Scratch.
This time Lydia heard it.
Her face emptied of color.
“Mom?”
Gideon moved forward.
“Nerves can play strange tricks—”
Nora ripped the linen away.
Eleanor lay exactly as she had before.
Eyes closed.
Hands resting over her abdomen.
Pale skin.
Still lips.
Nora stared at Eleanor’s right hand.
Her fingernails.
One of them was bent backward.
There was a thin red mark along her index finger.
Fresh blood.
“Nora?” Lydia whispered.
Nora grabbed Eleanor’s wrist.
Gideon seized her arm.
“Don’t.”
She spun toward him.
“Let go of me.”
“The doctor certified her death.”
“Let go.”
“You’re upsetting Lydia.”
Nora tore herself free and pressed two fingers against Eleanor’s neck.
Nothing.
Then—
Something.
So faint she almost convinced herself she had imagined it.
She pressed harder.
Waited.
There.
A tiny beat.
Another.
Long silence.
Then another.
Nora’s entire body went cold.
“Call an ambulance.”
Lydia stared at her.
“What?”
“Call an ambulance now.”
Gideon stepped between them.
“This is absurd.”
Nora bent over Eleanor and put her ear close to her mouth.
There was no obvious breath.
Then a ghost of warmth touched Nora’s cheek.
She looked up.
“She’s alive.”
Lydia made a sound that wasn’t quite a scream.
Gideon didn’t move.
For one extraordinary second, his face became completely blank.
No grief.
No surprise.
No confusion.
Nothing.
Then the mask returned.
“That’s impossible.”
Nora was already checking Eleanor’s airway.
“Lydia, call emergency services.”
Lydia fumbled for her phone.
Gideon reached for it.
“We have a physician in the house.”
Nora looked at him.
“Why are you trying to stop her?”
“I am trying to prevent hysteria.”
“My mother is breathing!” Lydia shouted.
Several guests appeared at the ballroom doors.
Gideon looked around.
“Everyone stay calm.”
Nora ignored him.
“Eleanor? Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
She leaned closer.
“Eleanor, it’s Nora.”
Eleanor’s eyelids moved.
Lydia dropped beside her.
“Mom?”
A shallow breath entered Eleanor’s lungs.
Then another.
Her eyes opened.
Only a fraction.
But they opened.
Lydia began crying.
“Oh God. Mom. I’m here. I’m right here.”
Eleanor’s gaze wandered without focus.
Nora squeezed her hand.
“Don’t try to move.”
Eleanor’s lips parted.
No sound came.
Gideon stepped backward.
Nora noticed.
“Eleanor, an ambulance is coming.”
Eleanor’s fingers closed weakly around Nora’s hand.
She tried to speak again.
This time a single word escaped.
“Bell.”
Nora frowned.
“What?”
Eleanor swallowed painfully.
“The… bell.”
Lydia leaned closer.
“What bell?”
Lightning flashed beyond the windows.
The answer came from above them.
A deep metallic chime rolled through Ravenscourt House.
Everyone looked toward the ceiling.
The old tower clock had struck a quarter to midnight.
Eleanor’s eyes widened.
Her entire body tensed.
“No.”
Nora bent closer.
“What is it?”
Eleanor struggled to lift her head.
“Don’t… let… him…”
She coughed.
Gideon stepped forward.
“She needs medical treatment, not interrogation.”
Eleanor saw him.
The fear in her face was instant.
She pulled weakly at Nora’s sleeve.
“Tower.”
Gideon’s expression hardened.
“She’s delirious.”
Eleanor stared directly at Nora.
“Before twelve.”
Then her eyes closed.
Nora turned toward the clock.
Eleven forty-seven.
Thirteen minutes.
Sirens sounded somewhere beyond the estate gates.
Lydia was still holding her mother’s hand.
Nora stood.
“What’s in the tower?”
Gideon answered too quickly.
“Nothing.”
“Then you won’t mind if I look.”
He blocked her path.
“This stops now.”
Nora studied him.
“You knew.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Knew what?”
“That she might still be alive.”
Lydia looked up.
“Gideon?”
He laughed once.
It was a terrible sound.
“You’re listening to a confused woman who has just survived a medical catastrophe.”
Nora walked toward the door.
Gideon grabbed her wrist.
She looked down at his hand.
Then at him.
“Take your hand off me.”
“Don’t go upstairs.”
“Why?”
He said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Nora pulled free.
She ran.
Behind her, Lydia shouted for someone to stay with Eleanor.
The grand staircase curved through the heart of Ravenscourt.
Nora took the steps two at a time.
Eleven forty-nine.
The clock tower could only be reached through the old north corridor.
Eleanor had taken Nora there once, years earlier.
The tower had belonged to their grandfather, she had explained. As children, Eleanor and Gideon used to climb the stairs during storms and count the seconds between lightning and thunder.
At the top was the enormous bronze bell that had marked every hour at Ravenscourt for more than a century.