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She set the gold leaf down on the table. "He didn't vanish," Dr. Vance whispered. "He found a way in ."

She stopped explaining.

The book fell naturally to a dog-eared page: David with the Head of Goliath . She’d seen the painting a hundred times in slideshows. But here, on this page, the colors were impossibly deep. Caravaggio’s own severed head, held by the young David, seemed to stare directly up at her. She felt a chill.