Mary’s smile faded. “You said you’d take me to the seaside. You promised. You telt me, when we got out, you’d take me to the beach. I’ve still never been to the sea. You said you’d take me.”

Sara shifted forward in her seat, leaned in closer. “Mary, I’m not Esther. My name’s Sara. I live in the house you used to own.”

Mary’s hand dropped from her mouth into her lap. She stared hard at Sara, letting her gaze travel from her face down to her stomach, then she reached out, placed her hand on Sara’s belly. It rested there for a moment, a small hand like a child’s, then Mary looked back up into her eyes.

“No,” Mary said, withdrawing her hand. “It’s not you.”

“Who’s Esther?” Sara asked.

“My sister,” Mary said, her eyes growing distant, staring at some long-ago memory.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Aye, I did.” Mary nodded once, her eyes glistening. “I had a sister.”

“Where is she now?”

Mary turned her gaze back to the window. “She’s lost. I tried to reach her but I couldn’t. That’s why I should be at home, not here. So she can find her way back to me. But they say I can’t go back home.”

“Because of the fire,” Sara said.

“Aye. They say I started it. They say I can’t take care of my own self. But I lived there by my own self for sixty years, and I did all right. And I’ll tell you this, I didn’t start that fire. Some bad hoor did it in the middle of the night.”

“You think someone else started it?”

Mary leaned forward, the forefinger of her small hand jabbing each word home. “I don’t think it. I know it. It was the glass breaking that woke me. I mind lying there, listening. I thought one of the cats had maybe cowped something over and broke it. Then there was this thump, I felt it more than I heard it, and then there was a car engine started up and I heard it drive away. Then the cats screaming.”

Mary’s quivering hand went to her mouth, her eyes brimming.