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“I always imagined him as some part of our lives forever. Our friend. Even your husband.” Or my own. I had not anticipated him leaving us behind entirely. If I had, would I have acted differently?

Justine laughed. “Oh, I could never marry Henry!”

I turned to look at her. “Then you are not upset? I had wondered if maybe you would feel it a lost opportunity.”

“Goodness, no. I never want to marry. I want to stay here and raise dear William and Ernest. And I want to take care of your children.”

My children. What a horrible thought. “But then you would never have children of your own!”

Justine nodded, her face clouding with sadness. “I do not want them.”

“Surely no one has ever been more capable of being a loving mother.”

“My mother was loving.”

I frowned. “We are not thinking of the same woman.”

Justine’s eyes were pulled to the floor with the weight of her memories. “She was. Loving and gentle and kind. To my three younger siblings. What I did to so anger her that she could treat me with nothing but hatred and spite, I have never known. Maybe something was wrong inside her. Or maybe she saw something wrong inside me that I have not yet discovered.”

I grabbed her arms and turned her toward me, my voice fierce. “There is nothing wrong with you, Justine. There never has been.” I knew what it was to be rotten in the core—to hide sharp teeth behind a serene smile. Justine was not hiding anything.

“But do you see? How do I know I will not share my mother’s madness? How do I know I will not make life a hell for a child of my own?” She patted my hands, removing them from her arms and settling back against the sofa. “I am so happy here with you. I want nothing more than what I have and can reasonably hope for in the future, now that Victor will return. I am glad it is all settled.”

I was happy to hear it, for her sake. But something in me recoiled at her words, and I realized what the ghost haunting my return truly was.

I was haunted by the diverging future I had given up. For so long I had held Henry’s potential like a card hidden up my sleeve. That card was lost to me now, as was Henry, whom I had planned to keep one way or another, whether by my side or Justine’s. As it always was, the choice had been made for me by others.

“It is so lovely to be home.” Justine sighed happily, staring into the crackling fire.

“Lovely,” I echoed, closing my eyes and remembering the thrill and satisfaction of other flames. I had proved my cunning and capability were as much as I had always hoped. And now I had my reward.

I shivered against a sudden imagined chill.

* * *

—

I slipped through the doors and took my place at the dining table. Judge Frankenstein did not even look up at me.

“I have good news,” I said as the maid placed soup in front of me. The boys had already eaten. Ernest was old enough to eat with us now but preferred to dine with William and Justine. I would have preferred that, too, but was never given the option. I had to maintain my standing in the home.

Judge Frankenstein did not ask what my good news was, so I pushed on. “Victor has written that he will be returning home within a month. He is eager to be reunited with me.” I allowed a feminine blush and ducked my head. “With all of us.”

“Good,” Judge Frankenstein said. The force of his voice surprised me, and I looked up to find him glaring intently at me over the papers I recognized from Monsieur Clerval. Victor’s father stretched his lips beneath his mustache into an imitation of a smile. “That is good.”

I fought the urge to recoil from the patently false expression. Was that how I looked when I pretended at happiness? No. I had far more practice than he did. And his smile was underwritten with desperation. It was the look of a street performer, hopeful and enthusiastic on the surface, patiently calculating beneath.

Did he think Victor would petition Henry about discharging our debts? Henry had fled the continent to get away from us. He would certainly do us no such favors. Or perhaps Judge Frankenstein thought Victor’s return would allow him to consult with his son on how best to eliminate the household’s only immediately disposable excess—myself.

He had no idea I had already won. Victor’s return would forever seal my fate and keep me safe from Judge Frankenstein’s harm. I returned his smile, and we spent the rest of the meal in miserable silence, companions in lies and deception, trapped forever under the same roof.

I had won indeed.

“WE SHOULD HAVE A party to celebrate Victor’s return!” Justine said, leaning over William to help him with his letters. “Excellent! If you turn that E the other way, it is perfect! You are so smart.”

Ernest, lounging on a nearby sofa reading a book about Swiss military victories, looked up. His thin lips turned down in a pout. “I would much prefer a party celebrating whenever he decides to leave again.”

“Ernest!” Justine said. She communicated so much reproach with a single word that he flinched, abashed.