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Jesmine was presumably preoccupied with the Slip she’d caught. And while Jesmine had hinted at Lord Ember’s likely return, I had yet to hear of his arrival.

Just because my hands were more idle, it did not mean my mind was.

A sense of hopelessness had settled in my bones.

The first few days after my possession, every thought was shadowed with overwhelming despair.

When my thoughts drifted to Devrix, it brought about a mix of emotions that I wasn’t prepared to face. I forced my focus elsewhere.

At first, I contemplated purposely upsetting Jesmine so that she would just finish me—end the unease and save me weeks of worry until she ultimately burned my life out. But the thought was fleeting; I knew I would never do such a thing.

And then there was Claire. I had given her hope, and now I had none.

It was as if when Jesmine extracted the Slip from my body, that foul soul took every trace of hope with it—I felt like a coward.

In front of Claire, I tried to mask how hopeless I felt.

But she sensed it, and when I caught her regarding me with sadness one morning, I decided I would come up with a plan to help her escape after I was gone.

The thought that I could help her gave me purpose when I couldn’t find it for myself.

Even more, developing a plan consumed my time, filled every thought, and I was happy for the diversion.

As the days passed, my plan evolved. A list formed. One of the most important items I needed: the elixir. It was a risky plan—too risky to involve Claire. And if it didn’t work out, by not telling her, I would save her from another disappointment.

I waited until dinner had been served, and the hall was quiet.

Sly as a cat, I tiptoed up to the third floor. I stopped down the hall from the lab and tucked myself into a dark corner, listening. I could hear movement. The clink of flasks, lighting of matches. The sound of boots told me it wasn’t Jesmine, but Jarrett.

For hours, I stood. Until my legs ached and the initial zing of determination had transformed to doubt.

How late will he stay in the lab? … The right moment will come—I just need to be patient.

At last, silence fell. Jarrett had either slipped out for a moment or was in the back room. Traipsing on the pads of my feet, I slunk in and crouched beside the tall bookshelf next to my wooden offering chair.

I had eyed the space many times, thinking it a smart place to hide in a situation such as this. If someone walked by directly in front of me, they would easily spot me, but from other areas of the room, I should be hidden.

A cork popped from the back room. I need to act quickly. There was no telling when Jarrett might return. My pulse thumped in my ears as I held still to listen.

Every day when I offered my blood, I eyed the vials, narrowing down my options.

There were two containers I presumed to be the Slip elixir.

The first, sat on the second shelf from the top, sixth bottle from the right, with a silver tag.

The second was on the bottom shelf, in a larger corked jar with a brown tag.

I had never been near enough to read the labels, so I didn’t know which bottle would be the better choice.

I could hear water being poured in the back room and leaped at the chance. I crept across the room toward the vial on the lower shelf and flipped the tag. Scales2— that didn’t seem right.

I took a quick glance around and sprung up to inspect the second option. Second shelf down, sixth bottle in. It isn’t there . I recounted and scanned the neighboring containers. Where is it?

“Nova.” I whipped around. Jarrett stood at the back of the room.

“I, uh, dropped something when I was here this morning.” I almost rolled my own eyes at the flagrant lie.

“I thought we had already discussed this?” He shifted, ignoring my excuse. We both knew I had been caught. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re looking for?”

I held still, not sure what I could reveal, or what excuse would be believable.

He walked over and stopped in front of me.

A moment of silence passed. He reached for a bottle among the shelves, selecting a vial with a black label.

“I have been thinking about this since the last time I found you snooping.” He studied the bottle in his hand.

“If I were looking to escape, I would want this one.” He handed it to me.

My eyes flared wide with shock.

“Keeps the Slips away,” he added. “I believe you have had it before.” A divot in his brow appeared. “I trust you at least have the sense not to speak of this and keep it hidden.”

I nodded slowly, too stunned to speak. Can I trust him?

He glanced over his shoulder. “You better be going.”

Is this some sort of trick? He is just handing the elixir over to me, the exact mixture I need—what was in the two vials I had planned to take?

“Thank you,” was all I managed to say before I rushed back out into the hall, slipping the elixir into my apron.