Adrian sat beside her, but left a couple of inches between them.
One guard untied the boat from the dock and the other thumped the roof of the boat, indicating they were cleared for departure. The engine rumbled, and within seconds they were pulling away from the rocks and the island and the gray, cold prison that sat foreboding at the top of the cliff, its massive walls and guard towers fading into the pervasive fog.
Nova shivered as she watched it disappear, torn between her joy at Adrian’s apology, her relief at being free of that place, but also the knowledge that Ace was still there.
“Here,” said Adrian, unbuttoning his coat. Nova watched mutely as he snaked his arms from the sleeves and draped it over her shoulders. Warmth blanketed her, mingling with the spicy scent of aftershave that she hadn’t even known she’d memorized until then. It only served to make the moment seem even more unreal.
“How are you feeling?” asked Adrian. “They didn’t … You weren’t hurt in there, were you?”
“No,” she answered, sending her focus back to the island, though it quickly became a ghostly outline and nothing more. “But no one’s told me anything. What happened? How was I cleared?”
Adrian grimaced. “It was brought to our attention that all the evidence we thought we had against you was … circumstantial.”
Nova dared to meet his gaze, ignoring how her heart sputtered at the sight of him and how he was once again watching her with affection. The affection she’d been sure she would never see again. She hadn’t realized how she’d been starved for a soft look from Adrian, or one of his signature smiles. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to crave his steady presence, his unwavering goodness. She dug her fingers into the fabric of his coat, pulling it tighter around her shoulders.
“It didn’t hurt,” he continued, somewhat wryly, “that Nightmare herself was the one who brought that to our attention.”
Nova started, thinking she must have been too caught up in her emotion to have heard correctly. “Excuse me?”
Adrian started to tell her a story that left her more baffled than before. Nightmare showed up at a department store and proceeded to taunt them about how she had framed Insomnia? Nightmare was … she was the mirror walker?
Nova’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“I know, it was hard for me to wrap my mind around it at first, too. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more it makes sense. Of course she would want to frame you, of all people, after what happened between the Detonator and the Librarian. And why she would choose the fun house at the carnival for her hideout spot—it had that hall of mirrors, remember? And also how she got into our house to steal the Vitality Charm without being caught on our surveillance systems, and how she got all that stuff from the artifacts department. Every bathroom has a mirror in it, and every building has bathrooms. That’s how she gets around so easily. Plus, she’s had access to all those black-market weapons, and a connection to the Anarchists, through her grandfather’s business. It all fits together.”
Nova gaped at him, feeling mildly insulted.
They thought Narcissa Cronin was Nightmare? She’d seen the girl fight, and it wasn’t exactly impressive.
“Plus,” Adrian added, “she had the helmet.”
“The helmet?” said Nova, her mind still reeling. “You mean … the helmet?”
He nodded. “That confirmed it for everyone when we told the Council. They ordered for you to be released immediately. Everyone is back at headquarters, scrambling to secure it against Nightmare, now that we know what we know. Taking down all the mirrors. I need to go secure the house, too, but I needed to be here for you first. I owed you that much.”
He lowered his head sorrowfully, and Nova could sense another stream of apologies brewing. Before he could start, she asked, “What about Danna?”
He sat back against the bench, his hands interlocking in his lap. “She’s fully recovered. Doing great.”
“I mean … what did she say when … she was told that she was wrong? That I’m not Nightmare.”
Suddenly avoiding her gaze, Adrian looked out toward the water, in the direction they were heading. There was a wall dividing them from the captain at the helm, and the boat’s single guard had stayed out on the deck, so they were alone in this tiny room with its freezing-cold metal benches and mildew-covered windows. “She … admitted that she