I curled deeper into my temporary burrow, hollower than the tree and less capable of providing shelter. I would wait for Victor’s letter.

I had no other choice.

—

Justine caught me staring out a window at the evening landscape. I had been watching it since Monsieur Clerval left and we had finally dared to come back inside. Whether I was waiting for something, or fearful that if I looked away, I would miss some vital threat, I could not say.

“Where are you?” she asked, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I sighed. “In the past.”

She led me to the sofa and sat us down, so close that our legs touched. “I thought you would be happy. You did what you set out to do!”

I offered her the best smile I could manage. Soon I would have to go dine with Judge Frankenstein. I needed to get back to pretending. “You are right. I am afraid the trip was more exhausting than I had realized. I am not quite recovered yet.”

“Thank goodness we will never have to do that again! All those decisions. I was frightened the whole time.”

“Me too,” I lied. “I suppose, returning home, I miss Victor all the more. And Henry, too. I am sorry he left for England without the blessing of his father.” Justine had not seen Monsieur Clerval, and I did not mention his visit, or the papers he had left for Judge Frankenstein, though those things contributed to my lack of ease. No wonder Judge Frankenstein had wanted to excise me from their expenses. He had debts, apparently. What if I had secured Victor, only for him to be rendered a pauper?

I did not think that would happen. Wealth like his family’s had a way of replenishing itself. And Victor was a genius. He would take care of me.

Justine clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Men are always doing things without thinking of how they will affect others. It is a woman’s heart that is big enough to hold another’s feelings. We will miss Henry, but we will be fine.”

“I always imagined him as some part of our lives forever. Our friend. Even your husband.” Or my own. I had not anticipated him leaving us behind entirely. If I had, would I have acted differently?

Justine laughed. “Oh, I could never marry Henry!”

I turned to look at her. “Then you are not upset? I had wondered if maybe you would feel it a lost opportunity.”

“Goodness, no. I never want to marry. I want to stay here and raise dear William and Ernest. And I want to take care of your children.”

My children. What a horrible thought. “But then you would never have children of your own!”

Justine nodded, her face clouding with sadness. “I do not want them.”

“Surely no one has ever been more capable of being a loving mother.”

“My mother was loving.”