Madame Gauthier nodded. “Yes, she was alone. She arrived at our door out of the blue, much like you did tonight. Are you concerned about her for some reason, Willow?”
“No. No, there’s no reason to be concerned.” She glanced at Razor as if she needed to reassure herself. “I was just wondering about her, that’s all. We’re not, um . . . we’re no longer in touch like we used to be.”
Although Razor hadn’t discussed keeping Laurel’s death a secret from anyone at St. Anne’s he was relieved to hear Willow avoid showing their hand, no matter how kind and welcoming Madame Gauthier seemed to be. Until he knew the truth about Willow’s sister and whoever wanted her dead, Razor was going to assume they were surrounded by enemies.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear you’ve fallen out of contact with her,” Madame Gauthier replied. “She spoke very fondly of you when she was here.”
“She did? What did she say, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“No, of course, I don’t mind. I remember she told me how close you both were as children when you lived here. And she told me how much she regretted leaving with her adoptive family to Montreal when she knew you couldn’t come too.”
Razor heard Willow swallow. The urge to reach out to her nearly overwhelmed him, but he sat without moving, waiting as she fought to contain her emotions. “I was the one with regrets. I wanted Laurel to be happy. It’s all I ever wanted for my her.”
Madame Gauthier gave Willow a warm, tender smile. “Maybe you should be saying all of this to your sister instead of me.”
“I wish she was here right now so I could,” Willow said. “Can you tell me anything else about her visit, Madame Gauthier? I’m curious to know if she said why she came back to St. Anne’s. Or if she spoke about anything that was happening in her life at the time?”
“No, I’m sorry, dear. As I said, she stayed only briefly. We spoke for a short while here on this sofa, then she asked if she could go upstairs and spend a few minutes in the room you two once shared.”
“Our old room?” Willow asked.
Madame Gauthier nodded. “Since it wasn’t occupied at the time, I didn’t see the harm. Laurel went up for a few minutes and then she came back down to say goodbye and she was gone.”
Willow seemed to go stock-still beside Razor. “Madame Gauthier, if you don’t mind, I would love to see our old room too.”
“Of course,” she said. “It’ll be a few minutes before our tea is ready, anyway. If you’d like to go up now, please feel free. No one’s used that room for a couple of years now. The door should be open.”
Willow practically vaulted to her feet. Razor wasn’t even a second behind her.
“Thank you,” Willow said to their smiling hostess.
“I’m sure you can find your way upstairs on your own. I’ll call you back down when Madame Dupont has served the tea.”
CHAPTER 12
Curiosity sped Willow’s feet as she and Razor climbed the stairs to the second-floor room she’d once shared with her twin.
The aged steps still creaked in all the familiar places, and the scent of lemon-polished old wood permeated the air. The layout of the second floor with its collection of bedrooms spoking off the main hallway didn’t seem as large and intimidating to her now, as an adult.
Soft female voices filtered out from an open doorway as she and Razor walked toward the end of the long hall. Willow glanced at the two Breedmate girls inside the room as she passed. They couldn’t be more than sixteen, both sprawled on the floor with a small collection of opened textbooks scattered around them.
Willow offered them a smile in greeting, but they were too busy gawking at Razor to notice her.
As soon as she and her handsome Breed protector had stepped past their door, a peal of girlish giggles sounded in their wake.
Hearing laughter at St. Anne’s had been a rare thing when she and Laurel had been there. Sister Agathe’s rules had been strict and unforgiving. Madame Dupont had been her devoted pet, always willing to rat out Willow and the other girls for the slightest offense.
Evidently, Madame Gauthier’s changes truly were making an impact for the better.
Willow grinned, glancing over her shoulder at Razor. “I imagine you’re used to that kind of female reaction whenever you’re around.”
He grunted, the corners of his sensual mouth lifting. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “Uh, huh.”
As they reached the last room at the end of the hallway, her heart was racing, her breath quickening in her lungs. Her fingers trembled a bit as she reached for the crystal doorknob and twisted it.
The old door swung inward on whining hinges, opening into a small, vacant room with narrow twin beds situated side by side against one wall and a smattering of well-worn bedroom furnishings. For a moment, as she stood there, time rewound and froze.
