Barnabus took it up like a starving man, not knowing if it contained anything of substance. He tore it open and read ravenously.

Doc,

I didn’t know who else to send word to. The man you helped me escape—there’s whispers he’s meaning to do something soon. He’s found someone that’s giving him grief, and he’s snuffing out whoever it is. I’m worried it might be you or one of ’em that helped me. Or it might be me.

The woman here says I can move to a different safe house since my little’ns and I don’t feel safe. No one should feel safe. He smells blood, Doc. He has to be stopped.

Please don’t let him find out I know. Please. He’ll kill me and my children. I know he will.

—S

He didn’t have to think long to piece it all together. Serena had heard the Mastiff was on the hunt. She was afraid, just as she should be. But was the person the Mastiff meant to “snuff” Serena herself? One of her children? Someone unknown to Barnabus?

Gemma?

Not willing to risk the letter being seen and read by someone who ought not to, he tore it in pieces, then tossed them into the low-burning embers of the sitting room’s fireplace and watched the fragments turn to ash.

Mrs. Simms approached with a single piece of toast and a teacup. “You need rest Doc. You need to eat.”

He shook his head. “Gemma’s in danger. I can’t stop looking.”

“And how do you mean to look if you’re collapsed in a heap on account of having exhausted yourself?”

A wave of defeat rushed over him. “I can’t bear to lose her again. I can’t.”

She patted his cheek, though the gesture felt motherly rather than condescending. “I’ll lock up here. You go search a bit, see if you can’t discover something.”

“Thank you.” He snatched up his hat and his bag—he never went anywhere without it—and reached for the door. “Promise me you’ll take every precaution. Don’t answer the door to anyone.”

“If you make me a promise,” Mrs. Simms said. “Swear to me you’ll have a full and filling meal and then sleep tonight.”

He smiled, though he knew the weakness of his expression gave away just how much he’d been neglecting himself. “I will.”

She motioned him out the door. He slipped out. Before stepping away, he checked the fastness of the sign he’d hung directing patients to another man of medicine in the area, then the security of the bolt he’d slid into place with his key. Satisfied, he set his feet onto the pavement.