Nell stared at Francis in shock for several seconds, unable to feel anything at all.
Then she did.
Anger.
“What is this?” she asked, stabbing a finger at him. That was her family he was making up nonsense about. Her mother. “I don’t know what your game is, but it’s rude, and weird, and cruel. It’s cruel. Did my father put you up to this? Is this some kind of last prank from beyond the grave, to ruin my life one more time?”
But Francis wasn’t laughing.
“Is it?” she snapped, startling a passing party guest. “Is it?”
They stared at each other for several seconds, one steely-eyed with determination, the other still trying to process what sounded like complete nonsense.
Was he trying to scare her? Or trick her? His big reveal was something out of a fantasy novel. A bedtime story for children. An absolute embarrassment to the cartography field, at the very least. Why he thought Nell would buy it she had no idea, but one thing was for sure—if she was going to ask anyone else for help, it was not going to be Francis.
“Fine. Screw this,” she said. “I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t care. I’m going back to Irene, to tell her I found the map in my father’s things like I should have done on the very first—”
Francis’s gaze snapped back to her instantly. Every hint of fear and hesitation that had been there before was utterly gone. There was only grim, absolute focus.
“What?” he asked.
Shit, Nell thought.
She’d been so careful so far. Until now, no one but Swann and Felix knew that she had the map—but she’d just slipped.
He’d stepped even closer to her. “Nell.”
She could see a thousand questions in his eyes.
“Where is it?” was all he asked.
“It’s in a safe place.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Is it at your home?”
“Yes,” Nell lied.
“It’s not safe there.”
“It’s in the safest place I’ve got.”
Francis was staring at her tote bag now, almost as if mesmerized. She could practically feel the leather portfolio inside as if it were on fire.
He didn’t believe the map was hidden at her home at all, Nell realized.
Well, he was right.
Was he going to . . . try to take her bag from her?
Her eyes darted around the crowded room, but no one was looking at them. She searched for Swann, or Irene, or even Felix, but it was just a sea of unfamiliar, glittering faces, all lost in their own conversations.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice so low she could barely hear him. “This is very important. We’ve been searching for a long time, to be certain—your father’s map, the one you now have, is the last copy in existence. And as long as you have it in your possession, you’re in serious danger. You need to give it to me. Now.”
“Right,” she replied. “Just hand over the most valuable thing I might ever have worked on, the thing that might get me my job here back again, because you say so.”
“Please trust me. Look at what happened to your father.”
“How do I know you didn’t do that yourself?” she asked, but from the flash of pain that immediately clouded his expression, she knew it wasn’t true. He’d been the one trying to get her father the Sanborn map. He’d been trying to help him, somehow.
“Nell,” he began, but shut his mouth quickly as someone walked up behind her.