Grace toyed with the glass he’d abandoned on the desk, and the only sound in the office was the scratch of chalk against slate.

“You do realize the danger your sister is in?”

The question was asked quietly, though the weight of it tore a hole through her heart.

“Yes,” Grace said, the single word spoken aloud more horrible than anything she’d ever heard in the asylum. “I had thought that when the temptation was removed he would no longer . . .” Her throat closed on her words, and the tears that filled her eyes drowned all thought.

She put her hands over her eyes, the sobs that she choked down racking her body. Cool fingers closed around her wrists and the doctor knelt in front of her. “Grace,” he said quietly. “The fault does not lie with you. It never did. You are not a temptation but simply a target for another’s black sin.”

“I wish it were not so,” she cried, tears flowing freely now. “If I had somehow invited his actions, made him feel . . . what he felt, then going away would bring it to an end. Alice would have nothing to fear, and no one need ever know.”

Thornhollow removed his hands from her own, fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief. When he spoke again his voice was matter-of-fact. “Has there been any indication in your letters that his actions have transferred to her?”

“No.” Grace shook her head, taking the offered handkerchief to dab her eyes. “Merely the beginnings, mirrored exactly as they were with me. She has some time yet.”

Thornhollow sighed heavily. “That’s a relief, at least.”

“Doctor,” Grace asked. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I simply do not know.”

But his eyes were on the blackboard.

TWENTY-FOUR

His indecision was replaced with action by nightfall. An urgent knocking at Grace’s door interrupted her dressing for bed, and Janey’s irritated countenance in the hallway did not bode well.

“Why he can’t just leave you alone for the time being, I don’t know. We can’t all keep that man’s hours.”

Grace twisted her hair into a simple knot as they descended the stairs together, the nurse’s steps still heavy with her anger. “I tell you, it’s not right, Grace. Sometimes I think he forgets that you’re a patient too, you know. He may need your assistance from time to time, but you need your sleep. A few more interruptions in your schedule and I may see fit to say so.”

Grace listened mildly as they crossed to the large front doors, which stood open, letting in the cold air. Thornhollow’s carriage waited outside, Ned at the ready.

Janey took off her own wrap, draping it over Grace’s shoulders with a frown still on her face. “I’m quite serious, Grace. You’re my charge as well as his, and if I think his activities are interfering with your best interests, I’ll speak up.”

Grace grasped the nurse’s hand in a flood of affection, squeezing to communicate her thanks. Janey looked at her, a sigh hitching deep in her chest. “You’d be devastated if I put a stop to it, though, wouldn’t you? Your eyes are brightest before you step into that carriage, Grace, though the darkest circles are on your face the next morning.”

Janey impulsively pulled her into a hug, and Grace’s back stiffened. “Sorry. I get too close to you girls for my own good. Go on, then,” she said, giving Grace a playful push out the door. “Go do your work.”

The nurse watched as the carriage clattered off into the night, shaking her head, arms close around herself for warmth. “Those two,” she muttered. “There are days I think we’ve incarcerated the wrong one.”

Grace’s question as to their destination died on her lips as she closed the carriage door behind her to find they were not alone.

“Mrs. Jacobs will be joining us,” Thornhollow said, arm wrapped around an awkwardly long package as they bumped their way across the river. “It’s not the usual activity that takes us out tonight, as you’ll see.”

“It’s dark, Doctor,” Mrs. Jacobs said, her face pressed directly against the glass. “My Mellie, she don’t like the dark. Cries something awful and calls for me in the night.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I can hear her. She’s thirsty.” Her hand joined her face against the glass, leaving a murky condensation trail behind it. “She needs a drink, Doctor. I can’t rest till she’s had it.”

“Of course not,” he said. “And no one would expect you to.”

Grace kept her eyes rooted on the grieving mother, whose mouth worked constantly, teeth tearing her lips to shreds. Tears leaked from her eyes, finding well-worn tracks within the wrinkles of her cheeks. If Janey had been upset about Grace’s health, she would’ve been apoplectic over Mrs. Jacobs. Her eyes were sunk so deeply they were only black pits in her face, and the circles under them were nearly as dark.

Grace nudged Thornhollow’s foot with her own, nodding toward the package he carried with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” he mouthed.

The carriage rocked to a halt and Ned opened the door with a lantern in hand, his face betraying no curiosity or irritation at the late hour or oddness of their destination. When Grace alighted from the carriage her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the headstones, row after row standing bleak and immovable in the dark, naked tree branches shifting wildly above them in the wind.

“Apologies,” Thornhollow said. “Perhaps it would’ve been best to warn you.” Grace shook her head, a blank mask back in place as she followed Ned, who seemed to know more about their duties that night than she did. They made their way to a freshly dug grave, the wind whipping Janey’s wrap around Grace’s shoulders as she hunched defensively against it.

“You’ve got to keep them out of the beds of your toenails,” Ned told her solemnly. “Once they’re under ’em, there’s no getting ’em out.”

Grace nodded as if she understood.

Thornhollow’s words carried on the wind, his voice so gentle she could hardly believe it was the same man who had yelled at her that morning.

“Come now, Margaret,” he was saying, hand outstretched. “She’s waiting.”

“Mellie?” The name, filled with hope, fluttered through the night, torn away by the wind.

Ned wordlessly took the oblong package from Thornhollow as they approached, the doctor still holding on to the widow’s arm to offer support. A sharp intake of breath came from the woman as she saw the fresh grave, and Grace moved to her other side to help keep her on her feet.

“They come and told me she was gone,” Mrs. Jacobs said, her eyes flat in the moonlight. “But I didn’t believe them. How can it be so when I still hear her calling for a drink?”

“You hear her now?” Thornhollow asked.

“Aye, Doctor,” she said, absently wiping at her face. “She’s thirsty down there. It’s the long sleep she’s gone to, and she’ll be needing a good drink if the Lord expects her to rest easy.”

“Then she shall have it.” With a nod from Thornhollow, Ned began to unwrap the package, while the doctor motioned for Grace to follow him into the deeper shadows of a vast maple.

“Despite what you may think, I didn’t spend the entire day drinking in my office. Mrs. Jacobs has refused rest as long as she can hear her daughter calling for her. Shortly after you and I had words this morning, I made a trip to town with specifications for an instrument to remedy that situation.”

Grace watched as Ned produced a long auger, taller than he was, alongside a slender reed. “And what is my role this evening, Doctor? You do not need my eyes or ears for this.”

“No,” he admitted. “I asked for you to come along so that you might have a full picture of myself, as a person. Today I said things that I shouldn’t have, and I apologize. Too often I forget that you are a patient as well as my protégé, and I spoke to you in a manner I would never take with someone under my care. I wish to regain your trust, and this is a first step toward earning that back, by showing you that I do care for others, though I often fail to show it.”