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P ain seared through Athena’s face and shoulder as she smashed into the road. Although stunned, she didn’t have a second to lose. Using all her might, she rolled off the edge of the embankment into empty space.

In an ear-splitting roar of wheels and jangling harnesses, the hurtling carriage passed by with barely an inch to spare. Athena tumbled into the ditch, hitting the ground with a jarring jolt. She lay there for a long moment in the damp grass and cow parsley, breathing hard and too dazed to move.

If that carriage had run me over, I would have probably died.

Athena waited until the sounds of the vehicle had disappeared into the distance, and her pulse and respiration had resumed something close to their natural pace, before sitting up to take measure of her status.

A sharp pain spasmed in her upper cheek.

She flexed all her fingers, then tested her arms and legs to make sure that nothing was broken.

Thankfully, other than an aching shoulder, she still seemed to be in one piece.

She stood up, wincing at a tenderness in her right ankle and miscellaneous other aches and pains.

She did her best to wipe off the patches of loose soil from her dress and cape before climbing back up onto the roadside.

As she resumed the walk home, favoring her good ankle, her mind buzzed with confusion.

It had felt for all the world as if that carriage had deliberately tried to run her down.

But that was a mad idea. Wasn’t it?

*

Athena arrived at Thorndale Manor to find Selena and Miss Russell seated on a bench in the rear courtyard, deep in conversation. At Athena’s approach, they both leapt to their feet, causing the notebook on Selena’s lap to tumble to the ground.

“Athena!” exclaimed Selena. “What happened?”

Athena struggled to keep her face expressionless as she made her way over to them. “I fell in the road on my way home from Darkmoor Park.” She couldn’t announce that she’d nearly been hit by a runaway carriage. What would their pupils’ parents make of that if it got back to them?

Selena hurried up to her. “Did you walk all that way on a twisted ankle?”

“It’s not twisted, just twinging a little. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Your cheek is all purple and the skin around your right eye is yellow ,” observed Miss Russell, gawking at her. “Is your eye going to fall out?”

“I hope not,” Athena answered, amused and determined to change the subject. “What have you two been up to?”

“Miss Russell asked for advice about the book she’s writing. I’ve been reviewing the first chapters. She didn’t want you to see it until it was further along.”

“What are you writing about, Miss Russell?”

“A girl who makes friends with a ghost.”

Athena smiled. “I look forward to reading it.”

“Miss Russell, we’ll continue this at another time. You have three-quarters of an hour until dinner. Feel free to spend it however you like.”

“Yes, Miss Selena. Miss Taylor, I hope your ankle feels better,” the girl said before taking her notebook back and dashing off.

Selena offered her arm to Athena as they headed back to the house. “Now, tell me what really happened,” Selena insisted in a low tone.

It was annoying the way her sister could always see straight through her. Softly, Athena replied, “A carriage nearly ran me down.”

“ What? ” Selena froze briefly and stared at her. “Did you try to get out of its way?”

“Yes. But it was traveling at full speed. I had to fling myself into a ditch to avoid it.”

“Dear lord. No wonder you’re so banged up. You could have been killed.”

They retreated to the drawing room. Athena lay on the sofa while Selena fetched Mrs. Lloyd, who brought rags and a bowl of cold water containing chips of ice.

“It’s almost the last of the ice in the icehouse,” the housekeeper fretted as she placed one wet cloth against Athena’s cheek and wrapped the other around her ankle. “You must rest this evening. Don’t walk on that ankle any more than you have to.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After Mrs. Lloyd had left, Selena sank down on the carpet beside the sofa and took one of Athena’s hands in hers. “To think that I could have lost you today.” Selena’s voice caught.

“It was terrifying.” Now that she was home and safe, Athena contemplated her brush with death and fought back sudden tears.

“Did you recognize the coach or the driver?”

“No. It was a black brougham with no special markings. I couldn’t see the driver’s face. His head was dipped low and obscured by a large hat.”

“He must not have seen you.”

“Perhaps.”

Selena tilted her head. “What do you mean, ‘perhaps’?”

“I mean, perhaps he was hiding his face for a reason.”

“What are you saying?” Selena let go of Athena’s hand. “You think the driver came at you deliberately?”

“That’s what if felt like.” Now that she had said the words aloud, Athena dismissed them. “But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

Selena went quiet for a moment. “Maybe not. Do you remember what you said in the churchyard on Sunday?”

