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“So,” I said to my brother, after.

After we had restored his mind, and he had come to two days later, gasping and grasping at my duster, a silent question I’d had to answer with a grim shake of my head. After I had filled him in on the events he had missed last summer while he lay comatose in my island prison. After I had told him about Murphy, and we had sat in the cottage in quiet grief.

“There is one piece of news you’ll enjoy.” Thomas looked at me, eyes still rimmed red.

“What?” he rasped.

“Mab’s giving me away,” I said, unclenching my fist to reveal the engagement ring, glittering with Winter cold, worn at Mab’s behest. “To your sister.”

They could have heard Thomas’s hysteric laughter back in Chicago.