Helena stared at him as though she loathed him, and after a moment of contemplation, she leaned back into the door so it swung open. “Very well.” She cut Caro a look. “Get your things and then get out. The devil will take care of you.”

“Did you just make a threat to Miss Caroline’s person in front of a police officer, Ms. Mordue?” Patrick asked.

She shrugged. “A warning.”

He stepped toward her, his expression cool, unyielding. “Funny, it sounded like a threat to me. That’ll be going in my report.”

He brushed past Roane to step into the house, and Roane gestured to us to follow. Caro let go of my hand, and I was so proud of her as she walked past her aunt, ignoring the way the woman stared at her as if she were the serpent in the Garden of Eden. As for me, my skin crawled as I moved past her. I’d forever associate the smell of rosewater with this woman. It was unnerving how normal she seemed for someone who had no soul. Of course, normal went out the window when she started threatening people with the devil. There was nothing I detested more than people who twisted religion to suit their agenda.

The front door led into a large hallway big enough to fit a reading area. There was a doorway on either side of us, and a doorway behind the reading nook.

“Take Caro to get her things.” Roane gestured to the door behind the reading nook.

I nodded to Caro to show me the way, concerned by her paleness. Despite her obvious distress, she kept her chin held high as she led me to the dark wooden door. “Watch your step,” she murmured as she opened it.

Three small stairs led down into a dark corridor. From the outside the cottage was cute, but inside . . . I shuddered. It was gloomy, dreary, and did not have a good vibe. That pang echoed in my chest again at the thought of Caro spending most of her life here. She turned right and led me to a door at the end of the hall.

Her room was surprisingly bright. A large wooden-framed window allowed a lot of light in despite the surrounding trees outside. The walls were covered in old-fashioned ivory wallpaper with little blue birds all over it. There was a white Shaker-style bedside cabinet to match the dresser, armoire, and single bed.

The floorboards were old and a little warped.

It was a pretty room in the summer, but I could only guess at how cold it was during the winter.

Caro opened a cupboard door on the wall opposite the window and pulled out an old leather suitcase.

“What can I do?” I asked.

She blinked rapidly as if she’d forgotten I was there. “I can manage. I’m not taking much.”