“When?” she asked, her eyes locked on mine. She sounded like she genuinely wanted to know.

“When I got settled,” I said honestly.

She seemed satisfied with my answer and relaxed into the chair. “It’s gotta be overwhelming for you, coming into possession of the house and all its—responsibilities.”

“You mean the apothecary?”

She blinked a few times, then readjusted herself in her seat. “It’s a lot of work, right? To get it back up and running?”

“Yeah,” I said. I looked around the room again, then back to Marie. “This house is amazing. I’ve seen Beauty and the Beast too many times to not have thought about having a library in my house.”

“You can come over anytime. Give Nyx a call, and she’ll get you.”

I studied her face. “I’m not tryna be rude, but this is all really, really strange. Do you live here alone? And why are you being so nice to me?”

Marie tilted her head back and let out the most melodic laugh I’d ever heard. It sounded like bells. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m a nice person, I guess? I’ve been fortunate, so I like to pay it forward when I can.”

“Okay, and you live here with . . . who? Your parents?”

“My grandfather, Alec. He’s sort of an amateur historian. Most of the older books are his.” She gestured toward the shelves. “He did most of the decorating, which is why this place looks like it’s haunted by the ghost of a French nobleman or some shit. Look.” She pointed to a portrait of a man in a full suit of armor sitting on a tall brown horse, his sword drawn. “Who even is that?”

“Definitely somebody’s soul trapped in that painting.” I grinned and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard her sigh. She suddenly stood and swept over to the couch, taking a seat next to me. She pulled her knee up and rested her chin on top of it. The smooth brown skin of her belly stuck out from under her sweater.

“And Nyx?” I asked, putting my thoughts elsewhere. “Is she, like, your assistant or something?”

Marie laughed again. “She’s more like a bodyguard.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” Marie grinned. “She could fold somebody up, no problem.”

“No, I—I believe it, but what do you need a bodyguard for?”

“I have—My family has some money. People come around trying to get over. It’s a precaution.”

I reached down and picked up a few slices of the gourmet cheese.

“Do you like it?” Marie asked.

“Yeah. It’s like a bougie Lunchable.”

Marie grinned at me. “It’s a charcuterie board.”

“If you say so. Are you gonna have some?”

“No. I’m good. Take as much as you’d like.” She scooted toward me, leaning in closer than she needed to. She smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter. She wore a thin gold chain around her ankle and her toes were painted neon green. I set down the cheese I’d picked up. I couldn’t concentrate enough to eat, which I didn’t realize was necessary until that very moment. Everything about her commanded my full attention.

“Do you want a tour of the house?” she asked.

Not really. I would’ve been perfectly happy to sit there and stare at her like a creep for the rest of the night.

“C’mon,” she said. She took me by the arm and led me out into the hall. “I’ve lived in Rhinebeck my entire life, but I love to travel. Sometimes I just need to get away from Alec and his collection of haunted antiques.”

“You’re not in school?” I asked.

“I graduated early,” she said. “I think I’ve learned more from traveling than I ever did sitting in some schoolhouse.”

I’d never heard anybody use the word schoolhouse when they were talking about school. Maybe rich people did things differently.

We hung a right and she led me down another long hallway lined with more creepy paintings in gold filigree frames. She showed me an indoor swimming pool but said the one outside was much better for swimming in the summer. We came to a set of tall double doors and she pushed them open.

The room could only be described as a mini museum. Glass cases full of artifacts were crowded together at the perimeter of the room. Masks, swords, pottery, clothing, and tools were all expertly displayed.

“My collection,” Marie said. “Alec and I are getting all these artifacts back to their countries of origin. Most of them were stolen, smuggled out, or sold on the black market. So much history looted.” She shook her head. “Now museums charge a fee to look at things that don’t even belong to them.”

“How’d you get ahold of all this?”

“That’s a long, boring story.”

I moved to a display case in the far corner. Inside was a broken bowl that looked like it was made out of gold, and on it was the tiny figure of a woman with three faces.

“The triple goddess, Hecate herself,” said Marie. “That one was a gift from someone I was very close to.”

“Keeper of the Keys,” I said, repeating the words I’d read in one of the books back at the house.

Marie narrowed her eyes. “You know about her?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I’ve been doing some reading and her name is always connected with a woman called Medea.” As I stared at the symbol, it reminded me of the one in the crest on the door in the garden.

“I’ve seen the play,” said Marie. “I love the theater.”

“Me too,” I said smiling. “I haven’t seen it, but there are some portraits of her in the house.”

“Circe loved to read. And that story is tragic, really gut-wrenching. Maybe she found some parallels with her own life.”

“Her life was tragic?” I asked. I turned my attention to another display full of artifacts. “She had a big house, and it’s paid off. She was running a business and I’m sure she was making good money based on what you said about how much you paid her. Doesn’t really seem like a tragedy.”

I turned to find that Marie had moved across the room and was standing not a foot from me.

My heart jumped into my throat.

“Not everything was easy for her,” Marie said quietly. “She bore a huge burden.”