“I hope you haven’t done something stupid William. I don’t believe you know what you’re playing with.”

He allowed himself the hint of a smile as he said, “Oh, I think I do. My question is, do you?”

69

This whole cat and mouse game annoyed Nem more than she would expect. She decided the second she had the diary it was bye bye, William Barnes. How he’d figured out to bring her here, puzzled her for a moment before she realized he had foolishly decided this might spark something in her.

She laughed to herself. Good try. What did she care what he thought? He was no more a challenge than a mouse to a snake. The book had been passed down through multiple generations of her family. What did he think he could do?

She hadn’t visited her mother’s grave in a very long time though, so she took a moment to think about all these years she’d been gone, leaving Nem to fend for herself. She still hadn’t decided if she blamed her mother or not for what had happened.

Sometimes the anger would bubble up when she considered what she speculated was the woman’s selfishness in not preparing her young daughter for her inheritance. She even wondered why she wouldn’t have protected her life at all costs, so she could be there for Nem.

On other occasions, she felt a deep, unrelenting despair. She even experienced moments of profound regret, but something heavy and thick wiped those away.

A darkness had seeped into her core and colored her world to an oddly crystal-clear sharpness, and she welcomed that clarity. The cool calmness made her feel untouchable. She enjoyed the sense of invulnerability and had grown comfortable with the hue of her life.

She looked across her mother’s grave at the thorn which she should have picked from the stem and crushed long before now. Her one thought: You are about to be very, very sorry.

70

Her fading smile encouraged William’s confidence even though the whipping rain now lashed him as if the elements were not on his side. He shivered but refused to wrap his arms about himself to maintain his inner warmth.

“Do I know what I’m doing?” she said, tilting her head as if she’d misheard him. She hunched her shoulders in an exaggerated movement. “Of course I do. Haven’t you realized?”

“Realized what?”

“Once you write in the diary, there’s no taking it back. It will happen. You’ll be arrested for Morris’ murder and enjoy years to consider the mistake you’ve made.”

“Unlike the man who killed your mom.”

“Unlike anyone who’s dared to do wrong like that. Violence begs violence.”

As if on cue, so his words could be heard, the heavy rain stopped as suddenly as it had started. The dark clouds still hunkered over them, but a gap expanded allowing a shimmer of moonlight to shine through. The glow lit them and the grave between the two enemies. This break would not last long; wind threatened to blow more storm their way.