Page 122 of Adversary to the Villain

Gideon used to find joy in being compared to the man.

Now, the thought of his father made him ill.

Scanning the note again, his eyes fell to the curling swoops of the penmanship.

Lyssa pushed open the doors to the private study they were newly allowed entry to, beams of drafty light from the windows shining on her flouncy dress. “This is all of them, Gideon.” She placed the rest of the notes she’d received on the mahogany table.

The room was thick with the smell of worn leather and parchment; it took Gideon back to a place he’d been once. Anywhere better than reading the coercive notes left for Lyssa to free Griffin Sage from The Villain’s custody.

Come at once, Lyssa! Your father needs you!

Lyssa, come see your father. He loves you dearly.

Don’t forget to come alone.

It was the last one that felt the most sinister—the desire to isolate her. “Are you angry with me?” Lyssa asked, folding her hands in front of her, biting her lip.

“No,” Gideon expressed vehemently. “I’m angry with the person who wrote you these notes.”

“Marv?” Lyssa scanned the papers beside him.

“I thought so. I think I still do. But Marv won’t be able to tell us anything until his poisoning is cured, and this handwriting—” Gideon pushed the notes closer to her, along with a formal report from Marvin. “See here? I thought the handwritings matched, but on this report, Marv’s handwriting is scrawl compared to the penmanship in these notes.”

“Oh.” Lyssa brightened. “It looks like this!” She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it over to her brother.

Gideon took it slowly, wondering what a piece of cloth had to do with anything, but when he laid the fabric flat against his open palm, the delicate seams sewn with bits of lace, he noticed that scrawled onto it were two words.

It’s Me.

And it was identical to the notes in front of him. “Lyssa, where did you get this?”

“I found it.” She looked like she was contemplating. “Why?”

“Because I think whoever wrote this was the same person who wrote your notes.”

His sister gave him a dubious glance, planting her hands at her sides. “You can tell that by two words?”

“Look for yourself.” Gideon gestured at a few specific flourishes, and Lyssa’s eyes widened.

“Wow.”

Yes. Wow.

Also?

Fuck.

Gideon took off his reading glasses in a huff of frustration. “I don’t see how I’m meant to figure out who wrote this.”

“Someone whose name starts with anE?” Lyssa guessed, and Gideon’s head shot up.

“Why do you think that?”

Lyssa pushed the handkerchief closer, and he squinted at it just a bit. And there it was: a smallEsewn into the bottom.

“Who do we know whose name starts with anE?”

Keeley shoved the doors open, coming in with a grim frown. “I’m giving up. It’s been nearly a day. We’ve tracked the forest, but it’s fruitless. Fate is gone.”