‘You needn’t be frightened of me, Rose. I was not the one who killed your mother.’ Thea’s one eye was unblinking, her face unusually grave. ‘I believe you now know who it was.’ Rose pressed a trembling hand to her chest. She knew in her bones it couldn’t be Thea – this soft-eyed woman, who carried the healing gift within her. Which meant it was Willem. It had always been Willem.
