I walk back from the graveyard through the portal to Paris, hail a cab, and make my way to Rue Merlebleu and the Rimbaud Building. It is winter here, bitter cold, and freezing rain falls from the sky. Weary, I let myself into my flat.
"I thought I would find you here."
I startle, turning around to see Samael with a bouquet of lavender and roses, my favorite flowers. He attempts a smile, but it looks like the grimace of a child with a toothache.
I sigh. "What is it, Sam? You can't bear to let me have some privacy for like two seconds?"
He shrugs, placing the flowers into a vase with water. "I was worried about you, Shana." He sniffs a rose. "Come, smell the flowers. They're exquisite."
"I'm sure they are," I say, sighing. I take the porcelain doll out of my bag and look at her delicate painted skin, free of cracks or blemishes. Samael's eyes widen as he catches sight of it.
"Impossible," he says, voice faint.
