(The Triumvirate Histories Book Four) What does the world think when a girl who'd been dead for three months turns up at the site of a huge CIA raid, which ended up with an explosion and four deaths? That she might have been in a stickier situation before than they'd known. What did they think would happen when she had a major panic attack after she realized that everything about her was gone, locked away in her mind? Well, obviously what did happen...or else they wouldn't have been prepared to knock her out again with morphine. And just who would that girl be? Me, Emmy Alexander...at least, that's who they told me I was. You know the stories of people with amnesia after a traumatic accident. They don't remember weeks, months, or maybe even a few years of their lives. I'd call them lucky, because they at least had a foundation to build on. Me? I couldn't remember a thing when I'd woken up after they'd knocked me out after my panic attack. I couldn't remember me, my family, my best friend, how I'd gotten the burns and cuts that now marred my body... I couldn't remember whose green eyes haunted my dreams every single night. My therapist said that my memories might come back in my dreams, when my subconscious mind was free to be revealed. And so far, she'd been right. Parts of my life were slowly coming back to me - my father's laugh, my mother's smile, my brother Jason's and best friend Drake's annoying overprotectiveness. But there were others that I couldn't explain - a tale of secret societies, puzzle keys, bronze boxes, and break-ins to museums and government buildings around the world. It wasn't until I saw those eyes on a man, who seemed so familiar that it made my heart ache, from across a gallery in the Louvre. A man who introduced himself as John Raymond. And it didn't take me very long to realize that maybe, just maybe, he was the key to everything.