CHAPTER 12
Claire found it hard to believe how refreshed she felt in the morning despite sleeping poorly. She kept chasing ghosts in her dreams, and while they weren’t exactly nightmares, they made her twist and turn in her bed and furiously kick her sheets. At least she slept, but that was mostly thanks to the cognac she had drunk during the evening while hiding in her room. She looked over at the bottle on the desk under the window. It was much emptier than it had been when she had brought it up to her room.
Claire swung her legs out of bed and looked for her slippers. Although it seemed to be another fine day outside, the wooden floors in the house were never warm.
In the bathroom, Claire spotted the bloodied tea towel on the towel rack. She glanced at her hand. The cut was entirely
