Wren still couldn’t fathom that he had simply left. According to the newspapers, his life was perfect. He was the shoo-in candidate for grand magistrate. Wren had seen the few photos of him and his father on the front page, fuzzy and indistinct in the glare of the Vesrian sun. Hal, haughtily frowning at the camera. His father, hand on his shoulder, beaming with pride.

He had everything she’d ever wanted—a family, respect, adoration. Yet he had walked away from all of it.

“I found little at the Guiding Light. Shipment records to Colwick Hall—but nothing that identified the contents.” He paused. “And here, only rumors. Everyone has a tragic story about a friend succumbing to disease. They also told me of Lowry’s increasingly strange behavior.”

“Like what?”

“Disappearing at odd hours and taking copies of the keys from the housekeeper. Barring off access to the east wing. Declining visits from friends. Strange stains on his clothes.”

“Did you hear why he closed down the east wing?”

“Apparently, several servants were summoned there and never returned. The staff was informed it was due to an accident. I believe he said a staircase collapsed.”

Lowry had told her the same thing. How could she have been so naïve, so desperate, as to believe him on that first night? “And did you go in?”

“No. Before I could, I fell ill. Given the circumstances, I have to believe I was close to an answer.”

“And what’s that?” Dread gripped her, as cold as liquid helium. “What do you suspect?”

For the first time in days, Hal held her gaze. “I suspect Alistair Lowry is responsible for the abduction and murder of six people.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Wren couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t focus. The room swam with hazy light as if she looked at it from the bottom of a lake. I suspect Alistair Lowry is responsible for the abduction and murder of six people. After something like that, how could the world continue to spin neatly on its axis? Everything in her railed against the theory, even though she’d come to suspect it herself.

In no universe did it make sense that Lowry would poison Hal and then request her services. It would be nothing but wasted, pointless effort.

And yet, here they were.

Maybe Lowry never wanted her to cure Hal at all. Maybe it was a ruse to lure her here—and an incentive to detain her. But if he just needed me to fritter away my time, why not use someone less recognizable than Hal as a fake patient? And if it were purely for revenge against Vesria, why not kill him immediately? She could not piece together a motive.

All the same, Hal’s accusation was a strange relief. It was confirmation at last that she hadn’t gone mad or succumbed to paranoia. Something was undeniably rotten in Colwick Hall.