//CLARA//

I didn’t see Casimir again after Aunt Cornelia dragged him away. I don’t know how many hours I’ve been staring at the canopy in my room, twisting his ring, wondering what they had talked about that he never bothered to see me again.

I couldn’t do another fitting. I’d lose my mind. Or worse, I’d stab someone with a seamstress pin. Preferably a man whose name started with B. Or a ghastly spider who couldn’t mind her own damn business.

So I got up.

The black dress was plain, no frills, the kind of thing a maid might wear. I’d stolen it from the laundry two days ago and hidden it under my mattress like I was smuggling contraband. No corset, just a petticoat and my sturdiest boots.

I yanked my hair into a braid, pinned it flat, and called it good.

The hallway was empty. I took the servants’ stairs at the back, not the main one, Aunt Cornelia’s room overlooked the foyer, and that woman could smell disobedience from fifty paces.

The kitchen was dark. I grabbed the basket I’d packed the night before. Just few breads, cold meat, cheese, some apples, water and slipped out the service door.

Outside, the world hadn’t decided if it was night or day yet. A sliver of purple on the horizon, but everything else was still shadow. My black dress did its job. I was basically invisible.

The streets were empty. No one followed me. Or if they did, they were better at hiding than I was at spotting them.

Gary’s building was a sad little thing wedged between a tannery and a boarded-up shop. I’d memorized the route weeks ago. I let myself in with the key I’d kept hidden.

The room smelled like unwashed laundry and regret.

Gary was sprawled on the mattress in the corner, half-dressed, mouth open, snoring like a freight train. A half-eaten biscuit sat on the table next to three empty bottles that had definitely contained gin.

I set the basket down and nudged him with my boot.

"Gary."

He swatted at the air.

"Gary. Wake up."

"Go ’way," he mumbled. "Mmm...sleeping."

I grabbed the blanket and yanked it off.

He curled into a ball, groaning. "Clara? What time is it?"

"Dawn. Sit up. I brought food."

That bolted him right up, eyes bloodshot from sleep.

He practically inhaled the bread before I even got the cheese out. Tore into it like he hadn’t seen food in weeks.

"God, Clara, these are good." He spoke with his mouth full, crumbs scattering across his chest. "Not chicken tenders good, but for a starving man like me, this is heaven."

I grabbed a cup, poured some water, and shoved it at him.

"Slow down. I don’t know how to do the Heimlich on a grown man."

He took the cup and drained it in three long swallows.

I pulled the chair from beneath the small writing desk and sat down.

"You need to meet Casimir."

Gary sputtered, water nearly coming out of his nose.

"What?"

"It’s bad, Gary."

"It’s bad-bad?"

"Triple bad."

He set the cup down carefully. "Why? What did I do? I mean—what did Elias do?"

"Elias Russell is way worse than we thought."

I told him everything. The gambling. The debts. The ledger. The murder of Mr. William Cuthbert at the docks. The syndicate that ran the shadows of the city. I left out the part about Casimir possibly being involved. Some truths were too dangerous to speak out loud, especially in a room with thin walls.

Gary’s face went pale. Then paler.

"Fuck." He grabbed my arms, fingers digging in. "I am so fucked. Clara, I can’t...will I go back if I get killed? If this body dies, do I just wake up in my own time? Is that how this works?"

"I don’t know," I said, and the honesty of it felt cold. "And I don’t want to risk finding out."

He let go and stumbled backward. Pressed his palms against his eyes. Made a sound like a laugh and a sob at the same time.

"So you think your uncle—er, Casimir—could help us?"

"Mr. Cromwell thinks he can. He’s the only one with enough shadow to save you."

Gary let out a hollow laugh.

"Wow. He’s really some catch you have there, Clara. Is he some sort of a mob boss now?"

"Don’t start, dipshit," I shot back, though there was no heat in it. "You’re the one in trouble."

He laughed again. It was thin, brittle, but it broke the tension. Kind of. We were both still walking on eggshells.

The morning air had gotten colder. I moved to the fireplace, a few embers still glowing and held my hands out. My gloves were thin, so I tugged them off.

Gary sucked in a breath.

"Holy shit. Where did you get that?"

I blinked, my brain still loading. "Get what?"

"That fucking ring."

I looked down at my hand. The jade caught the light from the embers, glowing green.

"Oh, this?" I held it up. "Casimir gave it to me. You want to take a look?"

Gary scrambled backward so fast he almost tripped over the bed.

"Get that thing away from me. I am already cursed enough. I don’t need to double my bad luck."

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

"It’s fine, Gary. I’ve touched the diary and the ring multiple times. Nothing happens. No lightning bolts, I promise."

He stared at me like I was insane. Then, slowly, he crept closer. His hand trembled as he reached for mine. He poked the jade stone with one finger.

Nothing happened. No portal opened. The world stayed grey and cold.

He poked it again. Prodded the gold band. Held his breath.

Still nothing.

"See?"

He finally relaxed and then he let out a loud sigh.

"He gave this to you?" he asked.

"A proposal actually."

Gary’s eyes went wide. "No way. You said yes? What about Grandpa B?"

"I am not going to marry that asshole," The words came out sharper than I meant. "We’re planning to run away."

The relief on his face lasted about two seconds before it crumbled.

"You’re going to leave me here?"

"Do you really think that poorly of me?" I shoved his shoulder. "Of course you’re coming with us. That’s why you need to meet him. I have to make you part of the deal, Gary. I’m not leaving my only link to the future behind."

"Oh." His shoulders dropped. "I see. You worried me there for a second."

We sat in the dim light as the purple sky turned to a harsh, unforgiving gold. We talked through the mechanics. Like how I would arrange the meeting, how we would search the entire New York for the ledger Elias had supposedly hidden, and how we would play this card until Casimir agreed to shield him.

"We need to find the ledger," I said. "Did the letters to Elias ever mention anything? A hiding place? A safe deposit box?"

"Nothing. It was mostly bills and correspondence from letters I don’t understand." Gary chewed on his lip. "Could it be at his old apartment? His office? Somewhere he used to go?"

"Maybe. We can try to search. But we need to be careful. Some goons were still literally after your ass."

"Yeah, I know that now."

"Which is why we need Casimir." I turned to face him. "He has resources that can protect you in ways I can’t."

"And you trust him?"

The question hung there.

I thought of everything that happened between us. The way he looked at me through the veil of my wedding gown like I was the only thing keeping him alive.

"With my life."

I said it with much certainty I didn’t know I could possibly give. Which, let’s be honest, was pretty terrifying given the circumstances.

Gary studied my face for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"Alright. When do I meet him?"

"Soon. I’ll arrange it. Until then, you stay here. Door locked. No going outside."

"Clara, I’m going insane in this room—"

"Better insane than dead."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. The fear in his eyes shut him up.

I stood up and pulled my gloves back on. I needed to get back before someone noticed I was gone.

"Stay alive," I said at the door. "That’s all you need to do right now."

Gary gave me a weak salute. "Yes, ma’am."

I slipped out and headed back.

The streets were waking up. Vendors setting up carts. Delivery boys running past. I kept my head down and walked fast.

The mansion was still dark when I got back. I circled to the service entrance, slipped inside, and crept up the stairs. My room was exactly how I’d left it.

I peeled off the black dress, shoved it under the mattress, and climbed into bed in my nightgown just as I heard footsteps in the hallway.

I stared at the ceiling.

Somewhere in this city, there was a ledger that could bring down a syndicate. Somewhere in this house, Casimir was waiting or plotting...I don’t know what’s on his mind.

And somewhere in the next few hours, I had to figure out how to bring them together without everything falling apart.