Trinket was determined to find Tory and convince her that her new "weapons" might be a potential hazard. Thankfully, she had plenty of opportunities to go out alone, as Booker was spending hours in the laboratory trying to figure out how Benedict had managed to create fangs that could inject venom into a bitten victim. So while he was preoccupied, she combed the streets.

Being as inconspicuous as possible, she searched every alley and dark corner, always wary of any Mice that might be lingering about. She had to take advantage of Booker's current distraction before he decided to throw himself back into the hunt. It would require subtle persuasion to win over Tory's trust, something in which Booker did not excel. Unfortunately, Trinket's search proved fruitless, and she began to fear Tory's voices had advised her to flee from Tinkerfall.

After returning from another unproductive visit to the market, Trinket headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Before she could even light the stove, the bell at the front door rang frantically. Furrowing her brow, she set the kettle aside and returned to the hallway.

Gin nearly knocked Daphne over in her excitement when she opened the door. "Booker! Booker!"

"He's in the laboratory," Trinket said, catching the urchin before she could trip over the rug in the hallway. "Is something wrong?"

"I got really good news. Like really, really good news."

"Is it about the vampire?"

"Of course. Would anything else even interest Booker?"

"Fair point. Let me go get him."

Trinket hurried downstairs and informed Booker of Gin's arrival. It took all of three seconds for him to bolt up the stairs, Trinket doing her best to keep up with him. Gin was waiting in the parlour, pacing back and forth, and when she caught sight of Booker, she looked like she might pounce on him.

"Gin, you have news?" Booker asked breathlessly.

"Oh, boy, do I have news," she said, not even bothering to hide her gleeful smile.

"About Theo?"

"Yes, sir."

"And?"

Gin reeled in her excitement and took on a more collected persona. "Now, it wasn't easy, mind you. You didn't give me a whole lot to go by. A nickname and blonde hair. I mean, come on."

Booker's fingers fidgeted as he nodded his head. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry I couldn't give you more."

"But you know me. I never like to turn down a challenge," Gin continued, clasping her hands behind her back and casually walking about the room. "So I put some ears out there, found a few leads, infiltrated some conversations."

She stopped at a gold-plated mirror on the wall, rising up on her toes to see her reflection so that she could adjust her hat and straighten her tangled braid. Booker's jaw clenched, and it was all Trinket could do to hold back a chuckle as she watched the urchin toy with this brilliant doctor like a cat would a mouse.

"So? You were successful, I assume?" Booker finally asked.

Gin cast a smug smile over her shoulder. "Aren't I always?"

Giving up, he heaved a sigh and held his hands out pleadingly. "Gin, please, you're killing me here."

The urchin's smile grew, and it seemed she could no longer keep up the game. "I found her," she said, bouncing over to him and handing him a piece of paper.

"Theo?" Booker asked, unfolding the note and scanning its contents.

"Yep. I got a night flower who's her neighbor to write down what she knew about her. Turns out she works at the Clocktower. She lives with a whole bunch of people in a tiny little apartment, and they split the rent. That old fella who died? He was one of the roommates. The night flower, Lydia, even wrote down the names of the roommates she knew. Says the girl's name is Theodora Carstone. Seventeen years old, no family, came to Tinkerfall a few months ago."

Booker's eyes lit up as he took in the information. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Glancing at Gin from over the paper, he said, "This is perfect."

The urchin pulled herself up to her full height and puffed out her chest. "Well, I am the best of the best, you know."

His smile growing, he leaned down and drew her into a tight embrace. "Beyond the best of the best. The very best. There is no competition."

Gin was glowing with praise when he let her go. "So I did good?"

He chuckled and looked down at the note again. "You did better than good. This is exactly what we need to move forward in this game."

~

They lost no time formulating a plan. With a little bit of bribery, Booker was able to find out Theo's schedule at the Clocktower. Armed with this information, he and Trinket made their way to the alehouse the very next night.

Trinket's heart beat against her ribcage as they walked down the street. "Is this going to work?" she asked.

Booker shrugged. "We can only hope." He glanced down at her, a crease forming between his eyes. "Are you all right? You seem a bit pale."

Nodding, she forced a smile. "Just tired. I've been having trouble sleeping."

"You and I both."

She peered up at him curiously. "Still? It's been weeks since you stopped taking the drugs."

He sighed. "Yes, well, it comes and goes. Unfortunately, my insomnia does not assist me in my work. You'd think being unable to sleep would give me time to work on my designs and studies, but all I can think about is how tired I am and how much I want to sleep. And then I start to panic about whether or not I'll ever be able to sleep again, and then I can't stop trying to fall asleep, which only makes me more anxious and exhausted."

She chucked. "Vicious cycle, isn't it?"

"Is this what you deal with regularly?"

"My sleepless nights are usually the result of hallucinations. The anxiety and panic, though? They are something I am far too familiar with."

Booker tightened his grip on her arm. "You're a very strong person. I don't know how you've done it for so many years. All alone, too."

