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“You know her,” Enzo said, rubbing his eyes. “She wasn’t pretending with you. She showed herself to you.”

I closed my eyes.

“Think, Yara.”

“I don’t know.”

“We should follow Kurt,” Enzo said, handing me a cup of coffee. “Drink.”

I shook my head, grabbing the mug from him. I had tried to find Kurt, but Kurt disappeared. Sister Mary Elizabeth said she would give me a call the moment she found him, but I had gotten no call.

She didn’t find him. I knew she probably never would. Once the game was over, Trish would dispose of him, too. Or maybe she already did.

“Kurt hadn’t come back to the orphanage. I think Kurt might never come back. If he wasn’t dead already, he’ll be dead soon.”

“Now what do we do?”

“We can’t spook her. We keep our masks for now. We pretend she’s one of us. That’s how we will find Ryden and Irene. Alive.”

My heart was a mess, but I didn’t let it skew my purpose. I had to keep my brain clear. If I let the chaos take root, we would lose the game.

“What if it’s too late by then?”

“I would die too, but I won’t let it be too late. I know how she works…” I rubbed my face.

So we spent another hour digging into Logan Jones. Then more about Patricia and Trish.

“Yara, look at this,” Enzo said, turning his laptop toward me. Logan Jones smiled from the picture.

“What about him?”

“No. Look behind him.” He zoomed in on the grainy picture. But I saw what he meant. A weathered cabin sat in the background, half-hidden by towering pine trees. One of the windows was boarded up.

Logan might have told her about the place.

“That’s a cabin,” I murmured. “A cabin out of nowhere. A great place to keep your victims locked up.”

“Assuming it still exists,” Enzo said. “And assuming we can find it.”

“Wait. We know someone who can find more about it.”

“Reah…” We both said at the same time as I took my phone and called her.

I grabbed my phone and called Reah. She answered on the second ring.

“Ryden called,” she said before I could get a word out. “I tried calling him back, but he’s not answering. I found Trish. She was born in Detroit, grew up in an orphanage, and—”

“Yes, we know that. Reah, I need help.”

“What?”

“I’m sending you a photo. I need you to find this cabin. As fast as you can.”

“You have one very grainy picture, and you want me to find that cabin?” Reah asked with a huff, but I could already hear the tap, tap of keys.

“Ryden told me you’ve done more with less. He told me you’re a magician.”

She let out a long sigh.