Silence filled the room, but it seemed nothing could be vast enough to contain the pain.
'That is why I killed him,' Eloise said at last. 'As soon as I was well enough, he took me out for a drive in the carriage. I pushed him off, and the other carriage and horses drove over him. It didn't kill him. It only crippled him. We brought him back here to lie in that bed upstairs, tormented with pain, knowing he would never walk again. I used to go in and look at him. He was paralyzed, did you know? He couldn't move, couldn't even speak. He would just stare at me with hatred so strong I felt it would burn his body up. My own brother, whom I had loved all my life. I stood at the end of the bed and stared back. I wasn't sorry. I hated myself, and I hated him. I even thought of killing myself. I'm not sure why I didn't do it. But I wasn't sorry for him. I couldn't pity him.
'I can still see my baby's body-in my mind. The doctor said I shall never have another. It was something they did.'
Charlotte moved at last. She walked around the coffin and closed the lid; then very gently she took Eloise's hand, holding it in both her own.
'Are you going to tell the police?' Eloise said quietly.
'No.' Charlotte put her arms around her and held her hard, the sobs inside her struggling to get out. She must control herself. She took a deep breath. 'No. He killed Mina-he would have been hanged for that anyway. It was wrong to kill him, but it's done now. I shall never speak of it again.'
Slowly Eloise relaxed and let her head rest on Charlotte's shoulder. At last, for the first time since she had seen the tiny body of her child, she began to weep.
For a long time, beyond counting, they stood together beside the closed coffin, letting the tears come, sharing the pain.
It was not until Inigo Charrington stood in the doorway, his eyes full of sympathy and affection, that at last Charlotte let go of Eloise.
