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And somewhere in this city, the Unraveler was hunting Weavers. Erasing them from existence just like they'd been erased from the records I'd studied.

Had any of them tried to resist? Had any of them known what was coming?

Or had they simply vanished one day, their lives cut short, their stories lost?

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, exhaustion washing over me again. Tomorrow would come whether I was ready or not. Tomorrow, I'd put on that dress and become someone else. Would learn to navigate a world that wanted to erase people like the ones I'd spent three years trying to resurrect.

But tonight, I was still just me. Still just a historian who'd stumbled into her own research.

I had no idea if that would be enough to survive.

CHAPTER 8

AUGUST

Iwas halfway through my second cup of coffee when I heard the commotion. Sharp footsteps on the entrance hall floor, the rustle of skirts, and then Adeline's voice breaking the morning quiet in half.

“Where is he?”

I set down my cup and braced myself. Mrs. Hartley's muffled response was too soft to make out, but I knew that tone—the particular pitch of Adeline's fury.

The pocket doors to the study slid open without warning. Adeline Wolfe stood in the doorway, all five feet and two inches of righteous fury wrapped in a sage-green walking dress. Her blonde hair was pinned up with ruthless efficiency, and her brown eyes promised murder in a dozen inventive ways.

“Adeline.” I stood. “Good morning.”

“Don't.” The word snapped like a twig underfoot. “Don't you dare 'good morning' me, August Hawthorne.”

Behind her, Garrick appeared, looking resigned to his fate. “I did warn you she wouldn't take this well.”

“Take this well?” Adeline rounded on her brother. Then back to me. “You volunteered me to harbor a potential Weaver, to live in your home, lie to everyone we know, and risk your father's wrath if this goes wrong. 'Not taking it well' implies I had a choice in the matter.”

“You do have a choice,” I said carefully, though we both knew it was a lie.

“Oh, do I?” She turned that razor-sharp gaze on me. “And what happens if I refuse? This woman gets delivered to the Unraveler? Dies because I wouldn't play along with your scheme?”

The accuracy of that assessment shouldn't have surprised me. Adeline had always been perceptive—too perceptive for her own good, my father had once said. A dangerous quality in a woman.

“Yes,” I said simply. No point in sugar-coating what we both already knew.

Something flickered across her face—anger giving way to grim acceptance. “Of course. Because that's how it always works, isn't it? Do what the hunters say, or someone dies.”

“Addie—” Garrick started, but she held up one hand.

“Don't. I'll do it. I'll play the doting cousin harboring my poor relation. But I want to meet her first. I want to see this woman who's supposedly from the future and decide for myself if she's worth the risk.”

“That can be arranged,” I said.

“Now.”

“She's likely still asleep⁠—”

“Then wake her.” Adeline's tone brooked no argument. “If I'm going to lie for her, put my reputation and possibly my life on the line, I deserve to know what I'm protecting. Or is she such a delicate flower that she cannot handle a simple introduction?”

I almost smiled.

“Very well.” I moved toward the stairs. “But perhaps we should establish some ground rules first.”

“Such as?”