“Is it? Look around, Mr. Reed. One in ten of these masks is not a costume. It is a job. And the Chameleon is here tonight. I’ve seen them change masks three times in the last hour—a harlequin, a doctor, now a doge. But the hands... the hands are always the same. Long. Steady. Left-handed.”
“Serafina, if you’re lying, I’ll—” dangerously yours masquerade script
She presses the white rose into his hand. Thorns prick his palm. “Is it
Alex waits. A single torch flickers. At 11:44, Serafina descends the slippery steps. She’s removed her mask. Her face is pale, beautiful, haunted. “Is it? Look around
“What did you remember?”