“How did you know we"d be here?” Bartleby ushered me inside. “You better be alone, Kellan.”
“I am. I need to ask you both an urgent question.” While I still wasn"t certain the pair were innocent of both murders, they could"ve killed me the last time we"d met at the lighthouse.
Constance sat in a reclining chair with incense and a candle burning. “Ask away. I should be giving readings at the Fall Festival, but the world thinks I"m dead. It"s almost as if I"m watching my own funeral unfold before my eyes.”
“Are you certain no one else knows Madam Zenya"s true identity? Have you told anyone that you are Constance Garibaldi?”
Bartleby shook his head. “I"ve only known for a few months. It"s been a well-kept secret.”
Constance darted her eyes in the opposite direction. “I considered telling
