I SWALLOWED hard and let myself sit, careful not to sit on my ankle. Theodora came to me briefly, then at a noise from without flew back to the door, slammed it shut, and twisted the key with a fierce yank. It was a good door, as high quality as everything else in the house, made of dense, dark oak. It would hold, at least for a short while.
I looked up at her, and she looked down at me, and then she took me in her arms and held me tightly. I became aware of tears on my cheeks, and more in my hair, which I assumed were hers. An object clattered to the floor at my side, a second pistol. Hers had been confiscated by the police, but I remembered that Edwin had owned one, too. He must have been carrying it when their house burned.
‘Good girl,’ she whispered into my shoulder. ‘Good girl, well
