I stared at my brother, but he simply hung his head. Whispered voices cried, “Run! Run!” but I couldn’t force my feet toward the stairs.
Father lifted a lock of Mother’s hair, his expression wiped clean of all emotion except for one: disgust. “I’ve never claimed to have succeeded in taking care of either of you. As parents, we only do what we think is best. Even if we fail miserably at our duty.”
Tears collected in the corners of his eyes as he continued staring at my mother’s ruined face. I swallowed, unsure of where to go from here. It seemed my family relationships were not at all what they appeared to be. Nathaniel moved closer to our father and gazed down at Mother. It was too much. I had to leave this place.
Monsters were supposed to be scary and ugly. They weren’t supposed to hide behind friendly smiles and well-trimmed hair. Goodness, twisted as it might be, was not meant to be locked away in an icy heart and anxious exterior.
Grief was not supposed to hide guilt of wrongdoing.
In what sort of world could such vast dichotomies co-exist? I longed for the comfort of a scalpel between my fingertips, and the scent of formalin crisp in the air. I wanted a cadaver that was in need of forensic study to clear my mind.
My attention strayed back to my mother. Perhaps I should focus on healing the living from now on. I’d seen enough death to last ten thousand lifetimes. Maybe that’s precisely why Uncle and Thomas started experimenting with organ transplants.
Thomas. With a sudden jolt, I realized how much I loved him and needed to be with him. He was the only truth left in the world I understood.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?” Father asked, a demanding edge in his tone.
Even now, in the face of this sinister lab and all that was revealed, he wanted to protect me from the outside world. He was too mad to see this place was exactly the kind of thing he’d been keeping me from all my life.
A disease much worse than pox or cholera or scarlet fever lived here.
Violence and cruelty were something else entirely.
“I’m going upstairs, and I’m locking Nathaniel in here,” I said, sparing my brother one last glance as he petted Mother’s hair. “Then I’m paying Scotland Yard a visit. It’s time each of us owned our truths, no matter how twisted and horrendous they are.”
“You can’t be serious,” Nathaniel gasped, looking to our father for assistance. I moved across the room, studying Father. He seemed torn between wanting to do right and wanting to protect his child. Indecision lifted from his features.
“They’ll have your brother hanged,” he said quietly. “Could you honestly watch that happen? As a family, have we not suffered enough?”
It was an arrow shot straight through my heart, but I couldn’t bury the truth. If I didn’t go to the police, I’d live a thousand lifetimes in regret. Those women did not deserve to suffer at all. I couldn’t ignore that.
“Mother would expect me to do the right thing, even if it’s brutally hard.”
I looked at my father, feeling sympathy for him. What must it be like, knowing you raised the devil? It probably felt the same as knowing you sat by a monster day in and day out, never noticing the blackness of his soul.
Father gazed at me for a long moment, then nodded. I offered him a weak smile before facing my brother. Even though he’d committed wretched things, I still couldn’t find it in my heart to hate him. Perhaps we were all mad.
“Wadsworth? Audrey Rose!” A panicked shout rang out from the stairwell, followed by a clatter of feet banging down the stairs. A second later Thomas dashed into the room, looking rumpled for the second time in his life. He halted before me, his eyes running over my face and body, pausing on my wrists. “You’re all right?”
I stared at him, unable to answer his question. Unable to comprehend he was actually standing here with me. There was a flash of relief in his face before he looked away. He eyed Nathaniel as he moved farther into the room.
“I suggest you leave before Scotland Yard comes for you.” He glanced from my father’s stunned face to Nathaniel’s, his tone as somber as their expressions. “You didn’t honestly believe I’d show up unprepared, did you?” Thomas smiled sadly at me. “I’m truly sorry, Audrey Rose. This is one instance I hate being right.”
“How did you—” Nathaniel began asking.
“How did I discover you’re our infamous Jack the Ripper?” Thomas interrupted, moving closer to me, sounding more like himself. “It was quite simple, really. Something had been bothering me from the night Wadsworth and I followed your father home from Miss Mary Jane Kelly’s flat.”
“You what?” Father flashed an incredulous look our way.
“Apologies, sir. Anyway, there are no such things as coincidences in life. Especially when murder is involved. If your lordship was not involved, then who?”
“Who indeed,” Nathaniel muttered, not very impressed.
“I studied Superintendent Blackburn this evening, finding his actions genuine. Plus, he was missing the biggest clue I’d come across. When I went over details in my mind a thought occurred to me—our murderer might be involving himself in our case somehow. Lord Wadsworth and Blackburn, though good leads, were not involved. I could not find a single motive for either of them. Nor could I locate a particular clue I’d unearthed to implicate them.”
Thomas moved directly in front of me, planting himself between me and my bloodthirsty brother, who looked as if he was about to rip Thomas’s limbs from him.
“You, however, were quite curious about the case. Starting that vigilante group was a nice touch,” Thomas said almost appreciatively. “Then there was the pesky matter of those women with connections to your father. Since I’d ruled Lord Wadsworth out, that allowed my mind to stray. Your uncle has this theory, fascinating, really, about career murderers killing those they know. At least to start with.”