I watched my father slowly collapse to his knees, covering his face with his hands and sobbing, “My precious boy.”

It was too much to take in. I felt myself swaying but had to be sure of one thing before I lost myself. I peered at Mother’s body, relieved she wasn’t moving. Then a terrible sadness crushed me: Nathaniel’s rampage had been for naught.

“Please. Please get up.” I stared at my brother’s ruined hair. I wanted him to stand up and reach for that blasted comb. He needed to fix it. He’d hate it if someone saw him that way. I silently counted to thirty. It was the longest he’d ever gone without addressing disastrous hair. When I reached thirty-one he still hadn’t moved.

I fell to the ground, dry-heaving as realization sank in.

Nathaniel would never care about his hair again. He’d never drink another bottle of imported brandy. He’d never picnic with a hamper from Fortnum & Mason or help me escape Father’s pretty cell. He’d done horrific things, then left me to pick up the shattered pieces of our lives. Alone.

I screamed until my throat was raw. Thomas tried soothing me, but all I could think was: Jack the Ripper was dead. My brother was dead.

I continued screaming until darkness held me in its welcome embrace.

THIRTY

DEATH TO LIFE

DR. JONATHAN WADSWORTH’S LABORATORY,

HIGHGATE

23 NOVEMBER 1888

“Use the larger bone saw to cut the cranium.”

Uncle’s hands twitched, but he didn’t reach for the blade. He knew I needed the distraction more than he needed to perform this postmortem. I took a deep breath and pushed with all my might, moving the serrated edge back and forth.

This time I wore a facial mask to avoid breathing in bone dust.

I’d watched Uncle do this procedure many times now and had learned there were some things I did not wish to be exposed to.

Two long weeks had passed since we’d buried Nathaniel next to Mother. Father was more remote than ever and I was slowly losing myself to insanity. The house felt empty, sullen, as though mourning its own loss. It was amazing how much one person could fill up a space and leave it so hollow when they were gone.

Nothing was the same, nor ever would be again. Not only did I lose my brother, I had to suffer through the knowledge of the murderer he’d been the last months of his life. Lord Edmund covered up Nathaniel’s involvement, I didn’t ask how. One day I’d let everyone know the truth, but the pain was too raw now.

A tear slid down my cheek, but I continued sawing into the skull, not bothering to wipe it away. Some days were better than others. On good days I only cried myself to sleep. On the bad I found myself tearing up randomly throughout the day.

“Good. Now lift the top part of the skull up,” Uncle said, motioning toward the top half. It reminded me of the small side of an egg. “Might offer some resistance at first, but it’ll suction off with the right amount of pressure. Stick the scalpel in and pry it.”

I did as I was instructed. The top of the skull pulled off with a slurping noise, not unlike a sealed jar being opened. An unpleasant scent lingered in the space around us, apparent even through my mask.

Thomas coughed, drawing my attention briefly to him. Truthfully, I’d forgotten he was even here. He’d been quietly perched in the corner of the laboratory, writing notes and studying my brother’s journals. I couldn’t bear to read them just yet, though from what I’d heard they contained breakthrough science.

My brother’s Autumn of Terror might end up being used for good one day after all. It was Thomas’s hope he’d be able to perform a successful transplant on a living person during his lifetime. I didn’t doubt it.

Uncle handed me a tray and I set the upper portion of the skull on it. “Now, you’ll want to remove this little piece of the brain… here.” Uncle used a scalpel to point out the specimen.

I plucked the scalpel from his hands and brought it to the brain when a knock came at the door. A servant popped her head in and forced her eyes to the ground. I couldn’t blame her; there was nothing beautiful about decay.

“Lord Wadsworth is in the parlor. He’d like to speak with Miss Audrey Rose, sir.”

Uncle made an exasperated sound and tossed his hands in the air. “Then tell Lord Wadsworth he’ll either have to wait or bless us with his presence in the laboratory. This cannot hold.”

The maid dared a glance at the mortuary table where I was standing, my apron bloodied and my hands stained in death. I could see her throat bob when she swallowed. “Very well, sir. I’ll tell him.”

Before Uncle could utter another word, she disappeared back up the stairs. Thomas met my gaze and offered a wary smile. If Father was here, that meant I was in trouble and would be dragged back to my gilded prison, kicking and screaming if need be. I sighed. Father was bound to notice my absence sooner or later, and I was hardly hiding my activities from him as I used to.

