“Mm,” she said. “You were also murdered by Adam on your wedding night! Such drama. Victor was committed to an asylum for some time after, so great was his mourning.”

“That insufferable ass,” I hissed.

Mary laughed. “He certainly has a flair for talking about himself. And so many descriptions of mountains! He is quite enamored of their grandeur.”

“You should burn his journals.”

“That is your solution to everything, not mine. I have also been studying his work. He is insane, and a murderer, but his mind…” She trailed off, something like admiration on her face. Then she shook her head as though physically pushing the thought away. “If it makes you feel any better, I understand how you could have thought so highly of him and been blind to his true nature. His mind truly is remarkable.”

I sighed. “It was not his mind I loved. It was his esteem for me. He valued me when no one else did. And I thought it made me special, that he loved only me. I should have realized that his inability to love anyone else just meant something was wrong with him.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, you sweet, sad thing,” Mary said brightly. “I think you are special. And I love a lot of people. Well. I love some people….” She paused. “At least two people. I definitely love two people. As long as you count Adam as a person, which we do.”

I laughed, hugging her awkwardly around her massive furs. “Hurry back.”

She kissed my cheek, then attached her snowshoes. I braced myself as she opened the door. The wind flung it inward, blowing in snow and lowering the temperature dramatically. Mary was bent nearly horizontal as she pushed out and fought against the wind to walk on top of the snow. I wrestled the door shut, barring it with relief and feeding the stove.

That afternoon, with the soft, cold sunlight and the warm stove, waiting for my friends to return, I decided: We would not let Victor dictate our lives anymore. We had run. We had waited. We would settle and let him find us or remain forever a mystery. I did not mind where we ended up, so long as I had my little family of three.

—

Mary’s desperate knock on the door sounded. I rushed up from the nap I had fallen into and unbarred the door. It flew open with even more force than normal, knocking me to the floor.

“Close it!” I shouted, lifting my arm to cover my eyes from the snow blowing in and the glare of the sun blinding me.

The door shut, and I lowered my arm to find Victor looming over me.

“Hello, my wife.”