Chapter 40 The House That Wasn't Velvet

• Smoke still clung to her clothes, the scent of iron and incense crawling up Isolde’s throat as she stumbled through the Berlin train tunnel.
• Each step echoed. Vivienne limped beside her, holding her own ribs.
• They had run blind from the estate, through the rear chapel passage, down a hatch disguised as a wine cellar vault. Penelope had mapped the estate’s original blueprints; none of them mentioned the tunnel.