Page 19 of One Last Breath

“You know about her garden?”

“No, I don’t, but I know that she believes in the Secret Keeper.”

“What’s the Secret Keeper?”

“It’s an old legend, very old. Supposedly, the Secret Keeper was a deaf-mute soldier in the Continental Army who was entrusted with the most important secrets of the revolution. As he was a deaf-mute, it was believed that he couldn’t be tortured into revealing any information should he be captured by the British. He could only communicate by writing things down.

“After the war, he settled here in Savannah, and continued to serve as a Secret Keeper, although his role now was more that of a priest hearing confessions than an intelligence agent. People would tell him all of their darkest secrets, and he, of course, would keep all of them. Supposedly, when he was finally taken to Heaven, he was told to give an account for himself, but he wouldn't for fear of breaking the confidence of his neighbors. So, he was denied entry and cursed to walk the Earth to witness every horrible thing his neighbors and their descendants committed without being able to stop any of it. Supposedly, those who harbor guilt in their hearts see him from time to time as a ghostly figure wandering through their property. A few of the more active imaginations in our town believe that if they confess their secret to him, he'll reveal the answer to another secret, whatever the secret giver most desires to know. It's a silly rumor, but rumors like that do tend to persist, don't they?"

I absorb this information and try to reconcile it with Elizabeth’s behavior. “But what secret could Elizabeth have shared in exchange for an answer?”

“Alas,” Clara says with a dramatic sigh. “But consider this: if the Secret Keeper still refuses to answer Elizabeth, did she truly confess her darkest secret?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I spend another hour with Clara making small talk about other gossip in town. She asks a lot of questions about me, which I deflect as much as possible. The last thing I need is for her to spread rumors that could jeopardize my position here.

Eventually, I decide enough time has passed for me to leave politely, so I bid her adieu and walk home. I head straight to my room and pull out Lila Benson’s chest and suitcase, then go through everything again.

I rifle through the pockets of her clothing and check the lining of every pouch in her suitcase, looking for more hidden notes like the one I find under my dresser. I leaf through every lesson book in the chest in case another note is tucked within the pages of those books. When I find nothing, I begin to skim through the books, looking for Lila's handwriting. Perhaps she's written something in a margin that can be useful.

I find her handwriting frequently, of course, but nothing that seems out of the ordinary, nothing, in fact, other than notes on Annabelle’s schoolwork. Were it not for the note I find under my dresser and the letter I find in her suitcase, I would think her a perfectly normal governess.

But there is a note, there is a letter, and she did disappear, seemingly without a trace. She was investigating something, and she, like me, suspected Elizabeth and Violet of being at the center of it.

But what was it? I can’t believe that the only records of Lila’s suspicion would fail to mention what that suspicion was. There must be something among these belongings that will help me understand what Lila thought she saw.

There’s a knock on my door, and I jump, tossing a lesson book over my shoulder. I sigh and press my hands to my temples. I don’t think anyone’s knocked on that door without frightening me half to death. I get to my feet and force the irritability away before answering the door.

Christopher stands in front of me. He wears a dark blue long sleeve button down above olive green khakis and brown Oxford loafers. It strikes me as a somewhat odd combination, but he wears it well.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

He smiles slightly at me, and I notice that his eyes are just as blue and piercing as his father’s. “I thought I’d invite you to join me for a stroll through the Glens. You keep to yourself a lot. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome here.”

“Oh, it’s quite all right,” I say. “I mean, I’ve been socializing with others. It’s just that you’ve been busy. I mean… I’m sorry. I’m afraid you’ve caught me a little out of sorts.”

His smile widens and takes on an arrogant slant that suggests he’s used to having this effect on women. Well, if he thinks that’s the reason I’m out of sorts, he’s greatly mistaken. But I’d rather he thinks that’s the reason for my discomfiture than suspect—

“What is all of that?”

I realize that he’s frowning and looking over my shoulder at the mess. I close the door halfway and say defensively, “I’m going through some things. Don’t worry, I’ll tidy it up when I’m done.”

“Are those Lila’s belongings?”

This is exactly what I don’t want him to suspect. I think of denying him, but the frown on his face tells me he knows the answer to his question already. Lying will only make things worse.”

“Yes,” I reply. “I was looking through her lesson plans for some ideas for the children. I’m afraid I’m drawing a bit of a blank with the older ones.”

Christopher calls my bluff. “The oldest child here is eight years old. What could you possibly hope to learn from Lila Benson’s high school lessons that could help you with grade school children?”

I am at a loss for words. “I… I… well, I wasn’t…”

He narrows his eyes slightly. “Mary, snooping isn’t a good look for you. What if there’s sensitive information in those books?”

That’s exactly what I hoped to find, I don’t say. Instead, I say, “I… I’m sorry. I figured that since it had been so long, there’d be no harm in looking.”

“For what?”

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