Chapter 2

My clothes were waiting in the downstairs hall when I got home.

Somebody had put my sweaters in a laundry basket. My books were stacked beside a trash bag. The framed photograph from our wedding lay facedown on top.

“Mr. Vale said Ms. Mercer needs the upstairs suite,” the housekeeper told me. “It gets the most light.”

Her eyes moved to my left hand and away again.

I set the photograph upright. In it, Nathan was looking at me instead of the camera. For years, I'd thought that meant something no one could take away.

“I'll need a suitcase,” I said.

The housekeeper looked surprised. She'd expected a fight.

I carried my books into the little downstairs guest room. There wasn't much to pack. Clothes, a few papers, a wooden box Elias had given me when I left the mountain. Most of what filled this house belonged to Nathan, even the things he'd called gifts.

The front door opened before I'd finished.

“I can't sleep in her old room,” Celia said. “You know how I am about other people's things.”

“I'll have it redone,” Nathan told her. “Whatever you want. Use the other guest suite tonight. Nobody's slept there.”

He'd said almost exactly that to me seven years ago, when I'd arrived with one duffel bag and no idea how to live anywhere without Elias.

Celia saw me in the doorway. She leaned closer to Nathan.

He looked at my suitcase.

“What's all this?”

“My things.”

“Don't start, Anna. Celia's been sick.”

“Then take her to a doctor.”

He frowned as if I'd said something cruel.

Celia had been in and out of our lives for years. Her mother had helped Nathan's family when his father died. He said looking after her was a debt. Lately, the debt required dinners, weekends, and a place in my bedroom.

Mara stood behind her, still as a stain on the wall.

“Wait,” Nathan said as I reached for my bag. “That thing you wear. You said it helps you sleep.”

My hand went to the small cloth packet beneath my shirt.

Elias had stitched it himself. Inside were knotted thread, folded paper, and a sliver of wood from the sanctuary's oldest door. It held Mara close to me and kept her anger from reaching anyone else. Without it against my skin, she could move beyond my shoulder. Nathan's betrayal had already weakened the binding. I didn't know how much longer the packet would contain her.

“Celia hasn't slept properly in weeks,” he continued. “Let her try it.”

“No.”

He stared at me.

“I've told you I can't take it off.”

“It's a little bag of weeds.”

“Then it won't help her.”

I wasn't fast enough when he reached for me. The cord snapped against the back of my neck.

For a second, the hall seemed to tilt. Mara was suddenly in front of me, close enough for me to see the dark thread at the hem of her dress.

She smiled.

Nathan held the packet out to Celia, who recoiled.

“She's been wearing it against her skin.”

He gave it to the housekeeper. “Clean the outside. Air it out. Bring it up when Ms. Mercer's ready.”

“Don't open it,” I said.

“Anna.” Nathan's voice sharpened. “Enough.”

My phone rang before I could answer.

Ruth, who brought groceries to the sanctuary, was crying so hard I could barely understand her.

“They've got machines up here. Anna, they're tearing it down. Elias tried to stop them.”

I was already moving when Nathan called my name.

I made it as far as the front steps.