In the Shadows

“The doors are all locked,” Daniel said when he returned. “I

knocked and there was no answer. You’re certain you saw what you

thought you saw?”

“We did! We all did.” Thomas remained at his post by the

window, staring in as though if he looked away things might re-

arrange themselves again. “Someone must have come.”

“There’s no one in there. Cora, I —” Daniel shook his head,

looking away. “We all expect this kind of thing from Minnie, but

not from you. Leave Mary alone.”

She shook her head in tiny, fluttering movements. “No, no, I

would never . . . I’m sorry, we thought . . . we saw . . .” She bowed

her head, defeated by the mysteries of the night. “I’m sorry.”

“Go home,” Daniel growled, shrugging his coat closer. “And

keep better company, Cora, or I’ll have words with your mother.”

He strode down the hill and away from them.

“I know what I saw,” Thomas said, finally tearing his eyes

away from the window to fix them on Cora and Arthur with an

angry intensity. “You saw it, too. We all saw it.”

Cora stared at the room with a dull, creeping dread, the

scar on her scalp tight beneath her hair. If death hadn’t claimed

Mary, that meant it was still lurking, looking for someone else

to take.

“We were wrong,” she whispered. “We need to leave.”

September, 1918

seven

A

RTHUR WAS WELL AWARE OF WHAT HAPPENED WHEN

SOMEONE DROPPED TO THE END OF A ROPE AND DID NOT

TWITCH. There was no slow suffocating death, no chok-

ing out of life. No chance to save her.