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My throat was too tight to let sound pass so I nodded.

“I went every day to that tomb and I studied all the frescoes. This person’s amazing, magical life, and I could believe that she—because it was a woman’s grave—was reliving all her best moments in her afterlife. I got a little possessive of her. And I decided that in grad school I was going specialize in Etruscan history. I felt like Josh had shown me what I was meant to do.

“Then, a few years ago, I came across a text from the 1960s about a possible settlement in Greece of a female community dedicated to the cult of Catha—she was the lunar goddess of the afterlife. And I was sure that the woman in this tomb was an acolyte of Catha. There was an inscription dedicated to her and a small statue in the fresco.”

“This is what your dissertation is about?”

She nodded. “Yes, and when I was in Greece I stumbled across this old book in a used bookshop. There was an image of a cup with the same inscription and an image of women swimming with dolphins. The same image that appears on another wall of the tomb.”

“Wow! That’s a weird coincidence.”

“Right? I get goose bumps even now thinking about it.” She rubbed her hands over her jacket. “So I went to the island where the cup was discovered.”

“Lyra?” That was Callie and Nikos’s island. I’d never been there, but I’d heard so many stories about the place and the people who lived there, that I felt like I had.

“Yeah, I convinced the owner of the cup to have it dated and authenticated. I even found what I believed to be fragments of other Etruscan earthenware. At first, Professor Harris was thrilled—well, as much as he shows it.” She stopped, rubbing at her temples. “But after a bunch of expensive testing later, it turns out that the object was a fake. We’d all been taken in by it. Nikos was so disappointed.”

“Callie’s Nikos?” I was still wrapping my head around the fact that we had these people in common, that we’d been circling around each other like planets in orbit for years.

“He really wanted it to be real.” Indy tossed a fallen leaf into the canal. “I don’t know how I got sucked in. Whoever was responsible for that object was a master forger.”

“Let me get this straight then. You, in good faith, brought an object that turned out to be a fake to your boss and he’s now making a documentary out of it? That’s kind of shitty.” I leaned back, elbows on the cold stone and we both stared at a passing gondola.

“You think so too? Good to know I’m not crazy for thinking he’s taking some weird pleasure in humiliating me.”

“Why do it then?”

“How can I say no? Sabrina, my friend, well you know her . . .” Sabrina’s scowling face popped into my head, as did the memory of her fist tightening around a pair of invisible balls. “She said that all archaeologists have misses and that’s part of the journey. So why not capitalize on mine? But I’m just afraid that no one will want to fund my post-doc research.” She turned to face me. “That’s why going to this weekend and meeting Signore Visconti is so important. He’s giving away a post-doc fellowship. And I need to make a good impression.”

“Well then, let’s do everything we can to get you that invitation,” I said, almost overjoyed at having a mission now. Next weekend was doable. There was still time before October 21.

Ah, fuck. I had already forgotten about my meeting with my commanding officer. If I blew him off, it might really be the end of my career. But Indy needed me . . .

“Hold on, Levi,” Diana said as if reading my thoughts. She pressed her hand onto my arm and we both stared at it. “This is not a ‘we’ situation. You cannot come with me. In fact”—she straightened up and lifted her chin—“I think it would be best of we just ended it here today. We’ll make it abundantly clear to Helen Harris that we’ve officially broken up and there is no chance of us getting back together.”

Now, it felt like she’d held her soft hand out to me to caress me and then hit me instead. “Are you sure about that? Maybe we should just improvise a little, see how things unfold.”

“No, you said it yourself. Improvisation is a very bad idea. Let’s stick to the plan.”

“I don’t know, Indy. I think it might help to have someone at your side this weekend to distract your mean professor.”

“I can do it myself, Levi.”

“In that case, I should just go now.” I started to stand to call her bluff, and she reached out and grabbed my leather bomber jacket.

“Hellooh!” came Helen Harris’s voice from below the bridge.

I let Indy throw me one pleading glance, then turned toward the water taxi. “Helen, lovely to see you again!”

I hopped in the boat and kissed her outstretched hand, and then I turned to help Indy into the boat, pulling her down beside me before she had a chance to sit next to Helen. She elbowed me then scooted slightly away all under Helen’s watchful eye.

It occurred to me that Indy might not want my help and she might be determined to put an end to this ruse she’d created, but Helen Harris wanted a love story and she was just as determined to see us as a couple.

I had an out. Indy had given it to me. But there was a voice inside me that kept repeating. Just a little longer, just a little longer.

I’d have to let her go soon enough. But I didn’t want to yet.

And whether she wanted to admit it or not, Indy still needed my help. And, by god, I was going to give it to her.