"I had a family, Booker."

"Yes, but from what I can tell, they weren't all that helpful."

Her eyes flitted to him, and she was surprised to see his face scrunched up in resentment. "They tried to help the best they could," she said.

"By sending you away to a prison disguised as a hospital?"

It's where you belonged.

A sting of guilt pierced her heart. "There were those in my life who wanted to help me. I was just a lost cause."

Merrill came to mind. He had tried to help her. He truly had. And she only hurt him in return.

No, worse than that.

Murrrdereeeeerrr.

It was no wonder her family sent her away. Attempting to help her only put them in danger. She was a menace. She deserved to be locked away.

Forever.

Buried in the ground.

Menace.

Monster.

Killer.

"You are not a lost cause."

Booker's firm voice pulled her away from her dark thoughts, and she met his intense gaze. "I appreciate your support," she said.

He gave a soft smile. "Well, it's your family's loss. I know I wouldn't be so foolish as to cast off such a brilliant, compassionate person such as yourself."

Though her heart swelled to hear him utter such sweet sentiments, she couldn't help but wonder if he would feel that way once he discovered the truth of what she had done. Of what sort of person she really was.

Let him meet Tory.

The truth will come out soon after.

Can't hide it forever.

She swallowed hard and gave her head a shake.

"All right, you remember the plan?" Booker asked when they reached the Clocktower.

She nodded, pushing the voices into the back of her mind. "Of course."

Taking a deep breath, he flashed her a quick smile. "Let's set this trap into motion, then."

He opened the door, and they were greeted by a thick haze of smoke and the pungent smell of vomit mixed with the heavy spices from the stew of the day. They quickly parted ways. Trinket tried to blend in with the crowd while Booker moved about the room, searching for his target. From a safe distance, she watched as he spotted Theo serving a table of tired servants. Keeping his gaze on the girl, he found a vacant chair and took off his hat, laying it on the table.

As Theo walked by, he caught her attention. They talked for a moment, and then Theo walked away and returned shortly with a mug of ale. Booker waited until she was out of sight before pouring the contents of his drink into the empty mug of an inebriated man sitting at a nearby table. When Theo passed by again, Booker handed her the mug, which she took back into the kitchen only to return with it moments later, filled with more alcohol.

This scene repeated itself three times before Theo, her expression filled with concern, seemed to suggest that Booker call it a night. Trinket nearly laughed out loud as Booker put on a show of inebriation. He leaned forward to ask the girl something. She nodded, motioning for him to follow her. He rose to his feet, leaving his hat behind as he stumbled after the girl, almost knocking into several patrons in his overzealous attempt at acting.

Trinket wove her way through the sea of bodies, heading towards the stairs. She waited anxiously, her eyes darting about as she stayed alert to her surroundings lest someone like a Mouse sneak up on her. She had yet to tell Booker about her encounters with Squeeze, and she feared the thug might still try to make good on his threats.

"Got it, let's go," Booker said as he suddenly appeared by her side, slipping his arm around her waist and leading her up the stairs.

They made their way down the hallway, stopping at a door with the number ten painted in faded gold paint. The door jamb was splintered and cracked, and the lock seemed to be stuck as Booker tried to turn it. But the door finally swung open with a little encouragement from his shoulder, and he quickly ushered her inside.

The room was very much like the one they had stayed in before, after an encounter with Scales had left Booker shaken enough to want to wait out the night in the Clocktower. Stained blankets, threadbare curtains, and a mysterious stench that seemed to permeate the peeling wallpaper and scuffed wood floors.

"Well, shall we fight over the bed again?" Booker asked with a teasing smile.

"Do you think she'll be the one to come?" Trinket asked as she leaned against the writing desk in the corner.

"She was the one serving me. I figure she'll have to clear the table to free it up for other patrons. And I did make a very pitiable drunk, so I'm certain she'll remember me."

"And how did you manage that?"

He sat himself on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms out. "I told her how my dear, sweet wife of three years took ill a month ago and died within a week. And seeing as this was our anniversary, I wanted to forget that I had ever experienced the burning fires of love that had so cruelly been doused and smothered, never to ignite again."

Trinket raised her eyebrows. "She bought that?"

Grinning, he leaned back on his elbows. "I'm a very good actor, my dear. I daresay she was nearly moved to tears."

"Won't she be sorely disappointed when she finds out you were toying with her sympathy."

"Yes, but she'll also be relieved to find out my wife is alive and well."

"You don't have a wife, Booker."

There was a knock at the door, and Booker's mouth quirked into a crooked smile. "Perfect timing."

Rising to his feet, he opened the door to reveal Theo standing in the hallway, his top hat in her hands. She flashed him a quick smile. "Sir, you left this at the table and—"

Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Trinket. Before she could speak or try to run, Booker grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her into the room, clamping a hand over her mouth. He kicked the door shut and leaned against it.

"How kind of you to return my hat," he said to the terrified girl. "If you don't mind, though, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."