EPILOGUE
Have you seen this?” Tom strode into the kitchen and slapped a newspaper down on the table. A headline blazed across the front.
KNIFEMAN MURDERS!
Doctor Accused of Poisoning and Mutilating His Patients. Philadelphia Left Shaken in Wake of Madman's Arrest.
Molly’s mouth set in a hard line. LaValle was in prison now, awaiting trial. She’d delivered only enough of the needle’s mixture to make sure he would live to face his fate.
Ava had not had that luxury.
Molly supposed it was better this way. Ava’s reputation remained mostly intact; she was considered a victim by those who could not see a woman capable of such crimes in her own right.
But Ava had made her own choices, dark as they may have been. And a part of Molly wanted people to know it. To lay claim to that darkness, to allow it to breathe in the light of a world that had denied her everything else. Because Ava was a part of Molly now too. Ava’s strength and Ma’s kindness twined around her heart.
She turned away from the screaming headline, exhausted.
“Are you all right?” Tom looked worried.
They’d held Ava’s funeral that morning, four days after her death.
Molly had acted as the official host, but in reality she did little. Ursula came to her aid, busily planning the service and ensuring that everything was proper, as befitted a “lady” of Ava’s station.
Now Molly and Tom were alone.
Left here to say their goodbyes.
“Are you sure you won’t come with me?” He moved closer, and she could feel his breath hot on her neck.
They were awkward around each other now. Wanting to start something that might never be finished.
“You know I can’t.”
“You could. There’s people could use you out there. More even than here. Doctors are scarce on the frontier.”
She wanted to tell him to kiss her. Instead, she stepped back.
“I have business to attend to. As do you.” Her voice was firm, but she knew he wasn’t fooled. Lifting a hand, he brushed it across her trembling lip.
The sound of footsteps drove them apart as two children stumbled into the room. Their faces were joyful, their grins as wild and beautiful as Tom’s.
“Jaysus, you two. Colin, quit chasing your sister.”
“Keira were chasing me!” the boy protested.
The little girl lifted a cherubic face. “Only because he deserved it.”
“You both deserve it, is what I think.” Tom scooped them up, tossing one over each shoulder. Turning in a dizzying circle, he ran with them to the garden, their delighted squeals following him outside.
Molly smiled. He was happy. Not two days after Ava, his own mother had died. Now he had these two, the littlest of his siblings, as his own. Tomorrow, they’d leave for Kansas. And Tom would start his new life.
He came back in through the doorway, panting. “Those two are like to kill me!” But he was still grinning.
“Here.” Molly held out a piece of paper, on which she had scribbled a list of times. “I’ve got the train schedules for you to review. Now if we—”
“We’ve been through this a hundred times, Molly,” Tom said. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” She held his gaze.
“Molly Green, the Corpse Queen.” His voice was soft, and he spoke the words like an incantation.
“I’m not,” she said. “That was just a silly title.”
“You are,” Tom said. “It’s yours now. The house. The work. The title only goes with it.”
She tried it on. Slipped it over herself, like one of Ava’s dresses.
“The Corpse Queen.” The name slid like cool silk against her tongue.
Perhaps it suited.
A corpse was only a body, after all. The tenuous flame of life was not so very much to separate the living from the dead. She meant to serve them both—treating the sick and honoring the departed.
“Yes,” she said finally. “But we’ll do things differently this time. You and me.”
He nodded gravely. “Money to the families we take from, proper treatment for the bodies that don’t have kin, that right?”
“That’s right.”
Ava hadn’t been right in all she did, but she’d treated her bodies well. Respected them for their value. Molly also meant to respect them for the lives they’d led.
“Molly,” Tom started, his voice catching in his throat. “I said I’d wait. I meant it.”
What she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms. But to do that would be to give up everything she’d made for herself here. And no one, not even Tom, was worth that.
“Don’t wait for me too long, Tom Donaghue.” Trying to lighten the mood, she smiled. “I’ve heard such a hard land makes plenty of lonely widows.”
“I said I’d wait.” He winked. “I didn’t say I’d forgo my duties as a gentleman. Ladies in need expect comfort.” His voice was cheerful. Teasing. But she heard the sadness behind it.
Lifting a hand, she touched the scar that now had a twin across her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I would never have made it here without you.”
He broke out in a genuine smile. “Nah, you’re Molly Green. You’ll always be fine.”
There was no final kiss, no last promise made, not even a goodbye.
She was glad for it.
She meant to expand her business, carry her empire farther west than Ava had ever dared imagine. Tom would run things there, while she managed from afar. They’d see each other again, though who knew what their lives would look like when they did.
For now, she could only watch as he walked away.
“Miss?” A timid face peeked around the door.
“Come in, Maeve,” Molly said. “You look nice.”
Maeve had worn a stately gray dress for the funeral, and its simple cut suited her pretty, dimpled face perfectly.
She flushed at Molly’s compliment. “I’m going to change back into my service clothes just as soon as I get a moment.”
“No you’re not,” Molly said. “You’re a guest here today.”
“I miss her.” Maeve’s nose wrinkled, and a wetness filled her eyes. “She was like nobody else, wasn’t she?”
