Chapter 67
SIXTY-SEVEN
Keswick
Quinn opened her eyes and blinked in confusion.
The vision had ended so abruptly that, for a moment, she wondered if she had dropped the earring.
Then she understood. Honor had walked out of the room wearing the amethyst earrings.
Geneva’s memories had reached their end, and the next chapter would unfold through Honor’s eyes once her memories had time to imprint.
The events of that night were a century old, yet Quinn saw them play out in real time, and the shift in perspective required Honor to wear the earrings for a while.
Not that Quinn could spare much thought for any of that now.
She was sick with worry about Max, and, as tempting as it was to escape into someone else’s mind for the sake of her sanity, she had to face the present head-on.
And a far more chilling realization had struck her: the woman in the well might be Honor, not Geneva.
They looked enough alike to make positive identification problematic.
Of course, she had no way of knowing when the victim had died, or whether Honor had ever returned the earrings to her sister.
But after years of witnessing strangers’ final moments, she could sense when a story was building towards a tragic conclusion.
One clue was the claddagh ring. Rory was due to leave on January the first, and it seemed unlikely that either Honor or Geneva had worn the ring after that, unless Rory had changed his mind and stayed, and something dramatic had occurred between them that had put him back in play with either sister.
Right now, none of that mattered. All Quinn cared about was Max.
She put the earring away and stepped into the lounge.
Gabe sat on the sofa with Mia curled on his lap, her head on his shoulder, clutching the teddy bear with its now slightly lopsided eyes.
Alex sat beside him, absorbed in a game on Gabe’s mobile.
Emma, headphones on, wore a faraway expression.
Quinn guessed she was listening to her music.
To a stranger, the tableau might have looked peaceful, almost domestic, but Quinn knew better.
They were all taut with fear, each processing the situation in their own way.
A wave of guilt washed over her. Leaving them, even briefly, had been selfish. Her children came first, and she needed to reassure them, to remind them, and Gabe, that she was here and would not falter.
Gabe patted the cushion beside him, and Quinn sat down, resting her head on his other shoulder. They stayed like that until, sometime later, a knock sounded at the door.