Leonora watches Markus and.
Leonora watches Markus and Nina from the kitchen window. Mallets clacking, they’re playing croquet on the lawn, Nina shrieking indignantly every time Markus knocks one of her balls out of place. It’s a joyful, vicious game.
She glances at the clock; she wishes she could be as relaxed as they are.
It’s been three weeks since Stephanie’s phone call. “Sorry, Leonora. I thought I should let you know. I’ve just taken a booking for a Mr. Hendrik Meyer for next month, and his secretary said she was booking an appointment with the local estate agent too . . .”
At first, Leonora had felt hopeless. This was it: Hendrik was coming back to put an end to all her dreams. He’d sell the house, throw them out .
. . Markus tried to reassure her, but she had to face the truth: their chances of persuading Hendrik to let them stay at Raven Hall were virtually nil.
But then, Markus—her wonderful, kindhearted, clever Markus—had come up with a plan . . .
She glances at the clock again. Their guest will be here in a few minutes. She raps on the kitchen window to summon Markus and Nina in.
By the time the car draws up on the gravel, the three of them are lined up on the top step, and Leonora shoots a quick look at Markus over Nina’s head: Can they really pull this off? Are they making a mistake? Is it too late to change their minds?
The car door opens, and out steps the child, blond-haired, round-cheeked, her face a mask of self-protection that Leonora recognizes only too well: the face of a survivor, the face of an orphan.
Leonora’s heart squeezes with a painful mix of sympathy and terror.
This girl is their best chance—their only chance.
Leonora hurries down the steps to greet her.