“A memory,” Remi repeated.

“But it wasn’t my memory.”

“What?” Remi blinked. “What exactly did you see?”

Ben breathed in deeply. He was still for a moment longer, and then he sprang to his feet. His wet clothes clung to him; through the light of the fire, she could see the outline of his body—the curve of his back, the slight flex in his arms as he crossed them over his chest. She dropped her gaze, trying to fan her desire for him away.

“I saw Soleil fall.” He paused as if his plan to tell her might not have been the best idea. But then he said, “Rather, I watched someone push her over the edge of the cliff. She pulled me from my room this evening, and I followed her outside. I watched it all—it was as if she wanted me to see it happen.”

“A vision,” Remi murmured, frozen as she recalled her own horrifying vision. Edgar’s white eyes, her name on his pale, dead lips as he called out to her, just as Ben’s sister called to him. It was uncanny that they should both experience a haunting at the same time of the night. The Leones were restless sleepers.

“Yes.” He nodded. “A vision. Her memory.”

Remi swallowed. She didn’t believe in ghosts, visions, or phantom apparitions. “Couldn’t it just be a nightmare?”

“No.” He was adamant. “This was different.”

“But Ben⁠—”

He turned, a wild look in his eyes. There was a vulnerability in his expression that she didn’t expect to see. It pierced her heart. He was a little boy again, desperate and raw. She waited, her lip quivering as he approached, sinking to his knees in front of her. His eyes, so wide and deep, seemed to plead with her.

“It wasn’t my memory, Remi.” He spoke her name, low and deep—a mere rumble in his chest. “I know this because I was there when she fell. I was the one who found her body on the beach.”

Remi’s tea spilled to the side as her hands shook. It soaked into her blanket as the cup tumbled from her fingers and to the floor between them. She pressed her lips together to stave off her quivering.

Ben took her hands, though he was also shaking, and held her gaze. “She was showing me her memories. It can’t be just a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” Remi asked, though her voice shook.

Ben pulled away, pushing himself again to his feet. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive for returning. Outside of my father’s passing, I knew I could investigate Soleil’s murder. That is the reason why I’m staying and not leaving after tomorrow.”

“Murder?” Alarmed, Remi jumped to her feet. “You think she was murdered?”

“I do,” he said. “I always have.”

Of course, he wouldn’t believe the rumors. He’d just said he was there, that he’d seen everything.

Well, almost everything, she thought. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Ben scoffed. “As if anyone would listen. I was ten, and Father? Well, you see how well he took the news.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I don’t think I will ever forget.” The memory of his leaving brought up the bitterness of her unanswered letter to him. The scent of fresh ink spilling over blank parchment still lingered, as did the words she hoped would reach him. It was a short letter: You’ve been gone these too long years and still, my heart has never forgotten you. I yearn for the day that you might turn up on our shores. I need you, please come for me. Though it was months ago now, the sting of his rejection gripped her heart still.

She knelt to clean up her broken cup, surprised when his hand stopped her from touching the shards.

Gently, he said, “Don’t. You’ll cut yourself.”

“I’m sorry about your sister,” she whispered. “And now, your father? I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

Ben squeezed her fingers, and she made the mistake of looking back up at his eyes. The tender expression on his face tore her open. “I’m sorry you’re mixed up in our family’s misfortune.”

The warmth from his fingers distracted her from the broken cup. It felt nice to be touched, to have someone hold her hand again. She licked her lips. “I’m not.”

Though he did not fully smile, the tug at the corner of his lips was enough to make her blush. Scooping the broken teacup into one hand, he held out his other and waited.

“You must think me a madman,” he said as he pulled her to her feet.

Remi felt dizzy. “I think…nothing is impossible.”

For that, she earned a true smile in return. “That’s kind of you.”

“Is it?” She swallowed, feeling his breath close to her.

He nodded, his next words drowned out by the chiming of the clock behind Edgar’s desk. Its timing was a signal to them both.

“It’s late,” Ben said. “We should return to our rooms.”

“Oh.” Remi tried not to express her disappointment. “Of course, you're right. I’ll just tidy up and take⁠—”

He stopped her as she tried to take from him the broken cup. “Come on then.”

Remi grabbed their blankets and bundled them in her arms. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat defeated. Their moment, a good one—ruined by the temerity of an old clock. In her head, she cursed it for its timing.

“Goodnight, Remi,” Ben said.

“Goodnight,” she paused, suddenly too shy to speak his name. “Ben.”

She started down the hall alone, shuffling reluctantly. He watched her, lingering in the doorway. Her feet stopped, and her heart fluttered as she turned to face him again. His brows lifted in query.

“I do believe you,” she said. “I just want you to know that.”

She looked at him, waiting for him to say something. His stoicism had returned.

“That’s all.” She bowed her head. “Goodnight.”

The echo of his silent reply followed her up the stairs and back into her room.

Even if he didn’t thank her, it was enough for Remi to have said it. Some part of him, however deeply hidden, must have felt relieved to have been heard.

Once undressed, Remi curled beneath her covers and closed her eyes. She fell asleep to the sound of rain and her heartbeat. When the morning light finally peeked through her window, she realized that sleep came and went without issue. All that was left of the night before was her wet nightgown and a perfectly folded piece of paper on her bedside table.

BURIAL

REMI

APRIL, 1898

It was only a month before that Edgar first brought Remi to the family mausoleum.