Private Society Desiree Link

"Then what?"

Member #12: The Chanteuse. Her voice could melt glaciers, but her desire was a blade: To sing one song without seeing my father’s face in the wings, drunk and clapping too early.

It had been answered.

"My desire," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "is to find my daughter. And tell her I never stopped wanting her."

The Collector nodded, reached into his pocket, and handed her a file. "Her name is Lena. She’s a librarian in a small town three states over. She has your eyes. And she has been looking for you for two years." private society desiree

I want to know who Desiree really is. Not the curator. The woman. I want to see her fail.

She chose the latter.

Desiree took the file, her hands trembling. The Lattice would continue—other desires would come, other burdens to witness. But for one private, impossible moment, a desire had not just been witnessed.