“It is exactly where she said it would be,” Matteo said.

Harrison looked at the key, then at his mother.

The panic in his eyes was unmistakable now.

The grand grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour, the deep sound vibrating through the floorboards.

Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the heavy wooden shutters of Aster Hall.

Beatrice did not look at the key; she kept her eyes fixed on my face.

“You are unwell, Vivian,” Beatrice said softly, almost kindly.

It was a chilling tone, far worse than her anger.

She turned her head slightly and caught Dr. Marren’s eye.

Dr. Marren nodded slowly, his hand reaching into his coat pocket.

He took a step out of the shadows and into the light of the room.

“I agree with Mrs. Ashford,” Dr. Marren said, his voice trembling slightly but rising to carry across the space.

“As your primary physician, Vivian, I must say your behavior tonight is highly concerning.”

“You are not my physician, Dr. Marren,” I said, my grip tightening on the letter. “Not anymore.”