Over all the long years to come, Colleen would often look back on the moment she had decided, looking for reasons, for the truth. Hours spent awake as dawn stained the net curtains yellow. Every time she took Heather to the park and watched little kids playing on the slides or pushing each other into the dirt—always the question was hanging over her. But the truth was that when she bent down and plucked the little boy from his crib, she wasn’t thinking at all. Her mind was a terrifying blank, all comfort and hope blasted from it in one searing moment.

She carried him back down the hall and gave him to the monsters.

CHAPTER

45

OUTSIDE THE SKY had changed color. The inky darkness of the middle of the night had gone, to be replaced with a kind of dark silvery mauve. Heather looked at it for a moment, confused. How long had it taken her to run through the woods? How long had she been in the house? It seemed only minutes ago that she had found Harry’s body in the cottage, and now dawn was edging over the horizon.

As she rounded the base of the Folly, looking for a way in, she spotted an old-fashioned car parked up on the far side, with two figures standing next to it. One of them raised its hand to its eyes, clearly peering at her with interest. A voice she recognized floated toward her.

“Lyle!”

Heather nodded and waved, and began to jog over to them. It was Lillian, and the woman she had caught outside the cottage, her sister. Now that they stood next to each other, it was clear she was a few years older than Lillian, or had had a rougher life. Lillian was wearing a long camel hair coat, the collar turned up, and her gray hair was whipped by the wind, while the other still wore the heavy parker. It was Lillian who stepped forward, a wide grin splitting her face.

“Did you catch her, Lyle? Did you kill her?”

Heather, who was still in the deeper shadow of the Folly, turned her face away and down, keen that they should not recognize her until the very last moment. Lillian though, seemed unconcerned, stepping toward her with her arms open.

“Little wolf, your father will be so pleased.”

Heather grabbed the older woman by the shoulders and slammed her backwards into the car. She squawked like a chicken, while her sister shouted something Heather didn’t catch.

“Who are you?” Heather brought the lethal little knife up to Lillian’s throat and pressed it there. When the other woman moved, she shook her head. “Another step and she’s dead. I bloody promise you.”

“Calm down, Heather, dear,” said Lillian. She cleared her throat. “We’re old friends of your father. You know who that is now, don’t you?”

“Why? All that stuff with the house, the funeral. You wanted me to come up here. Why?”

“A little family reunion.” Lillian grimaced. “We thought Lyle should know about his sister.”