Mary stamped her foot, desperate to make them understand. “I know that she wouldn’t have stood outside his door while he cried at night! I know she loved the outdoors and wouldn’t have wanted Colin to be shut up inside and told he has a hump on his back when he has none! Can’t you see what you’re doing? This house has become a prison—for both of you!”

Her uncle gazed at her for a long moment and then strode away.

“I’m sorry, sir. She leaves tomorrow,” Mrs. Medlock called after him desperately.

“Good!” Mr. Craven snapped, without glancing back.

Mary was marched to her room by Mrs. Medlock and pushed roughly inside. Forgetting the vow she had made all those months ago to never cry again, she wore herself out with sobbing. She didn’t think she could bear to be sent away to school, to leave her friends and the secret garden.

She cried herself to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night. As she opened her eyes, everything came flooding back and a steely determination filled her. They could try to send her away if they wanted, but they’d have to find her first!

She left her bedroom and began to creep downstairs. Her uncle’s study door was open. There was a light shining out. Mary stole a quick look inside. Archibald was sitting in a leather chair at a table beside the window. On the table was a bottle of whiskey and in one hand he had a half-filled glass. In the other, he held a framed photograph. It was the one she had seen in his study before. Aunt Grace was in the front of the picture. She was sitting on the grass and Colin was looking over her shoulder, his little arms around her neck. They were both smiling at the person holding the camera.

Mary saw her uncle dash his hand across his face. “What have I done?” he muttered. “Oh, Grace, what have I done?”

She swallowed and was about to creep past when there was a fizzle and the lights suddenly went out. Mary froze and waited for her eyes to adjust. Using the light from the moon, her uncle fumbled with a candle and some matches. He burned his hand as he tried to light it and exclaimed angrily as the match went out. He tried again, striking another match and then throwing it down when it burned out. Desperately hoping she wouldn’t trip over anything or bump into anything, Mary hurried past and ran down the main staircase. She grabbed her warmest coat and boots from the cloakroom and then scurried out through the back door. As the cold night air hit her face, she felt both relieved and scared. She’d done it! She’d escaped!