Thank you everyone for reading! I appreciate all of the reviews!

Chapter 36

Raoul

Meg was in the kitchen with Janelle, helping to prepare dinner. I'd elected to stay in the parlor, half-reading a novel. I'd been on the same page for ten minutes, and this wasn't a large book, nor was the print small. I was merely unable to think of anything but Philippe.

I'd resented Philippe since I could remember ever having an opinion of my brother. Mean, womanizing, pompous - he'd given my family name a reputation. And I...well, I suppose I loved him, as he was my only sibling.

But if he hadn't been blood...

I think I would have hated him.

It was hard not to, when he'd never actually been kind to me - the kindnesses he had shown were small and effortless. A gift at Christmas or on my birthday. Taking me on trips to England or Spain. But never any real connections. Never any true brotherly affections. I'd been closer to my wet-nurses, to my nannies, than I had ever been to my brother. And I'd never known my parents - my mother died in childbirth and my father, a much older man, passed of heart failure when I was two. By then, my brother (half-brother, really, as our mothers were not the same) had already been in his mid-twenties. He'd raised me.

Reminding me to be grateful for it every day. Reminding me that I was, in fact, a burden. Reminding me that I would never, ever be good enough.

I heard Meg and Janelle laugh at some joke I'd missed, and my body relaxed some. Never mind my brother. He would be fine. He was rich enough to afford the best doctors. He'd make it.

A knock at the door.

"Raoul!"

"It's us!"

The twins.

Again. Only a day later.

Surely they hadn't had enough time by now...

I went to the door and opened it. Albert and Julien were both dressed in their best, each holding a pie.

They grinned.

I glanced back, but nether Meg nor Janelle had seemed to leave the kitchen. I looked at the twins. "Are you here with information?"

"We are here with desserts," said Julien.

I raised a brow at them. "For?"

"Dinner." Albert sniffed the air. "And I can smell it from here."

"I think it's beef stew," Julien commented. "Is it beef stew?"

"Janelle wasn't expecting guests," I said lowly, "and neither was I."

"Janelle!" Albert called, loudly. I think my ears rang. Julien snorted.

A beat. "Is that my most favorite twin in Paris?" she called back.

"Well now!" yelled Julien, voice offended by face gleeful.

"And there is my other favorite!"

Both twins chuckled. I glared at them. I heard Janelle's footsteps behind me. "What can I do for you two?"

"We have brought pies," said Albert. They both held up the flaky desserts. "Lydia made them." Lydia was their own cook. "We were hoping there was enough stew for us as well."

"Of course," she responded. I looked back at her. She saw my facial expression. "Assuming Monsieur is all right with this, of course."

I sighed, and said, "Janelle, I'd like to speak with the Martins alone. Is that all right?"

"Of course, sir." She went back to the kitchen to join Meg.

I turned back to the twins, both looking entirely pleased with themselves, and I left the apartment. I closed the door behind me, as I'd done yesterday morning. I had shoes on this time. "What in fresh hell are you doing?"

"Visiting our friend, of course," replied Albert.

"Our good friend, Raoul," added Julien.

"Our best friend."

"A man we'd die for."

"Well, maybe not die for."

"Experience pain for."

"Depends on the pain, I suppose. Nothing too terrible."

"Be mildly inconvenienced for."

"What kind of inconvenience are we speaking-"

"What," I repeated slowly, "do you want?"

"To meet Meg," answered Julien. "A girl has finally piqued your interest. We want to see what, exactly, makes her so special."

"Other than the fact that she's hiding from a deranged woman-killer, of course." Albert gave a charming smile.

"No." No. Definitely not.

"Why not?" they both asked at once.

"Because..." I scoffed. "It's inappropriate. She's trying to...process. I don't think she wants company-"

"Have you asked her?" said Albert.

"Yes, have you?" piped in Julien.

I scowled. "No, but-"

"Then ask." Albert gave a crooked smile. "See what she says."

"My, Janelle, this is delicious."

"You have outdone yourself, really."

I'd decided, as I watched the twins digging into their stew across from Meg and me at the dining room table.

Yes. I'd decided. I absolutely would find the nearest train tracks and splay myself across them, waiting eagerly for the soonest locomotive to crush me underneath its wheels. It would be preferable to whatever they were going to say to Meg.

I couldn't believe she'd agreed to the company. All she had to do was decline - but no. No, she said that company sounded wonderful.

She'd first asked if they were to be trusted. Every instinct told me to say that no, they were not to be trusted, they were scoundrels of the worst, most hellish degree. But my stupid mouth said yes anyway. They were safe. And they were truly. Lords of jest, often obnoxious, perhaps, but harmless.

The danger wasn't what they'd say to others. It was what they'd say to Meg.

Janelle smiled at their compliments and told them that there were leftovers if they cared for seconds. They'd expressed great enthusiasm at that idea. She walked back into the kitchen.

When she did, they looked at Meg, who was looking back at them pleasantly. Innocently. A little bird staring into the eyes of hungry, clever foxes. I suppressed a groan.

"I have an idea," said Albert, smiling. I stiffened. "Let's play a game of 'How well do we know our companions'? I'll play with Julien. Meg and Raoul will be partners."

"Let's not," I said lowly, through my teeth.

"Come now, Raoul."

"Why don't we sit quietly, instead," I suggested. "Or talk about the weather. Or-"

"But we should have fun! Life is short."

I glared at him. "Not short enough."

To my surprise, Julien elbowed Albert in the ribs, giving him a small look of warning. It was brief, perhaps a second in length, but I saw it. And I felt gratitude for it.

"So, Meg," he said, "you are a ballerina?"

She nodded.

"What's that like?"

As Julien kept Meg occupied, I watched Albert reach into his pants pocket and bring out a small strip of paper. He hid it under his napkin. Not looking at me, but instead nodding quietly to whatever Meg was saying, he slid the napkin toward me. When I didn't reach for it, he gave me a small look, widening his eyes, and nodding quickly at the cloth.

I understood.

I placed my hand on the cloth, Meg not noticing, and pulled it toward me. Albert's hands retreated to the sides of his bowls and he was immediately engaged in the conversation. I lifted the napkin and read the paper.

Detective found Madame Giry's glasses, crushed, in the workstation of a stagehand. We are friends with the Detective's son. That's all we know so far.

I felt the blood leave my face. I hid the note in my own pocket and glanced up to Albert. He gave me a brief look of apology, uncharacteristically grave, and then went back to his conversation. I took a deep breath and made myself join their lightheartedness. But my heart was pounding in my chest.