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“Precisely my thinking.” Avery ran her hand along the agonizingly boring beige wall, found the break in the illusion, and lifted it up for Saga to enter before her.

“How did the call go?” Saga ducked into the darkness. She was starting to get the hang of entering Hygge this way, but she preferred the more dignified entrance from the Palace of Judication over fighting with curtains to find the glowing door.

“Lahiri is going to look into Elizabeth’s activities the last week. He did warn it may take his team some time. It’s always a little more difficult when you can’t directly ask someone if they’ve been engaging in the use of murderous artifacts without blowing an entire magical society’s cover.”

Saga found the door handle and pushed it open. “Can’t you just wipe their memory after if you’re wrong?”

“A very particular department can, but memories being the complicated knots that they are, you run the risk of either taking too little or too much. Due to the nature of how brains work, the moment you make a memory, it links to others. No memory stands alone. As I’m talking to you now, your subconscious is likely linking this memory to other times we’ve been in Hygge or even when I’ve explained certain magics to you.” Avery scanned the main room the way she always did when they came in. Not finding what she was looking for, she walked toward the winter side. “To put it succinctly, memory charms are precision surgery with a hacksaw. Last resort only.”

It left a bitter taste in Saga’s mouth. “Is that why my mum is the way she is? They hacked Dad out, and because he and I are so inseparable in those memories, it took me from her too?”

Avery was at a loss for words.

“The only time she talks about him is when I’m doing something she’s not pleased about.” Her throat was tight and her breath hitched. “Like being too emotional.”

“Oh, Saga…”

Saga shook her head. She didn’t want to linger on it. “What about Patricia and Abigail? Did you ask about them?”

“He is going to submit a petition to Blackthorn on our behalf. As for Patricia, she’s been moved to the safe house, and I’ve arranged for us to see her tomorrow. Reza will be picking us up first thing in the morning. Which, I imagine, for him means nine a.m. so that he may procure coffee from the café rather than the swill they serve at his precinct.” Avery pointed to the chairs by the fire. “I’m feeling nostalgic, do you mind?”

Saga shook her head, far too distracted by that piece of information to care much where they sat. “Does he have to pick us up? Can’t we just get an address and go on our own?”

“I understand and can sympathize with your trepidation, but do you intend to try to avoid him for the remainder of the investigation?”

Saga wanted to say yes. She knew there even existed a world where she could say yes. But that world meant retreating to her apartment, recusing herself from the case, and wallowing in self-pity. In the harsh light of logic, it did not seem particularly tempting. “No.” She flopped into one of the armchairs. “Did he ask about me?”

“Mmm,” Avery confirmed in a distracted fashion as she got the attention of one of the staff. “He wanted to know if you were all right.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth.” Avery said it so simply, Saga envied her candor. “He mentioned that he didn’t feel confident that, given your state of distress, you should be involved in the case.”

“Shocking,” deadpanned Saga.

“I made it clear that I have full faith in you and your abilities and I am rather pleased with your steps toward self-improvement.” To Saga’s confusion, Avery clarified further. “Your self-defense classes. How has that been going? This hasn’t been interfering, has it?”

“No, it’s a six a.m. class on Wednesdays and Fridays. I’ve made both since I started collaborating with you on this.”

“How are you liking it?

“Looking forward to it,” Saga admitted. “After this weekend, I really need it. It’s cathartic, helps me feel in control.”

“You don’t have to come with me tomorrow if you don’t wish to.”

“I want to,” Saga insisted. She just wanted to without having to deal with her actual life at this point in time. She leaned her head back in thought. “So he knows that I know about Mum now?”

“Yes.” Avery smiled as a faun wearing Hygge’s T-shirt approached. “Pardon us, is your employer about?”

“My manager?” The faun paused, pencil wavering over the order pad, as a look of worry crossed his face.

“Esteri has scolded me that I should never show up unannounced.”

“Oh, she’s with her partner in the spring section? I can let her—”

“Fantastic!” Avery stood with the urgency of someone about to put out a fire. “Excuse me,” she apologized to the faun.

“Where are you going?” Saga called after her.