“A stitch in my side stabs with every breath, and by now the stewards must assume I’m a madwoman, but I don’t care.The door to the Lisles’ suite is closed but unlocked. I burst through to see chaos. The fine sofa and chairs have been tipped over, and the cut-glass water jug is shattered into dozens of glittering shards. One of the draperies is torn, and in Lady Regina’s room, I hear little Beatrice wailing.When I rush in the door, I see Layton sprawled on the bed. Blood oozes from cuts on his ha...nds and face, and his nose is crumpled and puffy. Mrs. Horne stands next to the bed, bandages in hand, but she’s not fixing him up; she’s in a kind of stupor. I can’t imagine what she must have seen, or what Mikhail might have threatened to do to her. Beatrice stands on her cot, shrieking in terror and neglect.As I go to the little girl, Layton’s head lolls to one side while he turns to me. One of his eyes has already swollen shut. “You,” he says thickly. His lips and tongue must be cut.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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