Meg was still able to keep up with his words, but they’d begun to lose meaning. The feel of Charlie’s hand on her shoulder gave her courage. “Your father believes that my mother poisoned my father?”Ezra nodded once, sharply.Charlie’s grip tightened, and Meg pressed down hard on the lids of all of the boxes in her mind—including the one that held memories of her da. Thoughts of him pushing her on the swing, just under the tree there. The pram she’d pushed around the garden after he brought it back from his trip to New York. The lilacs he’d pick and tuck behind her ear, calling her his little flower when he did so. Without wiping the tears from her cheeks, Meg looked Ezra directly in the eyes and said, “What happened to Charlotte?”“I don’t know,” Ezra mumbled, seemingly shocked that she’d reversed topics so quickly.“What happened to her?” she asked again, mor

Mildred only raised her eyebrows at Charlie but didn’t say a word about his blunt statement of what Meg certainly saw as the truth. “I shall go upstairs and fetch Bertram for you,” Mildred said, glancing at the detective before she turned to ascend the stairs. “It will give me the opportunity to say goodbye to him privately.”Meg was certain that last comment was a jab at her, her mother implying what Meg had always known was true, that the relationship between her mother and uncle was more than either of them were ever willing to admit to, but Meg ignored it. The emotions running through her mind were too much, even for her carefully guarded compartments, and she felt like she might begin to crumble at any moment.“Miss Westmoreland, we are prepared to take your statement whenever you are ready,” the detective said quietly, a weak smile pulling at one corner of his mouth out of politeness.“Give her a few moments,

“The brain is still quite a mystery,” Dr. Morgan was saying as he sat across from Charlie in a plush velvet chair, Dr. Shaw seated nearby. Circles of smoke lingered around them from the cigars of several dozen gentlemen seated in similar groupings, discussing business and other inconsequentialities. Jonathan and Edward were sitting across the room, and Charlie glanced in his friend’s direction every once in a while, noting that he seemed unusually amused about something.“I’ve been reading Freud’s theories of psychoanalysis,” Charlie said with a nod. “Do you think there’s any truth to his findings? Particularly regarding the unconscious mind?”Dr. Morgan nodded. “I can’t say that I completely agree with all that Freud has to say, but I do with his theory that the unconscious mind plays a larger role in our actions than we previously understood.”“Do you believe memories can be tr

Dr. Morgan’s office was on the third floor of a five story building, nestled between two similar looking offices, and Charlie attempted to be discreet as he slipped inside for the first time. He knew that the field of psychiatry was growing in acceptance, yet he didn’t necessarily want to make an announcement to the world that he needed help. However, the accompanying chorus of voices that stepped off of the elevator with him was a reminder that he hadn’t been capable of getting better on his own.The receptionist was an older woman with a nice smile. She asked Charlie to wait one moment while she informed Dr. Morgan that he was there, and though there were a few leather bound chairs to choose from, Charlie chose to stand instead. He peeked beneath the curtains at the few autos and pedestrians traveling about below and wondered if any of those people belonged in here as much as he did.“Mr. Ashton!” Dr. Morgan said, his quiet voice still s

Ruth looked adorable in her pink dress, which hung to the floor, nearly tripping her as she danced around her parents. Kelly had stood beside Meg, along with Grace, and Charlie had been proud to have both Walter—who turned out to be every bit as silly as Charlie had described—and Quincy on his side.Now, it was all over, except for the reception. Then, Meg would return to Charlie’s house—the house they would share together—and embark on a new adventure, that of being Mrs. Charles Ashton.“Meg Ashton,” she said aloud, once the last of the well-wishers had moved along. “What do you think?”Charlie was already grinning from ear to ear, but his face brightened even more. “I think it sounds remarkable.”“That’s my name now, you know? Meg Ashton.”“What about Mary Margaret Ashton?” he asked, leaning close to her ear.“Heaven’s no. That&rsquo