This could not be the end. We had lost Vincent. We could not lose Theo. God would not be so cruel. I willed myself to believe in deliverance.

The doctor and I were far down the hallway by the time I gathered myself enough to ask, “When will he recover?”

My soul trembled as I waited for the answer.

Chapter Nineteen

Emsley

Bram Dekker, the younger, called me the day after Violet’s funeral. “Care to tell me why you and my grandfather assaulted Senator Wertheim at the cemetery?”

I’d only picked up the phone because I thought he might be calling about a legal matter. And because I’d been crying over Violet and needed to stop, needed to be distracted from the hollow cave of pain in my chest. I was alone in the house. My parents had gone home to Hartford. I’d suggested that they stay for a few days, but Mom couldn’t deal with the stairs and definitely couldn’t handle staying in a house with a chicken.

“A terrible accident,” I told Bram, petting Lai Fa on my lap. We were working in Violet’s study. “I never have time for the gym anymore. I have no arm muscles. Is your grandfather all right?”

The way Bram Sr. had dropped, he could have broken a knee.

“He’s fine. He claims he felt faint.”

“Low blood pressure.”

“Was it? I’m thinking coordinated attack.”

“When would we have coordinated?”

“Good question.”

“Do you know how the senator is?”

“You haven’t seen the papers?”

I opened a new window on my laptop and googled the Times.

My grandmother’s funeral hadn’t made the cover, but it made the society pages. With a picture. “Taylor Wertheim, former senator, rescued from Violet Velar’s grave. ‘Intoxicated,’ says anonymous source.” I cleared my throat. “Who would call the paper with an allegation like that? People are mean.”

Exasperated silence on Bram’s end. Then, after several seconds, he asked, “Did the band play the theme song to The Benny Hill Show?”

“‘Beer Barrel Polka.’”

“I would ask how you even know ‘Beer Barrel Polka,’ but I have a dozen more important questions.”

I liked talking to him, and I shouldn’t have. I refused to miss our nascent friendship. He wasn’t the man I’d thought he was. There was nothing there.

“I’d love to take you out for coffee,” he said.

“Thank you, but I’m drowning in work.”

“All right.” He didn’t push, which I appreciated. “Let me know if you end up needing a criminal lawyer.”

I only smiled because he couldn’t see me. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You might want to look up assault and battery, or even attempted murder.”

“As I said, an unfortunate accident.”