Well that's moderately concerning.

"Uh. We also found out some stuff about how they're using Nectar at the hospital? They said their two most interesting cases were a pair of eight-year-old girls, one with the surname Donovan. We were gonna think about how to get access to any medical records that existed."

"What I do for medical records mostly is walk in and ask an assistant nicely. Eight. Christ."

"If that works. Worried it'd come off as a tad too suspicious if I did it, I've been hanging around the hospital a lot lately. You'd be looking for anything on Tereza Doe and Lela Donovan."

"Oh, and Montgomery Donovan probably sacrificed Portia Sapenzia to the bigger Mouth in February last year, which is when Nectar supply here rocketed. So long as we're going over events."

"Well. Fuck."

(That night Mordred dreams he and Anemone are on the street in some city, listening to jazz music coming out of open windows. Just walking around. Listening and talking; his brain doesn't bother to come up with what. But then a police car drives by and Anemone starts to run, so he runs after her. He and Anemone end up in this maze of alleys, their shadows huge on the walls, and that’s when Anemone turns on him. She has a shotgun in one hand and a snake in the other. And the snake bites him, over and over, on his arms, and then she fires the shotgun right into his stomach… and that’s when he wakes up.)

(Oswald dreams that Mordred is in a forest. A dark forest. And he's running. The ground and the underbrush are spattered with blood and with something like honey. He's bleeding, too, from a gash on his arm. And he was chasing a wolf, or something, at first, but then the wolf was chasing him, and he comes through the woods all crazed and mad and bloody, and he runs up to Oswald with a knife or a machete in his hands… and that’s when he wakes up.)

Oswald does not feel like processing that right now. In terms of what he's prioritizing today, the mouth is probably more objectively concerning but Oswald cares more about the kids. On a gut emotional level, he means.

Araari is also very concerned about the kids! ...Also about Mordred but she’s less sure of next steps on that one.

The mouth is probably more objectively concerning but there are more obvious steps to doing anything about the kids. (Mordred takes a moment to be very grateful that Gale is in New York and does not need to be talked out of throwing himself into the mouth.)

He's just sort of not thinking about the other thing he learned yesterday. He'll deal with it later. He tells himself he'll deal with a lot of things later but it's fine probably.

Mordred's thing has apparently remained stable for over two decades now without anyone even knowing it was a thing, it'll probably keep.

What are the obvious steps to doing something about the girls. Go... find them?

Anemone or someone else—Mordred?—can go ask more questions at the hospital, maybe? Other than that...pretty much, as far as Araari can tell.

"Does anyone want to come with me to lie our way into a hospital records room?"

“I probably shouldn’t.” She sounds sad about it, though.

"I'm not the best at lying. Maybe there's... public records of the girls, somewhere?"

"If you do the talking it'll be fine, right?" Contrary to popular belief he is not the worst liar in this room. Might not even be the second worst now, he's been practicing.

“If we look through public records we can look for anything on Portia Sapienza, too, I don’t think we’ve searched for her name yet, and anyone else with the last name Donovan?”

And the party splits.

In the newspaper morgue, Araari finds that Portia Sapienza was a socialite who attended many parties and other events covered in the newspaper's society pages. She died in February of 1934 but her obituary is silent on the cause. 
 
 
 
 
 

Why can't anyone organize libraries in a way that makes any sense at all to Zoe. She starts flipping through things at random, and unsurprisingly fails to turn up anything by this strategy.

Having failed to find any relevant information, the next obvious thing to try is finding a cafe near Donovan's house and loitering there.

Montgomery Donovan lives in a fortified townhouse in northwest Valletta, located on a hill just south of Great Siege Road, overlooking the waters north of Valletta (and Donovan’s yacht). A private garage, underneath the house, is the only access in the rear, aside from windows. The whole affair was constructed in the 17th century and renovated in the early 20th. It’s a structure of solid stones and sturdy bricks, with no windows on the house’s right or left sides except for the topmost fourth storey, which stands higher than the neighboring buildings. She keeps her curtains drawn on all but the fourth story’s front windows.

A dead gull lies rotting in the street, half-crushed by passing cars, its feathers matted and sticky with blood.

Zoe orders a cafe au lait and a newspaper and asks for a pastry recommendation, and sits and sips and reads.

The chauffeur arrives in the early morning; they overhear him say something in English to a man who is probably the valet. It's just logistical stuff about Donovan's plan for the day-- she apparently has a lunch meeting.

Donovan leaves her home in the late morning. She departs on foot, with an entourage of six-to-eight men and one woman, but her car — a silver town car with tinted windows — leaves about 90 minutes after she does and heads southeast. The entourage is dressed in nice suits that do not quite hide their guns.

Araari recognizes the way her guards hold themselves-- they're military trained, ready to fight, and packing heat. (She leans over and tells Zoe this, quietly.)

"Sounds like she may be expecting to run into some trouble at lunch. Or before."

“Or she goes everywhere like this. I’m unsure which possibility is more frightening.”

The cook, valet, and cleaning lady all seem to be live-in staff. Zoe can hear snippets of their conversation, some of which are in languages she knows and some of which are languages she does not; she relays as best she can phonetically, and between her ability to hear things and Araari's ability with languages they discover that the valet speaks English and French; the cleaning lady speaks English and French; the cook speaks English, French, and some language neither of them know; and the driver speaks English, Italian, and some language neither of them know.

During a lull in the eavesdropping: "I kinda wanna see if we can find a way to snoop on Donovan's meeting, but I don't like the look of her escort."

“I would— rather avoid them, yes.” This is an understatement. Araari very much does not want to anger the military-trained guards. “Did they even say where it was—?”