“I might as well go to him, Uncle. Thomas can finish this lesson for me.”

I untied my apron and pulled it over my head. There was no need to give Father another reason to shout about my unladylike fascination with forensic medicines. I went to place the apron in the laundry bin, and Thomas gently took it from me, his fingers lingering on my gloveless hands. I lifted my gaze and found him staring down into my eyes. Even in the wake of all I’d lost, my heart found the will to beat rapidly at his touch.

“It’ll all work out,” he said softly, then grinned. “I could always have a word with your father. I’m not surprised he fancies me. I am rather hard to resist.”

I snorted, removing my hand from his. “I should like to see you sit down to tea with my father. Perhaps you could even tell him how many times you’ve indecently asked for a kiss.”

“You mean how I’ve successfully received a kiss, I believe. If that’s what the lady wants, I shall act immediately.” Thomas shrugged and made to walk up the stairs, but I grabbed him and pointed to where Uncle was huffing across the room.

“If you don’t go over there and assist him”—I nodded in Uncle’s direction—“I fear he may start throwing things.”

“Admit it. You’re afraid your father will love me and we’ll be betrothed before the night is through.” Thomas leaned closer, his lips tickling my ear in the most inappropriate manner as Uncle cleared his throat. “I rather fancy the thought of more adventures with you, Miss Wadsworth.”

I shook my head. Of course now he’d address me properly. The fiend. He pressed a chaste kiss to my hand, then stalked off toward my uncle, taking my place near the exposed brain.

I watched him remove a piece of it before silently making my way upstairs. I’d miss him terribly and a new wave of grief flooded my system. Nathaniel was gone and now Father would banish me from my apprenticeship, taking Uncle and Thomas from me as well. I had nothing.

I reached the top of the stairs and halted. Father’s broad form blocked the doorway, imposing as ever. I twisted Mother’s ring, all too aware it probably had droplets of dried blood on it.

Father glanced over my shoulder, then settled his attention on me. He needn’t say a thing. His emotions were clearly written across his face. Anyone could read their meaning. I held a hand up, tired and defeated.

Nathaniel involved himself in science and ended up buried. Perhaps it was a sign I needed to give it up as well. I was tired of fighting both society and life. Giving in felt weak, but the gaping hole in my chest swallowed any burning desire to carve my own path.

“Please. Spare me from the lecture this once. I am a shameful creature who does not deserve our good name.” My breath hitched in my throat. I’d not cry now. Not like this. “You were right, Father. Nothing good can come from such wicked pursuits. Perhaps if Nathaniel hadn’t been obsessed with such things he’d still be alive and well now. I will not disobey your wishes again.”

For the first time, I meant what I said. I was not crossing my fingers behind my back, or willing to beg forgiveness later. I’d find another profession and another path to take in life. I did not fool myself into thinking I’d ever be content with staying home and tending to the house, but I’d search for some other way to fulfill my soul.

Father reached for me and I flinched. His eyes grew misty. “Have I been so cruel that you fear me?” I shook my head. He’d never hit me, and I felt a new wave of shame for flinching away from him. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

He pulled an envelope from his overcoat pocket and inhaled deeply. “After your mother died, it was as if each shadow grew talons and claws and was threatening to steal away everything I loved.”

Father stared at the envelope in his hands. “Fear is a hungry beast. The more you feed it, the more it grows. My misguided intentions were good, but I’m afraid they didn’t turn out as I’d planned.” He tapped his heart. “I thought by keeping you close, keeping you safe in our home, I could protect you from such monsters.”

A few moments passed and I longed to reach out and hold him. To say something, but couldn’t. There was something about this moment that felt too fragile, a bubble of soap floating above bath water.

He stood straighter and finally met my gaze. “Did you know I spoke with your uncle last week?”

I drew my brows together. “I’m afraid he didn’t mention it.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Father’s mouth. “It’s about time the ornery fool listened to me.” He handed me the envelope. “I asked him to put in a good word for you. You’re brilliant and beautiful and life has countless possibilities for you. Which is precisely why I’m sending you away.”

The stairwell spun before my eyes and I nearly swayed backward. This was so much worse than I could’ve imagined. Panic cinched my lungs together.

“You cannot send me away!” I cried. “I promise I’ll be good. No more corpses or postmortems, or police investigations. I swear!”