“What did I say?”

“You announced your intention to find the true killer of Harold Sinclair.”

Athena felt herself flush. “Oh. That . Yes, that was foolish of me. If I could take those words back, I would.” Athena turned on the sofa and glanced at her sister, anxiety brewing in her stomach.

“What are you thinking? That the killer overheard and wants me out of the way? So, he hired a carriage and came after me?”

“Or he paid someone else to drive the carriage.”

“What a terrifying idea.” A newfound worry sprang to Athena’s mind. “ If that’s true, have I put you in danger as well?”

“I doubt it. I shook my head at you severely on Sunday. I don’t think anyone is worried about me. But you may have put yourself in danger by speaking out like that.”

Athena frowned. “Wait. If this was a planned attack, whoever was behind it would have had to have known I’d be walking home from Darkmoor Park this afternoon.”

“True. Who knew that?”

Athena inhaled a sudden, sharp breath. “A lot of people.”

“How so?”

“When I was at the apothecary shop two days ago, Mr. Chapman mentioned that I read to Mrs. Hillman every Wednesday afternoon.”

“Who else was there?”

“Quite a crowd.” Athena tried to think back. “Mrs. Powell. Mr. Osborn. And Edward Ackroyd. I told you about the withering glare he sent me.”

“Yes.”

“I saw Neville Sinclair taking to Mr. Johnson. Mr. Quince and Miss Quince were behind the counter. There were several other people I didn’t recognize. I didn’t take note of everyone.”

A silence fell between them.

“Of course, this whole idea might be utter nonsense,” Athena went on.

“It might be,” Selena agreed.

“We could be overreacting.”

“And letting our imaginations run away with us.”

“Like that time, when we were children, and we were absolutely positive that the butcher had murdered his wife?”

Athena’s lips twitched, recalling that long-ago event. “And it turned out she had just been away for a month visiting her sick mother?”

Selena nodded and gave what seemed to be a dismissive smile. “This may have simply been a runaway carriage.”

“The driver was in a great hurry to get somewhere, and he wasn’t paying attention.”

“His hat was pulled low, obscuring his vision.”

“If he had noticed you, he would surely have turned the carriage around at once and come back to make sure you were uninjured.”

“Absolutely right. That makes perfect sense.” Athena caught her sister’s eye. “Shall we put all this behind us and forget about it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Athena let out a sigh. “Going forward, I promise to be more discreet about what I say and to whom.”

“I should hope so.” Selena stood up. “Now. What is your next step?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. And it will have to wait in any case. Tomorrow, we are getting our roof repaired.”

*

“That doesn’t look safe.” Miss Cecilia frowned.

“I hope they don’t fall.” Miss Weaver wrung her hands.

Athena’s nerves were once again on edge as she, Selena, and their students watched Mr. Vernon and his crew working on the roof high atop Thorndale Manor.

It was a clear morning with not a single cloud in the bright-blue sky and temperate enough to require only a lightweight jacket.

Mr. Vernon had arrived early with his two men and a long cart loaded with boxes of tools, green slate, and other materials.

Athena had only had a brief chance to greet them before she’d had to start teaching.

Mr. Vernon had paused, brows furrowing, and taken a second look when he’d caught sight of Athena’s face, which sported an ugly, purple bruise on one cheek and a sallow black eye.

She simply told him she had fallen. He had introduced his third worker, a shy, slender fellow named Adams. They had gotten straight to work, and Athena had returned to the classroom.

It was now the morning exercise period, but instead of the usual running about, all five pupils were standing in the rear courtyard, as riveted by the scene above as were Athena and Selena.

Mr. Vernon was partway up the roof crawler, which lay atop the roof at the side of the broken slate. Athena couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was working in his shirt sleeves, and his dark-grey trousers hugged his long, lean legs and sculpted form, a sight that did strange things to her insides.

Mr. Vernon called out something to Mr. Adams, who stood at the top of the main ladder at the guttering, presiding over a bucket of tools and other materials.

Adams leaned forward with an outstretched arm to hand a tool to Mr. Vernon, but the connection missed.

Athena and her group all gasped in unison as the tool slid down the roof, landing with a clatter in the gutter.

“Oh!” observed Miss Russell, her blue eyes wide with dismay. “If Mr. Vernon had slipped instead of the tool, he would have fallen all the way to the ground .”

“He would have died ,” Miss Gilbert agreed breathlessly.