“She wanted me to reveal the Thraxton family secrets if anything happened to her,” Ursula said. “She wanted the truth to come out. But I can’t. It’s buried too deep, and I was involved in burying some of it. Teddy . . .” A sob rippled through her chest, but she stifled it. “Poor Teddy does not deserve this.”

“Let me help you home.”

She waved me away. “I’ve been doing this a long time, dear boy. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to see your father ever again.”

She passed me and made her way down the hall, supported by the wall, then down the stairs, leaning heavily on the bannister. I shook my head and went to my room. I sat on the bed for a minute to take off my shoes. It was only two in the afternoon—eight o’clock in Berlin—but I hadn’t slept on the flight, and I passed out.

I woke up an hour later, woolly headed and cotton mouthed. According to my watch, it was nine p.m., but the sun was streaming in through my window. It took me a minute to realize I’d forgotten to change it from Berlin time.

I put my shoes on and splashed some water on my face. No one seemed to be home, but I heard the television in Gloria’s room. I knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you, but where’s Teddy?”

“Ursula took him across the street to play with the trains,” Gloria said.

“Ah.” I didn’t want to have round two with my father just yet, but I wasn’t going to allow Teddy to be in his company for another minute. I hurried out the front door and across the street and rang the bell.

The disapproving butler answered.

“I’m here to pick up my son.”

“He isn’t here.”

“He came over with Ursula.”

The butler shook his head. “She’s not home.”

I was ready to push past him, but he seemed as surprised as I was.

“She said she was going to your house,” he added.

“She came over, but now she’s gone,” I said, panic rising inside me. “They’re both gone.”

CHAPTER 43 DEIRDRE

CHAPTER 43

DEIRDRE

I was lying in a strange bed, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Everything in my line of sight was wobbly, as if I was underwater and staring at ripples on the surface. As my brain shook me awake, the waters parted and my vision cleared.

There was a man in a white coat who didn’t look any older than me. He had a scraggly neck-beard and a notable underbite. “It’s alive,” he said, like I was Frankenstein’s monster stirring under a tarp.

I promised myself the first thing I’d do, when I was sure I wasn’t dead, was drop-kick this jerk. “Where am I?” I croaked.