She couldn't hear the music for the routine, but it didn't matter. She heard something better. The tuneless, grinding static that she'd been listening...to through Jack's special headphones for the past several days filled her head, drowning out the rest of Emily's senses. She felt herself doing the spins and jumps and cheers of her routine as though she was some sort of puppet, guided by invisible strings. She felt curiously detached from her performance, watching her body move about as though. "One man was here earlier with news of the murders, as he called them. You killed three grenadiers it seems, all from good families, officers, as you know. They are also looking for the women."A young woman knocked and entered, bowed and stood waiting, her hands behind her. "This is Greta," said the old woman. "She's related to my younger brother's wife, a cousin, right?"The girl nodded her bright-eyed head, jiggling her long curls, her hands behind her."I told her about you, said you might. More

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