That night, Rosalie barely slept.
The Ashford house stood less than fifteen miles away.
Beneath the floor of her mother’s old sewing room was something Eleanor had hidden from her husband.
Something connected to Gideon’s deafness.
Something connected to Dr. Bell.
And Rosalie intended to find it.
They went the following afternoon.
Her father was not home.
Merrick answered the door.
His surprise quickly became suspicion.
“What do you want?”
“Mother’s sewing box.”
“You came all this way for thread?”
“Yes.”
Merrick glanced toward Gideon.
Rosalie held his gaze.
Finally, he stepped aside.
The house felt smaller than Rosalie remembered.
Colder too.
She walked upstairs.
Her mother’s sewing room had remained mostly untouched.
A faded quilt frame stood against the wall. Dust covered the window ledge.
