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Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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  12. A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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  20. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  21. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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  29. I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
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  31. Nance O’Neil
  32. THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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  37. AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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  43. THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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  46. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  53. BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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  55. CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
  56. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  57. •   •   •
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  62. HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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  67. A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
  68. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  69. •   •   •
  70. •   •   •
  71. Nance O’Neil
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  84. Emma L. Borden
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  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  93. RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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  101. Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
  102. Emma L. Borden
  103. •   •   •
  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
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  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
  138. •   •   •
  139. Emma L. Borden
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  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  150. Emma L. Borden
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  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  176. Emma L. Borden
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  186. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  197. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  205. Inspector Simon Wolf
  206. •   •   •

I didn’t tell him about the breathing trouble. I had planned to, but when he got to the part about how it’s a symptom of the later stages of tetanus poisoning . . . I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. He could be wrong. We’re all throwing stones in the dark, after all.

Tetanus. So logical. So down-to-earth, quite literally. It cannot be that easy. If it were that easy, science would’ve saved us by now. There is some dark agency at work, and we would pretend otherwise at our peril.

•   •   •

I couldn’t bear the futility of it all. That’s why I told him that all was as before, and she needed no attention from him.

In short, I’m a coward who lies to herself.

•   •   •

And now, the rest.

The bit I’ve written around, and struggled to keep from writing.

It happened long after Seabury left. After supper, after bedtime. After Emma had been tucked in and Nance was sleeping, or doing a fair impersonation of sleeping; I don’t know.

As for me, I was sleeping on the chaise in Nance’s room. I wanted to be near her if she needed me. I wanted to know if anything changed, even if it changed for the worse. If anything changed, if anything happened . . . or let me be honest with myself, just this once: If she were to die, at least I would know.

(I grow more fatalistic by the day.)

•   •   •

Somehow, I fell asleep. I say “somehow” because it’s never come easy to me, I don’t think; I’ve always slept lightly, especially since Emma has required a caretaker. It’s as if I stay just barely unconscious, suspended just beneath the surface, so I can listen for any calls, cries, or bells that might summon me; and if I let myself fall too deeply, I might not be able to come when I’m needed.

And the matter of the creatures, of the madness, of the Problem (as Seabury put it) has only made things worse. And so has Nance’s treachery, for it fulfilled the worst of these nightmare fears.

But somehow, I slept.

It was pure exhaustion, I suppose. I could only brace myself against it for so long, and the recent weeks had taken a toll too great for me to withstand. So there, on the chaise, I closed my eyes. At least this time it wasn’t Nance’s treachery, but treachery from my own body that put me under so soundly. Unless there are worse forces at work than Mrs. Winslow and her numbing tinctures.

Regardless, I did not hear Nance rise.