matter. They lied by omission. They used me.”
“Used you? Søren told you that he wasn’t in love with you. You knew that before you married him. He thought you wanted the money, thought you needed it.”
“I wanted him, loved him. And he didn’t love me. My own brother didn’t even love me. Kingsley loved my husband more than his own flesh and blood. My husband loved my brother more than his own wife. I didn’t know what to do. The notes I’d read … the words were burned into my mind. I prayed all the time. Days and days of walking alone in the woods trying to clear my head, trying to find an answer. Instead, I found the hermitage … their hermitage. And I got the miracle I’d prayed for.”
“What miracle?”
“A girl, a runaway, hiding out in the hermitage. Long dark hair, almost my height. It was meant to be. Destiny. She was perfect.”
“Perfect for what?”
“I’d given all the options so much thought. I could tell Christian what was happening. He loved me, worshipped me, thought my husband insane for never touching me. If I’d asked him he would kill my husband for me … kill my brother. But then I thought of those notes and how much they must love each other. And I did love Kingsley even though he’d stolen my husband’s affections from me. So I knew what I would do. I would kill myself.”
“But you didn’t. You killed that poor girl.”
“She had nothing. Nothing at all. She thought she’d find a new life in America. I merely saved her the heartache of disappointment.”
“By murdering her? Yeah, you’re all heart.”
“She was a gift. She made it so easy to disappear. No one even looked for me. I found the road, hitchhiked into Canada, found someone to take care of me … so easy to die.”
“You didn’t die. You murdered someone.”
Marie-Laure only shrugged as she sat her white Bible back on the bedside table.
“Someone had to die for their sins, their lies. But I’m starting to think …”
Her voice trailed off and she tapped her chin.
Fear shivered over Nora’s skin.
“Think what?” she whispered.
“That one death was not enough.”
12 THE PAWN
Laila watched as her uncle and Kingsley spoke to each other in hushed French. She ached to know what the note said that she’d delivered. As the carrier, she felt she deserved to be told what it said. The anguish on her uncle’s face, his naked fear, however, kept her from demanding more answers. He’d tell her in time if she needed to know. No matter how scared she was, she trusted him.
“Hey,” came Wes’s soft voice at her shoulder. “Let’s go get your face cleaned up. Okay?”
She let him take her by the hand as she stood up on shaking legs. He led her to a bathroom at the end of the hall. While Wes dug through drawers she sat on the countertop by the sink.
“Wow.”
“Wow what?” she asked, keeping her back to the mirror behind her. She didn’t even want to see how bad she looked.
“There is, like, an entire hospital full of first-aid supplies in this bathroom. I’m not even going to think about why.”
Laila smiled. “I can probably guess.”
Wes washed his hands in the sink for a solid two minutes. He scrubbed his nails, used tons of soap and scalding water and dried them on a new clean towel.
“You wash your hands like a surgeon,” she said.
He smiled ear to ear, a smile so bright it was like a sunbeam breaking through the clouds. But the cloud came back in an instant and both sun and smile were gone again.
“I work in a hospital. Part-time orderly stuff. I want to be a doctor someday, though.” Wes tossed the towel aside.
“I work in an animal clinic. I’d be too scared to work with people. They talk back.”
“That’s my problem with working with animals. They can’t tell me where it hurts.” He stood directly in front of her so that her knees almost touched his hips. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
“I think I’m okay. I’m sore all over.”
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