Evelyn paced the narrow front room of the steep-roofed house she had borrowed for the season, mapping the ballroom in her head again. Three nights from now, the thief would try once more. She would catch him. She had to. The kisses had to stop, and so did the question that kept her awake — why her. She set a tall glass lantern on the table and stared at its flickering candles. One exit would be watched by this — placed on a pedestal where its light would catch any face that passed. The other exit needed a person. A person she could trust. That was the part she could not solve alone. A quiet knock came at the door. Ivo Blackfern stood on the step, ledger under his arm, rain darkening his shoulders. He had come about her brother's accounts, he said. He did not ask why she looked tired. She almost sent him away. Then she looked at him again — the steady eyes, the careful hands, a man who clearly kept secrets like coins in a locked drawer. Pride pulled one way. The empty second exit pulled the other. "I need help," Evelyn said. The words felt like glass in her mouth. She told him only what he needed. A thief. A mask. Two doors. One her lantern would watch. The other, she could not. Ivo listened without moving. When she finished, he said, "I'll take the second door. Not always, not clearly — but I'll be there." He left without asking more. Evelyn shut the door behind him and pressed her palm flat against the wood. She was no longer hunting alone. The trap had two watchers now — and a stranger holding half of it.