“You really don’t,” Flavia says, surprised at the lack of rancor in both her voice and Ophelia’s. Another product, clearly, of the day’s happenings; one that would pass as soon as it had begun. “You and Daffy both.”

As she says the name of their missing middle sister, Flavia wishes she was here with them—even as she’s glad whatever forces operate Darrow have caused her to stay away. Daphne would’ve completed their trio, even as she formed the wedge that would push Flavia and Ophelia apart and back to the roles they’d played back home. Any other day, Flavia might’ve hated Daffy for it, but today, she almost pities her.

“I don’t even know how tall she was, or—or what she sounded like when she laughed."