“What I mean is, I’m still getting used to knowing I’ve got you. To realizing I can pick up the phone if I need to, or just go by and see you. Come here and see you. That I can tell you I’m scared or sad or happy, or I need some help—anything, and you’ll be there.”

She soothed her raw throat with tea, set the cup down. “Then there’s the guys. I’ve never been friends with men before. Not really. With Flynn and Jordan . . . to be able to talk or hang out, flirt and know there’s nothing there but friendship. To have Simon be able to be with them, to have that kind of adult male influence, it’s another real gift.”

“You haven’t mentioned Brad,” Malory pointed out.

“Working around to it. I’m nervous and excited about finding the key. About this certainty that I will find it, and that it’s connected to Bradley. At the same time, the certainty that it’s connected to him scares me as much as anything ever has.”

“Zo, have you considered that it could be the fear that’s blocking you from finding the key?”

She nodded at Dana. “Yeah, but I can’t push through it. He thinks he’s in love with me.”

“Why do you qualify it?” Malory demanded. “Why can’t you just say he’s in love with you?”

“Maybe I want it too much. And I want it not just for me, but for Simon. I know that’s part of it. Bradley’s wonderful with Simon, but it’s all still, well, novel between them. The reality is this is a nearly ten-year-old boy, another man’s son.”

Saying nothing, Dana walked over, opened a cupboard, and took out their box of emergency chocolate. She set it on the table in front of Zoe.

“Thanks.” Choosing a piece at random, Zoe let out a little sigh. “If Bradley loves me, he’ll take Simon. He’d always be good to him, kind to him, I know that. But wouldn’t there be something missing, that unbreakable connection?”

“I don’t know.” Malory pushed a hand through her curls. “But I’d say that’s going to be up to them.”

“Yes, but Simon’s used to it being the two of us, having my attention focused on him, doing what I say—or trying to get around doing what I say. If this is going to work, he’s going to need time to see Bradley as something other than a friend with a really cool game room. Time to adjust to having someone else have real authority over him, just as Bradley has to adjust to having a child, already half grown. If I just jump the way I want, it means taking both of them in with me, maybe before they’re ready.”

“That’s sensible.” Giving in, Malory took one of the chocolates. “It’s logical. But sometimes this sort of thing isn’t either one.”

Zoe drew a breath. “There are other things. Rowena and Pitte, they said the more I cared about Bradley, the harder Kane would go after him.”

“So you’re protecting him by holding back.” Dana lifted her brows. “That’ll piss Brad off. I know that if it was Jordan, since I love the jerk, I’d probably try to do the same thing.”

“I’ve been going over and over it in my head. This way, that way. If I do this, what could happen. If I do that.” Zoe shrugged wearily. “There’s too much at stake. Everything’s at stake, so I can’t just grab on to something because it looks so shiny and beautiful. Not without considering the consequences.”

“Maybe you should add more to the mix.” Malory laid a hand on Zoe’s. “You might hesitate to grab that something shiny and beautiful because to hold it you have to give things up.”

“What do I have to give up?”

“The house you made on your own, and the life. The family you made with Simon. The shape of everything you have now changes forever if you reach out and take something else. That’s a scary proposition, Zoe. If you don’t reach out, you may lose him. If you do, something else slips away. You have to decide which holds more value for you.”

“It’s not just me. Not even just me, Simon, and Bradley.” Zoe rose, carried her cup to the sink. “My key has to do with courage. But is it having the courage to reach out for something or the courage to walk away from it? We’ve read about the gods, so we know they’re not always kind. Not always just. And they want payment.”

She turned back. “If we fail, the penalty—before it was revoked—would have been the loss of a year of our lives. We wouldn’t even have known which one. It could even have been this year, right now. There’s a fine sort of cruelty in that. Mal, you were given something you wanted all of your life. They let you hold it, taste it, feel it. But to find the key, you had to give it back. It hurt you.”

“Yes, it hurt.”

“And you nearly died, Dana, finding yours. They changed the rules, and you could’ve died.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you might have, and do you think the gods would’ve shed a tear?”

“Rowena and Pitte . . .” Malory began.

“It’s different for them. They’ve lived with us for thousands of years, and in some ways they’re just as much pawns as we are. But the ones behind the Curtain, the ones watching through it, do they care if we live happily ever after?”

She sat again. “How did the three of us come together. How did we have the time to look for the keys? We lost our jobs. A job I needed, jobs each one of you loved. They took that away from us so we would be more useful, then dangled cash in front of us so we’d sign on the dotted line. The motivation may have been unselfish and noble, but they manipulated us.”

“You’re right,” Dana agreed. “No argument.”

“We got this place out of it,” Zoe continued. “But we got it. We took the risk, we did the work. If this place is a miracle, we made it.”

Nodding, Malory sat back. “Keep going.”

“Okay. You and Flynn. You met him when you met him because he was connected. You fell in love with him, and he with you. But if you hadn’t, even if you hadn’t, you’d have made the choice you made up in the attic. You wouldn’t have taken the illusion, however much you wanted it, and sacrificed souls. I know that because I know you. If you’d loved Flynn the way I do, as a friend, as a kind of a brother, you’d have done the same thing.”