Molly thought of the cool, beautiful face of her aunt—no, mother—its sleek lines that could cut you as quickly with their edge as they could raise you into another world with their elegance.
“Yes,” Molly said softly. “Like no other.”
“I found the envelope you left on my nightstand,” Maeve said. “It’s too much money.”
“We’ve talked about this. You’re to run the house, and book lectures for the school now too. I mean to have a proper one. No more creeping about in the dark. And there’ll be women coming. It’ll be a comfort for them to see a female face running things. Which means hiring people to help you and taking up residence in a better suite of rooms that you outfit as your own. The money is yours. You’ll more than earn it.”
Maeve looked troubled. “Are you sure you can’t just stay and manage everything yourself?”
“I’ve got my own studies to finish. You can do it,” Molly promised. “There’s no one better for it.”
Maeve flushed again. Then, standing a little straighter, she bowed, a small smile crossing her lips before leaving.
Neatening her hair in the foyer mirror and throwing a wink to Hades, Molly picked up Ma’s coat and made her way outside.
The March day was crisp and springlike. The air smelled of cherry blossoms.
A figure waited for her at the front gate.
“I told you not to come,” Molly said, a mock frown on her face.
“And I told you I’d do as I pleased.” Ginny shoved a brown paper bag, grease-stained around the bottom, toward Molly. “Here. The girls said bring you candy, but I thought this would stand you better. I never did like sweets.” She grinned.
“Lucky thing.” Molly took the bag, grinning back. It was why Ginny’d survived. Ava had offered her the peppermints, but Ginny had swallowed only a few, spitting the others out when Ava wasn’t watching.
“It’s my favorite kind, liver and onions, with plenty of filling,” Ginny said. “Wanted you to be well-fed on your travels. The girls sent along a few things for you as well. Trinkets and such to entertain you on your trip.”
“Tell them thank you,” Molly said, feeling unexpectedly touched.
“Ah, you can tell them yourself when you get back. We’ll be waiting for you.”
Molly smiled, a tightness in her throat keeping her from speaking.
“And don’t forget, my family will be expecting you for dinner. First Monday of the month. I’ve sent the letter. And you best get there early if you expect anything to eat. Otherwise, the little ones will have picked the table clean.”
Molly nodded, giving a shaky laugh, and let herself be pulled into one final hug as she inhaled the scent of bread and onion and home. “Eat your sandwich,” Ginny whispered gruffly in her ear. “Don’t want you starving before you ever get there. Me mam will want to thank you for saving my life.”
She planted a kiss like a blessing on Molly’s forehead. “Now, go on,” she said, then she lowered her voice. “Be brave, Molly Green. They can’t scare you if you ain’t afraid.”
The cheerfully painted green-and-white omnibus came clattering to a stop, and Molly got on, taking a spot along one of the wooden benches beneath the windows. As it started to move, a young girl jumped on, falling daringly into a seat beside her.
Molly’s breath stopped.
Because for a moment, it was Kitty.
Kitty as she might have been—strong and proud, taking her place amidst the living girls of the city.
Then the illusion passed, and the girl was just another stranger.
But Molly knew the truth. Kitty would never really leave her again. She’d be in the face of every body Molly touched—both the living and the dead.
The train was already at the station, great puffs of smoke huffing out of its engine. Holding her ticket, she made her way to the porter, who took her bags and helped her inside.
She took a seat by herself, first class. Ava’s money had at least granted her that.
Settling against the cool velvet, Molly reached into her coat pocket and fingered the letter she’d found locked in Ava’s room.
Dear Mrs. Wickham,
It has come to my attention that you may, in fact, be the same woman who left a very long time ago after a short acquaintance with my brother. I say acquaintance, though I do believe he wronged you greatly. There were certainly some very ugly rumors, and my family urged me never to contact you. But if you are who I think you are and there truly was a child, I hope you could find it in your heart to let me meet him or her. I have no children of my own, you see, and despite his shortcomings, I loved my brother. I should quite like to see something of his face once again.
Should you choose not to respond to this letter, or if this is not, as my sources suggest, the woman in question, please feel free to ignore my request entirely.
Yours in good faith,
Reginald Wallace,Esquire
1500 Evergreen Lane
London, England
The letter wasn’t the primary reason she was going to London. The Royal College of Medicine was—James Chambers and his family connections had secured her a spot to study for two years at one of the greatest medical colleges in the world. That and the titillating fact that she’d been a pupil of the Knifeman. She had no doubt the students across the ocean would challenge a woman’s right to be there just as she’d been challenged here, but she meant to prove them wrong. Philadelphia was her home, but she needed to leave it behind, find her own way, make her own reputation.
And there was this, too, the letter’s invitation. Whether she would answer it or not was a decision she had yet to make, but it was one that was all her own.
Beneath her, the train grumbled to life and began to move. Leaning her head against the cold windowpane, Molly watched the city pass.
Outside, the world rushed by in a blur, the sky as white as bone. Sinking deeper into her seat, she held her hand up to the glass.
The wound from the knife was completely healed now, and the cut had left a scar like a crescent moon across her palm.
She turned it around, marveling, the raised skin catching and holding the light.
A body—as vast and grand as any ocean, the worlds beneath it endless.
And it was hers.
Every inch of it. Flawed and perfect and ready to live.