The next week passed in a blur, my unanswered questions pressing in at every turn. The man’s motive for the killings remained a mystery, as did his reason for targeting Professor Knight, especially if he was missing half the research still. Whatever the killer had been searching for in the Bartholomew’s vault was still unknown—and then there was that scrap of paper I’d brought back from the past, something which still defied explanation.
But while I had questions in abundance, I had no one to turn to for answers. And also no time to look for them. With the renewal only two days after the wedding, each day was packed and the tension at home was almost unbearable. Things with Papá had been more strained than ever since our fight, even during our daily knife training. At least I had my wedding dress to keep me busy. Sewing hadn’t provided its usual escape, but it at least gave me a reason to avoid the house’s stifling atmosphere. Just because I’d decided to confront my relationship with Papá didn’t mean it was going well.
All too soon, it was the day before the wedding and my final dress fitting at Cogs and Corsets. I’d already been in three times to see Geneve. I slipped a pair of goggles around my neck and adjusted my lace gloves that matched the fabric of today’s dress. My bodice was made of the delicate white lace covered by a supple, brown leather corset with filigree patterns resembling gears. Sheer lace billowed from shoulder to wrist before tightening at my wrist with brass buttons.
“Where are you going?” Papá put down the paper he was reading, revealing a large scowl etched into his forehead.
“I have a final fitting at Geneve’s, but I’ll be back in time for tonight’s dinner.” My skirt, dark gray tulle edged in more lace, rustled as I drew to a stop and took in his sour expression. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re in the paper again.”
“Oh.” I frowned and fiddled with my skirt, then peered over his shoulder at the headline. Annandale family helps catch murderer. “At least it’s for something good. You’re always looking for chances for more good press, especially this close to the renewal.”
“I’d rather have no press at all than press linking you to the Blue Capes,” he growled, tugging on the sleeve of his crisp ivory shirt.
And just like that, the weird tension that had been between us snapped. “I don’t understand why you hate them so much, Papá. Just tell me the truth.”
“No,” he ground out.
“How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t trust me?”
“Because I am your father and I know what’s good for you.”
“I’m not just one of your server bots you can order around!”
He flinched, and for a long moment, we both stood motionless. Me, waiting for I don’t know what, and Papá, battling with something.
“Well?” I resisted the urge to go to him and comfort him even though he looked so old and broken again.
He inhaled a slow, shaky breath, then his tortured gaze met mine. “It has to do with your mother.”
The room shifted, like someone had pulled the rug from under me. “Mamá? But how?”
Papá sat heavily, as if the words he were about to share weighed him down. “While we courted and after we were first married, she...” His hands clenched into fists in his lap.
“She what?” I asked quietly and took a step toward him. His words were a magnet, drawing me inexorably closer.
“She also worked with the Iron Watch.”
“Truly?” There was so much I didn’t know about her. Even more than I thought, but this didn’t surprise me as much as it could have. She’d also wanted to help people. “Then why are you so opposed to my being involved with them?”
“Because they’re the reason she’s gone,” he said sharply, then closed his eyes.
“Mamá died from a sickness,” I whispered.
Papá shook his head slowly. “No, she didn’t. She was completely healthy.”
If this was true, that meant Papá had lied to me—to everyone, really—my entire life. Even though I didn’t want to believe it, I did. His words clicked into place like a long-lost gear, and everything else made so much more sense. The reason I never remembered Mamá being sick. Papá’s distrust, no, his hatred of the Blue Capes. His overprotectiveness. He hadn’t lost her to sickness, he’d lost her to something, and he’d been determined to avoid repeating that with me.
Yet even as it answered some questions, it generated a hundred more, like a spark of electricity going through a circuit and booting up a hundred different systems I hadn’t even known were there.
“Why did you lie about Mamá?” I whispered. “What really happened to her?”
“I didn’t want rumors going around about Gwen.” He looked at me, almost apologetically. “It isn’t easy to bear the burden of unanswered questions, and I thought that would be easier for you to accept.”
“I’ve borne that burden my whole life.” I blinked back tears. “You should have told me. I deserved to know.”
Papá rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Knowing would have just made you as obsessed with her loss as I am. I didn’t want you getting mixed up with the Blue Capes.”
“But... But...what did Mamá even do with them?”
Papá stared at me for a long moment, and an expectant silence settled between us. It was heavy. Too heavy. My legs had trouble holding me up, and I felt breathless.
“You’re just like her,” he said softly.
“Don’t avoid the question, Papá.” I curled my hands into fists inside my gloves. “Not now, when you’re finally telling the truth.”
“I’m not avoiding it; I’m answering it.” He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. Although Papá was looking at me, it felt like he was seeing Mamá. “You’re like her in more ways than you know.”
“All I know is that you hate it when I do anything that reminds you of Mamá.”
“Because the more like her you are, the greater my chances of losing you too.”
I bit my lip, trying to piece together the crumbs he was giving me. “What do you mean?”
He met my gaze. “I mean you inherited more than her stubborn personality and tendency of caring for the downtrodden.”
My stomach tightened as his words confirmed something I’d suspected for years but had never really been able to get myself to believe. Because if it were true, it brought up even more questions.
Papá took my hand, his touch warming my hands that had grown cold even inside my glove. “Gwen could Slip through time too.”