Josey stood quietly by the bedside, the dim lamp casting a soft glow across the room. Mr. Larkin was asleep….

Josey stared at him for a long moment before whispering to herself, her voice low and cold.

“Faye must not know, right?” she said, looking down at him. “That her being alive at all is a crime.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “I don’t even know how she survived the fire. But if she did, she should have stayed tucked away in that orphanage where she belonged.”

Josey’s fingers brushed lightly against the edge of the duvet. “I think about how she tried so hard to get me to...