoid, but she is good to her granddaughter.

When Elena is able to get a word in edgewise, she says, “That all sounds wonderful, Sophie, but I believe it’s time for you to wash for dinner. I assume you don’t need Mary’s help to do that.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Ha ha, very funny, Grandma.”

Elena chuckles and pats her shoulder. “Run along. We’ll join you for dinner in a moment.”

When we’re alone in the foyer, Elena says, “I’m sorry for Jacques earlier. I just… I really need to find that pocket watch.”

“I understand that, ma’am,” I reply, “but continuing to harass me won’t help you find it any faster. You trusted me enough to take your granddaughter alone into the city, so I don’t think it’s presumptuous of me to ask that you trust me enough not to steal from you.”

She reddens a little. “No. It’s not presumptuous at all. I’m sorry.”

I nod and smile to show her I’ve forgiven her. “I do hope you find it. It’s a tragedy that such a historic piece could have been lost.”

“It is,” she agrees, “more than you know.”

I return to my room to wash for dinner myself. Instead, I spend the next half hour searching for the watch, terrified that I’ll find it hidden somewhere, a victim of another one of the fugues that have plagued me ever since I first started searching for Annie.

Annie. I haven’t even begun to look for her here. Maybe that’s what’s causing me such distress. It wouldn’t be the first time that guilt over such hesitation had impacted my mental health. But how can I devote time to looking for Annie when I’m embroiled in this mystery almost upon arrival? And it might be simple enough to leave, but then what about Sophie? I’ve already become quite attached.

When the search reveals no missing pocket watch, I heave a deep sigh of relief and head downstairs for dinner. I’ll shower after Sophie is put to bed.

I should feel good that the watch isn’t hidden in my room, but on the other hand, it only means that this mystery hasn’t yet been solved. I don’t want to involve myself in it, but it lingers in the back of my mind no matter how hard I try to push it away.

I fear that regardless of my wishes, I will be involved in this one way or another.

***

Just before I go to bed that evening, I am disturbed by low voices giggling outside of my bedroom. I frown and get to my feet, putting on my shawl and slippers. Once dressed, I open the door just in time to see the elevator close.

My frown deepens, and I take the staircase down to the first floor. The unheated stairwell is bitingly cold, but my efforts are rewarded when I exit the staircase just in time to see two small figures disappear into Exhibit Two, the one containing George Rousseau’s grandfather clocks and the famous missing pocket watch.

My eyes widen. Two small figures? There should only be one.

I rush toward the exhibit, and when I open the door and see Sophie and Luc Meyer playing with the large automata clock that Francois fixes the other day, I gasp.

“Sophie! What are you two doing?”

The children flinch and stare at me in shock and guilt. Luc flames bright red—the poor boy will never be able to hide a blush—and Sophie hangs her head in shame.

Neither of them answer, an understandable but decidedly frustrating reaction common to children caught in an act of misbehavior. I address Luc instead. “Luc. What are you doing here? Does your father know you’re here?”

He nods vigorously. “He knows.”

“So if I call him right now, he’ll tell me that you’re allowed to be here?”

It’s a weak bluff. I don’t have his father’s phone number. It works for the children, though. Sophie’s tongue loosens, and she immediately protests, “He will! Grandma asked permission for him to sleep over!”

I blink. “Your grandmother gave him permission to stay the night?”

“She did! I promise!”

“She never told me,” I counter. “I can’t imagine that she wouldn’t tell me if I was expected to watch two children tonight.”

Sophie gasps. “She didn’t tell you?”

I cross my arms. “No, she didn’t. Which is why I’m talking to you. And now I’m wondering if you’re making things up.”

“I’m not making anything up, I swear!” she calls.

She's on the verge of tears, and permitted or not, Luc is here. I’ll have to follow up on whether or not he’s allowed to be here, but he’s here. So, I sigh and tell her, “All right. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But I still need you two to tell me what you’re doing down here in the museum after hours.”

The two children look at each other. I give them a moment to decide whether they’re going to be honest with me, then help them along. “Why don’t we go upstairs? It’s late. You two should be in bed.”

Both of them turn to me and exclaim, “No!” Sophie adds. “We’re just exploring.”

“Yeah,” Luc agrees. “Exploring.”

“You did a lot of exploring the other night during the party,” I remind them.

“Yeah, but the adults were down here,” Sophie explains. “We didn’t get to look around down here.”

Her eyes flick to the left when she says that. It’s perhaps the most well-known physiological sign that someone is lying. I give her a stern look. “Sophie, if you can’t be honest with me, then I’ll forbid you to come downstairs without supervision.”

She pales but tries once more. “You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mother!”

“Shall we wake your grandmother, then, and ask her if you have permission to be down here?”

“No!” both children cry out once more.

“Fine!” Sophie pouts, “but you have to promise not to tell Grandma.”

“I promise I will tell your grandmother if you aren’t honest with me right now.”

She sighs heavily. “Ugh! Fine. We were just going on a treasure hunt.”

I raise an eyebrow. “A treasure hunt?”

“Yeah. Show her, Luc.”

Luc pulls a leatherbound notebook from under his shirt. I raise an eyebrow, impressed. I didn’t suspect him of hiding anything at all.

He hands me the notebook, and the color drains from my face when I open it. The children mistake the reason for my surprise and grin to each other. “I found that in one of the storage closets,” Sophie says. “It has clues to hidden compartments in clocks that contain old letters and trinkets people gave to each other from long ago. Luc and I are going to try to find some and make our own museum.”

Were I not looking at what I’m looking at right now, I would think of a better way to respond, but I’m too shaken. I nod and say, “Well, this is interesting, but the two of you really are up past your bedtime. You can resume your treasure hunt in the morning before the museum opens.”

The children start to whine, but I cut them off. “No arguments. It’s time to sleep. Go off to bed, both of you.”

They hang their heads. “Okay,” Sophie says reluctantly. “Can we have the journal back, please?”

“No. You took this without asking. I assume your grandmother doesn’t know you have it?”

Color comes to her cheeks, answer enough for me. “I’ll take it with me and return it to her in the morning. I know it’s frustrating, but you must ask permission before taking things that don’t belong to you.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll ask Grandma tomorrow. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“That’s all right. But come on. It’s time to go upstairs.”

I take the children upstairs and leave them whispering and giggling to each other in Sophie’s room. I take the journal with me to my room. I will return it to Elena tomorrow, but first, I intend to read it from cover to cover.

The handwriting in the journal is that of my long-lost sister, Annie.