Chapter 10
Miss Molloy had spent days trying to shake the gnawing feeling that Alice had withheld something from her before she left Pastoria House for holiday. But ignoring instincts had never been her way. So, she returned.
A thick layer of snow covered the steps—snow that should have been cleared by now.
“Hello? Abigail?” Molloy called into the lobby. The air inside was frigid. “Is anyone here?” Down the administrative hallway, Molloy’s office door stood open. Molloy frowned. What could Abigail have needed in there?
As she stepped inside, her stomach dropped. Her desk drawers had been yanked open, their contents dumped out. Scattered across the surface were Alice and Wendolyn’s files. Molloy’s pulse pounded in her throat. After all the precautions… had someone found Alice?
Molloy spun and tore down the hallway, nearly skidding into the stairwell railing as she raced to the residence floor.
“Alice!” she screamed.
At the end of the hall, Alice’s door was ajar. Inside, nothing remained. Molloy’s breath came in heavy gasps, but she didn’t stop. She bolted down the hall toward the East Wing. Wendy’s room had been emptied, too. She tore downstairs and flung open Abigail’s office door.
Ransacked.
The contents of the bottom cupboards were strewn across the floor, and the air carried something foul. A buzzing filled her ears—a fly, or a gnat. Molloy clamped a hand over her mouth and stepped toward the putrid stench. It seeped from the cabinets. Dread stabbed her ribs.
Slowly, she pulled open the doors—and stumbled back, gagging. She gripped the edge of Abigail’s desk to steady herself. The cabinets had been filled.
Abigail Marker’s bloated body was twisted to fit inside, limbs contorted unnaturally. Blood had pooled and dried from a wound somewhere in her neatly pinned bun. Her neck was bent at an impossible angle. Snapped.
Molloy choked on a sob and staggered backward.
Where was Alice?