I said that Sarah’s brother loved her very much.  He did and he does.  Over and over, items of hers appear where they should not.  Is she somehow watching over me?  Or is she an instrument of Angelique’s?  Some new torture instrument with which she’s threatening me?

Young Loomis doubts that any of my plans will work, and I indulge his attempts to imitate independent thought.  Mimesis is a vital skill for developing minds.

It is all so confusing.  If I never left, and this costume ball is intended to lift the shroud of deluded identities cast upon them by Angelique, then why did Miss Evans perish, and why do I sense Josette’s essence within Miss Winters?

Is this completely a torture of the mind?  Some dark dream of Angelique’s execution?  I am uncertain.  The costume ball seems to have garnered intense enthusiasm, with each player lined up to assume the role I knew them to occupy in the 1790’s.  And Miss Winters?  Thoroughly charmed with a quiet sense of wonder.  Hesitant, yes, but not afraid, Miss Winters shows the perfect balance of common sense and a deep curiosity.

What will happen Friday night?  A theatrical?  An exorcism?  And how to deal with Jeremiah?  I know that the truth of these terrible weeks will finally unfold itself.  Angelique, you shall be bested, and it is I who shall stand the victor.  Fortitudine!


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