No.
She quashed the sudden, ridiculous suspicion that skittered through her mind.
Steven wasn’t wandering about the premises at night. Why would he do that when he had full run of the place during daylight hours?
Only someone involved in an underhanded activity would prowl around in the dead of night.
Like the man the sheriff had chased.
And that man wasn’t Steven, despite the niggle of doubt polluting her mind. Why would a fine, successful young man skulk around in the dark or be involved in anything dishonest or deceitful?
That was crazy.
Nevertheless, a shroud-like sense of foreboding settled over her as she slowly closed her door. Locked it again. Returned to her bed.
And as she slipped under the covers and pulled them up to her chin, only one thing was clear in these predawn hours.
There would be no more sleep for her this night.
TWENTY-FIVE
“NATALIE, IS EVERYTHING OKAY?”As Cara broached the question, she studied the older woman. This was the second pause the woman had taken to rest her eyes a mere hour into their Monday session, and she looked weary and pale. As if she was feeling sick.
“Yes.” The corners of Natalie’s mouth tipped up, an attempt at reassurance that seemed to require far too much effort. “I’m just a little tired. I haven’t slept well the past two nights.”
Cara smoothed out a wrinkle in the top sheet of her tablet. Maybe she was overstepping, but Natalie was such a dear person, and her wan appearance was troubling. “From what you’ve told me, that’s not like you. I remember you said once, back when I first arrived, that you were grateful you always slept like a baby. I don’t mean to be nosy, but do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“Yes and no.” Her brow pinched, and she hesitated. As if she was thinking about explaining that ambiguous response. But in the end, she didn’t. “It’s a problem I have to work through. Nothing you need to be concerned about.” She ran a finger across the text on the journal page in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking we should skip ahead and seewhat we can learn about Marie’s death. Passively waiting for a story to unfold may not always be wise. And I know Paul would appreciate having answers sooner rather than later.”
“I’m game if you are.”
“Let’s do it.” She pushed her chair back, rose, and walked over to the desk, leaning more heavily on her cane than usual. After she pulled out the last journal, she returned to their worktable. “I’ll translate the final entry, and if that doesn’t provide answers, I’ll work backward and see if any of the previous entries do.”
“Ready whenever you are.” Cara leaned forward, fingers poised over the keyboard.
Natalie slipped her glasses back on and flipped through to the last pages of writing, about midway through. “This entry is dated May 12, 1935. The day Marie died.” After taking a sip of tea, she began to read.
I have thought about my situation day and night, tried to find a solution, but there is none. Not as long as he refuses to acknowledge that the—
Natalie frowned at the text. “Oh my.”
“What is it?” Cara stopped typing.
The other woman held up a finger and continued reading.
...that the baby is his. I know now all my fondest hopes have been nothing but dreams that will never come true. He isn’t going to leave his wife or his family. He was very clear about that when we met two weeks ago. It would ruin him, he said, and his work in Washington is too important to give up. More important than me and his baby. So he’s going to ruin me instead. I’ll be a disgraced woman. An embarrassment to my family. No one in town will want to have anything to do with me.
There is only one way I can remove the source of humiliation frommy family and myself. This isn’t how I wanted it to end, but what is the point of going on with a broken heart? I have no future anyway.
I’ll do it tonight, where he and I spent such happy hours together. I know I should destroy my journals too, but somehow I can’t. That would be like erasing the part of my life that gave me the most joy—and sadly, in the end, the most heartache. Instead, I’ll hide them. Perhaps someone in the future will find them and learn a lesson from my mistakes.
And before I take the leap, I will put myself in God’s hands, pray he understands my despair, and trust in his mercy and forgiveness for what I am going to do.
The room fell silent, and Natalie let out a slow breath. “So Papa was right, after all. His sister’s death wasn’t accidental. What a heartrending end for such a young woman.”
Cara swallowed past the tightness in her throat. “At least we know why she did it.”
“Yes. Despair can drive a person to take desperate measures. And finding oneself in a difficult situation can certainly trigger despair.”
