Page 104 of The Witch

I can no longer ignore the cries from above. I am risking my own safety, but it matters not. I abandon the desk drawer key and run as quickly as I can for the stairwell.

I take the stairs two at a time, nearly stumbling in my haste. My concern is for my husband, even though I am certain the screams came from a woman. When I reach the top, the door to the bedroom that I shared with Archie is closed, but the glow of a lantern can be seen peeking out from underneath. If Archie were in slumber, he would have put out the light. That means…

He is still awake.

Should I unlatch the door, the ruse will be revealed. Archie will know that I did not perish in that fire, and true to his nature as a law-abiding soul, he will deliver me into the sheriff’s waiting arms.

Could I have imagined those screams? Perhaps it is my mind playing tricks on me. The smart thing to do would be to turn around, take the money from the desk drawer, and run as far and as fast as I can.

But then I hear it again.

Not a scream this time, but a gurgling, choking sound. Like a person taking their last breath. That is when I realize I cannot run away.

So I put my hand on the doorknob and turn.

What I see when I get inside leaves me frozen. It is Molly Howe. And she is completely naked, lying in our bedstead.

In the courtroom, I saw the bulge of her abdomen. I thought there was a chance that she could be with child. But now that I see her free of clothing, it is a certainty. She is at least three months gone. I am stunned to see it. How long has this harlot been lying with my husband? Six months? A year? Longer?

But any rage at this deception dissolves into dread when my eyes behold my husband’s hands around her throat, squeezing the very breath from her.

The choking sounds have ceased. Molly’s mouth is hanging open, as if being strangled to death has surprised her. Her previously beady eyes bulge in their sockets, and her lips are tinged with blue.

“Archie!” I cry out. “Stop it at once!”

But Archie pays me no mind. His attention is wholly fixed on his hands around his naked maid’s bare throat. He squeezes tighter and tighter, a smile playing on his lips. I have never seen him look quite so full of glee in all the three years of our union. I reckon I never grasped what he really enjoyed until today.

“Archie!” This time I run at him, attempting to wrench him from Molly’s body. I try to pry him loose, but he holds fast to her neck. “Let her free, Archie!”

A moment later, as if coming out of a trance, he releases his grip on her neck. He holds his hands in the air, as if they are covered in her blood. He crawls off her, still in his undergarments, his face pale.

But it is too late. She is gone. Her lips are blue, and her chest does not move.

“You…you killed her!” I gasp.

Archie collapses onto the edge of the bed, clutching his head with his hands. “I know. I know. I could not help myself. I can never help myself.”

I can never help myself.

I stare at the fiery red marks on Molly’s neck. It is at that moment that I realize the truth:

Jonas is innocent. My husband is the Night Reaper.

77

PRESENT DAY

JULIA

The phone rings. And rings. And rings.

A breeze blows past me, and I hug my jacket to my chest. After four rings, I’m convinced there’s no way he’s going to pick up. He’s probably sound asleep with his phone on Do Not Disturb. But then just when I’m about to give up, I hear a cough on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” It’s Henry, his voice thick with sleep. “Julia?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m calling late. But you left a bunch of messages and⁠—”

“Right, I did.” He suddenly sounds completely awake. “I’m glad you called. I need to talk to you.”