“She appears to be overwrought,” Ms. Chancellor says to the doctor. “She may need something.”

The doctor nods and reaches into the pocket of his lab coat. “I agree.”

I don’t know what’s in the vial. I don’t care. They all feel the same on the inside. They’re supposed to feel like peace, like bliss. But to me they always felt like your heart was covered with frostbite. They made me so numb I actually burned.

I watch her face fill with terror as the doctor injects the drugs.

“What is that? No! No! Let me loose. Free me this instant. I’m the princess of Adria and I demand to be freed!”

Since the funeral, people all over the globe have been claiming a place as one of Amelia’s descendants. Lost princesses are a dime a dozen, and no one takes her seriously. The doctor never even bats an eye.

Ms. Chancellor’s mouth ticks up and she tries to smooth the woman’s hair. “Rest now, Karina. You’re in good hands.”

“My name is Ann!” the woman shouts. “I’m Princess Ann of Adria, and I command you to free me now!”

The doctor studies her, as if he’s starting to see the resemblance despite the burns that mar her face, but the scars are too much and we are all so sure. “She is clearly very troubled,” the man observes. But I must say, she and the princess do resemble one another. You say they were friends once?”

“Yes,” Alexei says. “As girls. Then they became estranged. My mother was always … spirited …”

Then the doctor leans down. “Your son has brought you to us and we’re going to take good care of you, Karina.”

Her eyes are wild. “Do you know who I am? My name is Ann! I’m Princess Ann and …”

The moment the drugs enter her system, the woman on the bed’s outrage starts to fade, replaced by an eerie, surreal kind of calm.

“Do you know who I am?” she asks again, and this time it’s really a question.

“Rest, Karina,” Ms. Chancellor says. Then she adds, too low for the doctor to hear, “You will never be able to hurt yourself or anyone else ever again.”

Her eyes are heavy. It’s like the drugs and the lies and the misery are trying to drag her under. Soon, she might even give up the fight and go, so Alexei leans down and looks into eyes that are nothing like his own.

“Good-bye, Karina. I think you’re exactly where you belong.”

The woman tries to fight again, to scream, but no sound comes and everyone shuffles quietly toward the door.

Everyone, that is, except me.

For a moment I’m alone inside a memory. A nightmare. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m a long way from being the girl on the bed.

“I didn’t do anything!” she yells to no one in particular. She struggles against her restraints, which is a mistake, I know. But she’ll learn for herself soon enough. “I didn’t do anything!” she yells again.

I ease close and lean down. My voice is a whisper.

“It’s okay, Ann,” I tell her. “It’s not your fault. It was an accident.”

Then I turn and walk away.

When I was twelve years old, I broke my leg jumping off the wall between Canada and Germany. I had something to prove then, some competition with myself that I didn’t even know I wasn’t winning.

Now years have passed and I’m back up here, high atop a wall that my ancestors convinced their husbands to build. It has kept Adria safe for a thousand years, standing guard against whatever enemies might float in on the tide.

I built my walls higher. Thicker. Stronger. But as I sit here watching the sun dip on the far side of the Mediterranean, I can feel them start to crack.

For the first time in a long time, I’d be content to let them crumble altogether.

When I hear a noise, I turn.

And for the first time in a long time, I am not afraid.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Alexei says, but he doesn’t even have to say that, really. He just gives me a look, and I know he knows what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling. He puts an arm around my shoulders, and I know he feels it, too.

“Here you are!” Rosie’s voice carries on the wind. Then she turns and shouts back to Germany. “She’s up here!”

And soon Rosie and Noah and Megan are climbing onto the wall and taking a place beside me. A moment later, Lila’s here, too, with Jamie following behind. He’s not as strong as he was, not as fast. But when my brother smiles and throws back his head and laughs at something Lila is saying, he’s more golden than the sun, and that feels right. Perfect. We sit with our legs thrown over the high balustrades that were made to shelter archers and lookouts and guards.

But we are the lookouts now, and our battle is over.

Only Megan dares to break the silence. “Hey, Grace, how’s Thomas?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “His mom’s gone and his dad is king.” Thomas saved my life, but he changed his world, and I know better than anyone how far and how fast those ghosts can chase you. “I don’t think anyone knows how Thomas is and probably won’t for a really long time.”

“Uh … about that.” Rosie actually stumbles. I never thought I’d hear timidity in her voice, but she sounds almost afraid as she admits, “He and I … talk. Sometimes.”

Now it’s Noah’s turn to laugh as he turns to Rosie and raises an eyebrow.