“It has to be. Because if it’s not … if people can love each other that much and still not be together because of things from before they even met, well, it would be too goddamn tragic.” His mouth twisted. “Alva said if people thought the dead could keep tormenting the living, even after they were gone, no one would be able to go on. Well, she was right.”

“Is it definitely over?”

“She says it is. And I need to start listening to what she says, instead of thinking I know all the answers.” He took another long swig, relishing the angry burn as the liquid ran down his throat.

“I always knew I was lucky,” he said quietly. “My parents, my family, you. The money. The intellect. I didn’t take it for granted, or at least I thought I didn’t. These last few weeks, though, I’ve realized exactly how lucky I am. Everything’s pretty much always worked out for me, and I guess I’m going to have to get used to the idea that this time it might not. It’s just … I’m not quite sure how to … how to stop loving her.”

“I don’t know that you can. I’m not even sure you should. It’s never a bad thing, love. It’s just hard when it’s not enough.”

Sam nodded and took another drink.

“You said it would be worth it,” Henry said. “Was it?”

“Yes,” Sam said without hesitation. But before he could continue, he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Sam’s breath caught wildly, but he ruthlessly dampened his enthusiasm. It was probably only a neighbor, come to peek at the laboratory as they apparently liked to do.

Seconds later, Sally May appeared in the doorway, with a red-faced Liza behind her. “Begging your pardon, sirs”—here Sally May stopped to look appreciatively at Henry—“but here’s Liza Mackey from Mrs. Webster’s house, come to see you urgently.”

“Liza?” Sam stood, frowning. “What’s wrong? Is Mrs. Webster all right?”

“Oh, Professor Moore, I tried to talk her out of it, really I did, I reminded her of the last time, and it’s not like I haven’t told her time and again there’s something wrong at that house, although this time you’d think she’d listen, since she’s seen it for her own self, but no, she wouldn’t hear me, and nothing would do but to head off to the house by herself—”

“Liefdehuis?” The icy clutch of fear squeezed his heart. “She’s gone to Liefdehuis, alone?”

“And she looked ever so strange, when she went, and all she would say was that it was time she finished things—”

Sam swore roundly and pushed past the two girls to head for the stables. He already had the saddle on the horse by the time Henry caught up with him.