Page 135 of Nightshade

“What is your point?”

“This is the kind of crap that keeps me tangled in this creepy little web of a place. Unlike you, who seems perfectly content to accept such coincidences, I need answers. Like, why the freaking Sybil in this book is named Camael. The name of my cat. This is the kind of thing that is driving me to madness!”

Still standing at the foot of my bed, he quirked a brow. “I see that.”

“No.” I shook my head, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’re not going to try to turn me into a mental case, like Anya did. I am not losing my mind. There is a reason. A puzzle. And every puzzle has an answer.”

“Does it? Perhaps there are puzzles with no solution, Miss Ravenshaw. A never-ending quest for something that can never be resolved.”

I refused to believe that. There was a much bigger picture where all the small coincidences fit perfectly into place. I was only seeing a small fraction of it.

“You’re here because of your father, correct?” he asked.

“In part, yes.”

“And what is the other part?”

“To know if he was crazy for what he believed in.”

“And are you any wiser for being here?”

I pondered the question for a moment. Had I learned anything new about my father?

Could I admit that this was anything more than me clinging to stubborn will?

“This individual you saw on the so-called flyer … the one you claim will be in attendance at the ball, what is so significant about her?”

“I need to find out if she remembers anything.”

Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms. “What for? If you’re unable to return, what does it matter?”

“It matters. And I will return. Mark my words.”

Smiling, he shook his head. “You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

“You are, in fact, going to the Harvest Ball, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said in a bored tone. “But as we already discussed, you’re not.”

“Right. You probably already have a companion.”

“It so happens I don’t. And I don’t intend to bring one.”

“The flyer, though … it stated that a companion is required.”

He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Again with this silly flyer. Yes. A companion is required. However, you needn’t trouble yourself. I’m still not taking one.”

“How will you get in without one, if it’s required?”

“I’ll get in.”

“She’ll be there.”

Sighing, he strode toward the door, where he came to a stop. “This is all futile, Miss Ravenshaw. The likelihood of this woman remembering anything about her old life is slim. And what do you intend to do with the information? It’s essentially useless.”

“I remember everything. I haven’t forgotten a single detail of my life. So perhaps you’re wrong.”

“It is unusual that you still remember, but trust me when I say, everyone inevitably forgets in time.”