Beth
Ihold Sadie close to me as I watch the police officers caution Nina and arrest her.
My poor, damaged friend, Nina.
Nina isn’t Markus’s daughter. She’s the local doctor’s daughter.
I can hardly believe it. And yet . . . I glance from Nina’s slim frame to Zach’s, then from Zach’s fine dark hair to Nina’s.
Although her half brother must be a good few years younger than she is, the genetic link between them seems suddenly, glaringly clear.
Finally, after thirty years, the bizarre rules of Nina’s childhood begin to make sense.
Leonora kept Nina hidden, not just from the village doctor himself, but from anyone local who knew him, who might have put two and two together.
Nina looked nothing like Markus, and all it would take would be one nosy neighbor to remark on her similarity to Dr. Everett or his son, and the secret might escape .
. . And what if that secret found its way to Hendrik?
There was no love lost between Leonora and Hendrik.
I’d seen that right from Hendrik’s first visit.
Would Hendrik have allowed Markus to continue living at Raven Hall with Leonora and Nina for as long as he did if he’d known the truth?
Would he have been happy with the idea of Nina eventually inheriting the house? I think not.
It’s entirely inappropriate, but I feel a sudden urge to laugh. Anyone else in Leonora’s position, wanting to hide the paternity of their baby, would have had an easy option: they’d have moved away from where the father lived. But Leonora’s obsession with Raven Hall made that solution impossible.
Then my anger returns. It was one thing for Leonora to hide Nina away from her biological father and the other locals, quite another for her to scour children’s homes for a more convincing granddaughter for Hendrik.
Whatever terrible things Nina has done here tonight, the ultimate blame lies with Leonora; of that, I’m certain.
Perhaps Nina catches a flash of sympathy in my eyes, because she calls out to me suddenly.
“My mother always loved this house more than she loved me; you know that, don’t you?” She suddenly looks desperately sorry for herself. “I’m not obsessed with Raven Hall like them. All I wanted was a tiny bit of justice.”
I say nothing in reply. My mind is still reeling. She tried to kill my daughter this evening. But she used to be my best friend—how will I ever come to terms with this?
As the officers lead Nina toward the door, she looks over her shoulder and locks her gaze on mine.
“I just hope the fire did enough damage,” she says bitterly. “I hope they have to tear this whole place down.”
And then she’s gone, led out to an ambulance that spills blue light over the gravel driveway. I’m glad, of course, that she’s been taken into custody. But I can’t help agreeing with her final words. I, too, hope they tear this whole place down.