“I’m not sure. You can try. I think he’s sorry for the way he treated you yesterday. He can’t remember much of what happened, but he knows he hurt you. He gave me something in an envelope to give to you—I think it’s an apology.”
Lillie climbed from the bed and rummaged through her bag. “Oh, blast. In my rush to pack, I must have left it at home.”
“Will we have to climb into your bedroom window from the tree like we used to in order to retrieve it?”
“I’d like to see you try. But I already need to return home tomorrow as it is. I didn’t bring my gown for the president’s dinner, so when I go home to dress, I’ll find it.”
“The president’s dinner…” Grace said, trailing off. She bit her lip. Her heart lifted like sprays of dark butterflies when she thought of arriving there on Theodore’s arm. And yet, she still hadn’t decided whether she was going to go.
Lillie wrote down the name of the hospital where Walt was staying. “Here,” she said. “You’re helping my brother. And I got a small chance to help yours in return.”
Grace took the slip of paper from Lillie, feeling awash with gratitude. She fell asleep holding her cousin’s hand, wondering if perhaps something good might finally come out of the World’s Fair, after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MAY 13, 1904
Ten Days After the Murder
IN THE MORNING, Grace stared up at the face of the St. Louis Sisters Hospital. It was an impressive building with white columns that stretched three stories tall and was flanked by mature oak trees.
“I don’t know if they’ll let you see him,” Lillie had warned that morning as they parted for the day. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” But Grace had come anyway. She strode through the doors and approached the front desk, explaining that her brother had been brought in for treatment and she needed to see him.
The nurse looked him up in the files.
“He’s in detoxification,” she said curtly. “Visitors are not typically permitted at this time.”
“Could you please ask?” Grace said.
The nurse didn’t glance up. “It might be a while,” she said.
“That’s fine,” Grace said, staring at the top of the woman’s small white hat. “I’ll wait.”
She took a seat in the waiting room. She would wait as long as it took. And once she had seen Walt, she would find a way to call her mother and tell her what happened.
She played nervously with her handbag and glanced around the waiting room, taking in the wallpapered walls and tile floor. There were newspapers on the coffee table. A man was smoking a cigarette.
Eventually he extinguished it in a crystal ashtray and was called back to visit someone. For awhile, Grace was alone, and she sat for roughly half an hour before someone else joined her.
It was two visitors, actually. Two women who appeared to be around thirty years old and looked suspiciously like they could be twins.
They spoke to the nurse and then took a seat near Grace. One of them had a hole in her stocking that she kept touching subconsciously. Grace stole glances at them and then went to check in with the nurse again.
“The doctor is very busy today,” the nurse said. “Perhaps you should come back tomorrow.”
“No,” Grace said firmly. “I’ll wait.”
When she returned to her seat, the two women were twittering on about something to do with the upholstery and then mushroom stew and she was ignoring them quite successfully until she heard the word strychnine.
Her ears pricked. She instantly looked up.
They were talking between themselves, though not particularly quietly. “Strychnine is for rat poison,” one of them was saying. “Not people. And he took itvoluntarily.”
Grace’s interest piqued. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to pry. It’s just—did you say something about strychnine?”
“Our idiot brother.”
“Victoria!”
