Genevieve woke disoriented in her childhood bedroom, struggling to recall how she had come home. Her last clear memory was a carriage leaving her at a silver gate with an invitation in hand. Salem appeared abruptly, unusually serious, and told Genevieve she was in deep trouble for straying from the itinerary Ophelia had made for her.

In a brief exchange that showed his devotion to Ophelia, Salem forced himself to eat black licorice she disliked so she could enjoy the red pieces, underscoring how he chooses extra effort as an act of love. He then pressed Genevieve about her reckless search for answers and asked what she remembered. Genevieve recalled being in Rome, stalked by crows, and picking berries near a grand gate; she assumed the berries poisoned her.

Salem corrected her: the demonberries were not the cause. He said she had died four days earlier and that two large men had delivered her corpse through a portal, along with a locket containing her soul. Salem explained it was extremely difficult and costly to revive a mortal body after the soul had been removed.

Feeling a hollow ache in her chest and sensing she was different, Genevieve asked what had been done to her. Salem said he lacked enough magic to reforge her body and soul and had to take something in exchange: all her memories of a person she loves. He warned that memory is fragile and that overwhelming her with details could harm her further, refusing to give specifics.

Ophelia arrived and embraced Genevieve, both relieved and stern. She chastised Genevieve for traveling without telling anyone and promised to give Genevieve the answers and care their mother never had, if Genevieve would stay out of trouble. Ophelia told her to freshen up and read a first letter that would begin explaining events.

Salem produced an envelope with a familiar seal and said they had agreed Genevieve would receive the story in installments each week; he added that “he” had withheld details even from them, anticipating Genevieve would resist this approach. After Salem blinked himself and Ophelia away, Genevieve opened the letter and recognized the handwriting’s elegance, though it was not Barrington Silver’s signature.

The letter was signed by Rowington. The sight of his name sent a visceral shiver through Genevieve, who sank onto her bed and read. The letter’s opening lines described her likely impatience and confusion, promised the truth, and said it would start at the beginning, setting up the unfolding account of what had happened to her.