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Gone for a walk to inquire about the barman. Be back at noon. We’ll check the woods together—R.

I could not help but smile. I was inordinately grateful he wasn’t handling me with kid gloves after whatever occurred yesterday. Granted, I could only imagine the conversation once Ruan found Alfred, though frankly I suspected it would be far gentler than when I got my hands on the man.

The dream, if that’s even what it was, sat uneasily in my mind. I downed a glass of water before dressing for the day. I still needed to find out more about the other patient. My mother had pointed back to the priory in the dream. It had to mean something.

My legs were unsteady as I hurried along the priory road. Besides a vague headache and residual dizziness, I suffered few ill effects from my ordeal. Certainly, I’d had far worse mornings after in those dark days following the war when I spent my time swilling gin in dance halls and darkened barrooms.

I paused to rest alongside the river to catch my breath. It was hard to believe only a handful of days ago it had been a raging torrent and now it had receded to little more than a meandering stream. The morning sky was hazy and dim, casting the world around in muted shades of gray, which matched my mood. A great murmuration of starlings rose up into the sky. Hundreds clustered together like a great dark cloud moving in sweeping brushstrokes. I don’t know how long I stood there watching them. A few cold raindrops fell, marking my cheek.

“It’s quite the sight, is it not?”

Lost in my own thoughts, I’d not noticed Narcisse, the orderly, join me at the water’s edge. I’d met him yesterday when Félix confronted me outside the priory. Narcisse had been kind enough then. My mind flicked back to how his hands had been freshly scrubbed—red and raw. Today, however, he wore thick gloves. I did not think he meant me harm. The man was covered in mud, nearly up to his knees from mucking about in the woods. His trousers were tucked into his boots and he wore a long, oiled jacket more suited to pulling out brambles than working in the hospital.

“It is,” I agreed, turning back to the birds as they continued to swell high up in the sky.

“What brings you out here on such a sorry day? There’s a storm coming. My bones feel it. Soon too,” he said, gesturing to the cloudbank coming in from the west. He was an older gentleman, perhaps in his sixties, with the weariness of a soul who had seen far more than he preferred to.

I hugged myself against the cold, my cream woolen jumper pulled tight around my middle. “If I ask you a question, will you answer it?”

He hesitated, glancing to the priory before giving me a slight nod. “Depends upon the question.”

I stared across the river, my mind fixed upon the conversation I’d had with Alfred at the café before he drugged me. “Who was it that disappeared with my mother? No one will speak of him. All I know is two women died in that lake, and that there was another patient with my mother when she disappeared. Who was the other patient?”

Narcisse folded his arms across his chest and let out a weary sound. “They’ve not spoken of him for good reason. You’d be wise to forget what you’ve found here, lest any harm befall you too.”

His words echoed those of the man at the bar … Alfred. I swallowed hard. “Is someone harming the patients?”

“It’s not that. It’s…” Narcisse’s expression grew pained, his words dying away. I waited for him to continue, but he held his tongue.

I took a step closer to him, cutting the distance between us. “You know who left the hospital with my mother, don’t you? You know he’s in danger too.”

He gave me a grim nod, eyes more sympathetic than anything else.

My breath caught in my chest, waiting on him to continue, but he did not say a word. The only sound between us was the water and the wind whipping from the west. “Who was it? Was it Félix? You said Félix found her…”

He shook his head making the sign of the cross as he spoke. “Djhan. It was Djhan Wauters.”

Whatever I’d been expecting it was not that. Djhan Wauters. My landlady’s son. The child she’d not spoken to since Dr. von Keller ceased allowing visitors to the priority in the December. “Is he back at the hospital now?”

Narcisse shook his head slowly. “He never returned.”

I drew in a sharp breath. Mrs. Wauters thought she heard her son’s voice the morning that the warning had been painted upon her house. What if she had? Once again, Father Étienne’s face came to mind. Mrs. Wauters said the three men had been close. Étienne. Félix. Djhan. Two inside the hospital. One out.

My breath grew tight in my chest, and I must have wobbled, for Narcisse reached out, steadying me with a muddied glove, leaving a stain on my cream-colored jumper. “Are you all right, Miss?”

“Where is Djhan? I need to speak to him.” The pieces and players were locking into place now, and yet I still could not understand what they meant. Was Djhan helping my mother escape, or did he harm those women himself? And what’s more—how much did poor Mrs. Wauters know about her son’s fate?

“I don’t know. Rumor has it your mother killed him herself, and he was swallowed up by the lake. But I don’t believe it. Eva was a gentle soul. She had a temper, yes. But Djhan, Félix. Even that poor orphaned girl. You’d think she was their mother the way she watched after them.”

“Manon…”

Narcisse nodded, making the sign of the cross on his chest. “And now they’re all gone—all save Félix. It would not surprise me to find him next. He’s not been the same since Djhan and your mother left. He’s grown more erratic. More peculiar.”

My blood chilled at his words—he’d known my mother. Knew all of them. “Does Mrs. Wauters know her son is missing?”

He shook his head. “Von Keller forbids anyone to speak of any of them—but Djhan especially. Not when we do not know for certain…”

“Do not know for certain he’s dead, you mean?” My nostrils flared as righteous indignation washed over me. “The woman’s son is missing! She has a right to know.”