“Everyone is looking at us,” Lillie whispered.
Grace clasped her cousin’s arm. She was painfully aware of the people whispering behind cupped hands, their eyes wandering toward Lillie, or toward Aunt Clove and Uncle Reginald. As the mourners sang the hymn “Abide with Me,” Grace saw Earnest and Theodore sitting together. Theodore gave her a short nod when their eyes met, and warmth instantly pooled through her.
She realized in that moment that she had never formally thanked him for the typewriter.
She continued to scan the crowd, her eyes falling on a woman inthe second pew who matched the description of Harriet’s roommate. Caroline Locke was scant and pale and had white-blonde hair that looked like fairy floss. She kept a pinched look on her face throughout the service, her eyes fixed on the hymnal in her lap, while Harriet’s father and her older sister Penelope wiped tears from their faces with handkerchiefs.
At the service’s conclusion, Grace followed the procession of the closed casket to the graveyard. She gave her condolences to Harriet’s family.
“I’m Grace,” she said. “I was a friend of Harriet’s.”
Penelope, Harriet’s sister, looked strikingly like Harriet. Her hair was darker, her eyes slightly closer to the bridge of her nose, but the physical similarities were enough to make Grace dizzy.
“Thank you for coming,” Penelope said. Her brown eyes were swollen and rimmed with red. She looked past Grace, as though she were not fully there.
Grace didn’t want to imagine what it would feel like to bury a sibling.
She moved from the line and again spied the roommate Oliver had described. Grace parted through the solemn crowd, wanting to ask permission to possibly examine some of Harriet’s mementos before they were all collected or given away.
But the grounds were thick with people milling around the old trees, sharing condolences and smoking cigarettes, and she didn’t reach Caroline in time.
She watched the girl climb into a carriage and drive away.
Grace made her way toward where Theodore Parker was leaning against a tree, looking dapper in his black suit. The scruff was starting to fill in over his birthmark, and part of her was sad that it was disappearing.
She hesitated. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” she asked.
He said yes before she even told him where.
The carriage wove through the narrow streets as Theodore and Grace navigated to Harriet’s former address. The route ended in front of a small, brick apartment building beside a general store. There were pots of cheerful flowers peeking out beside the cracked steps, but the building looked like it had seen better days.
Grace climbed the stairs resolutely and knocked on the door.
There was a long beat before Caroline Locke answered. She slid open the door slowly, still in her mourning clothes.
“Caroline?” Grace asked.
Caroline’s eyes narrowed as she looked between Grace and Theo. “Yes?” she asked warily.
“I’m Grace Covington, and this is Theodore Parker. We were friends of Harriet’s. We saw you at the funeral earlier today.”
“Grace Covington.” Her eyes narrowed further as she thought. “The Grace Covington who wrote that article in the paper this morning?”
Grace nodded. “Yes.”
“What do you want?” Caroline’s affect grew noticeably flatter.
“I was hoping we might be able to take a look at Harriet’s things,” Grace said quickly. “Before they are all boxed and taken away.”
“I don’t think so,” Caroline said.
She began to shut the door in Grace’s face, but Grace stopped it.
“Please,” she said. “It might help my cousin. Don’t you want the person who killed Harriet to face justice? Thetruemurderer—not the person who loved her?”
“Listen,” Caroline said. “All you’re doing is stirring things up. I don’t want to end up in the paper, or have any attention drawn to meat all. Especially if the murderer is still out there. Harriet and I weren’t that close. I definitely don’t feel like putting myself in any danger for her. Just let this be buried with Harriet.”
This time, Caroline shut the door resolutely before Grace could stop her.
