“It’s me, Scarlett, one of the hatmakers,” I said. “Don’t be scared. I’m not here to hurt you.”

She put her hand on her heart and took several deep breaths.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

She nodded. She glanced at the main door, which was still shut. “How did you get in here?”

“The tunnel,” I said.

“But I locked that door,” she said.

“There are ways around that,” I said. I decided to remain vague and see what she said.

“Credit card?” She nodded. “I did the same. I used to lose the keys to my flat all the time. It’s a handy skill to have.”

I had to agree.

“Sunny, why are you hiding in here?” I asked. “Isn’t it . . .”

“Creepy to be in the room where he died?” she asked.

I nodded. I rose from my crouch and sat on the edge of a nearby chair.

“I feel closer to him when I’m here,” she said. Her face crumpled and she sobbed. “This is all such a nightmare.” She put a hand protectively on her belly.

“Sunny, is it true? Are you having Dooney’s child?” I asked.

She hesitated. It was clear she didn’t want to answer, but then she sighed and nodded. A tear spilled down over her cheek.

“I don’t know how to ask my next question,” I said.

“You want to know if I killed him because he was marrying Piper?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I said.

She shook her head. “No, I loved him. I could never have harmed him. He’s the father of my child.”

“Have you spoken to Detective Stewart?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been avoiding him. I know he thinks I did it. I’d think I did it, too, but I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.” She paused and took a deep breath. “That’s the other reason I’ve been hiding out in here when I’m not wandering the castle grounds, ducking the detective. While the officers were searching the library, I listened in on their conversations through the tunnel door to hear what they knew.”

“That was a huge risk if you were discovered,” I said.

“They make a lot of noise when they enter the library. Plenty of time for me to go hide in the tunnel.” She shrugged. “Besides, judging by the lack of evidence found so far, the police can’t prove anything. And really, what do I have to lose? I didn’t murder Dooney and I have no idea how I’m going to prove that.”

“I believe you,” I said. I had no idea why I said that. I had no proof. She was the perfect suspect—she had motive and opportunity. I wasn’t sure about means since the detective hadn’t told us what exactly had killed Dooney. Still, there was no reason to think that she was innocent.