“Maybe you should speak to someone,” Viola offered with a hint of trepidation.

She’d plucked the thought right out of my head.

Caro frowned. “Someone?” Her brow cleared, and her lips pressed together for a second in displeasure. “You mean a therapist?”

Viola and I shared a look, worried we’d scare Caro away. Coming to a silent decision, we both nodded.

Looking down at the floor, Caro whispered, “I’m scared.”

I swear I thought my chest might splinter with the aching pain I felt for her. Roane’s cousin was such a gentle soul. How could anyone do what that wicked woman had done to her?

“Anyone would be. But we’ll be here.” I reached across Viola to take Caro’s hand again. “You don’t have to go back there. We can get your stuff for you.”

Caro shook her head, and I felt my stomach drop with the fear she’d return to that woman. “No.” She tilted her chin up with a hint of stubbornness and looked between Viola and me. “I should go back. To get my things.” Her lips trembled. “There’s not much I want to take with me, but I have a few things I’d like to keep.”

Relief swamped me. “Do you want one of us to come with you?”

“I think I’ll need you.” Anger flashed across her eyes. “She has all the passwords to my bank account details. All the money that my mother and father left me. I haven’t been able to touch it.”

Fury ripped through me. “Excuse me?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I have three savings accounts and a checking account. She took away my bank cards, made me open online accounting, and then changed all the passwords so I couldn’t access them. Moreover, we set up investments with my money with a financial adviser, but she has all those details too.”

Something dawned on me. “Does she have money of her own?”

Caro took a shuddering breath. “Everyone thinks so because her parents had money, but the majority of it went to my mother because she was the eldest. That money went to me. Helena thinks of it as hers. The only thing she owns is the cottage.”

Now it all made sense. She didn’t want Caro to exert her independence because it would leave her with very little money.

“Does Roane know this?”

“He suspected, but I lied.” Caro’s face crumpled. “I told him she didn’t have access to my money.”

Yeah, I was so done. “Will you move in here?”

She blinked at my abrupt question but nodded slowly. “Yes.”

We would talk about therapy later. First things first. “Tomorrow, Roane and I will accompany you to the cottage. While I help you pack, Roane will get everything he needs from Helena regarding your finances.”

“What if she won’t hand it over?”

“Oh, she will,” Viola said. She looked at me, angry determination in her eyes. “Roane has a good friend on the police force at Alnwick. I’m sure he’d be willing to accompany you.”

I smirked. “That could work.”

“I don’t want anyone else to know.” Caro shook her head.

“It’ll only be Patrick, Caro. You know he won’t tell anyone.”

After a little back-and-forth, we got Caro to agree, and I disappeared into my bedroom to call Roane. When I was done telling him everything, I had to hold the phone away from my ear while he cursed and railed.

I wished in that moment I could be there in person to comfort him.

“Roane,” I soothed. “This is a good development. She’ll finally be out from under that woman’s thumb.”

“That won’t fix what she’s broken, Evie.”

“No it won’t. But it’s a start.”

“And she has Caro’s money—” He started cursing again. Then just as abruptly stopped. “I’ll be round tomorrow morning to pick you up. I want this over and done.”

“And this police officer Viola mentioned?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Well, I think it might be a good idea to have an officer of the law there to remind you that murder is a crime.”

He gave a snort of laughter. “Aye, you’re probably right.”

“Okay. Ten o’clock?”

“Aye. And, Evie.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

At his heartfelt gratitude I melted. “Roane, it wasn’t me. It was Viola.”

“No . . . you gave her the confidence to sell her baked goods at the market. Viola might have said the right words to get Caro to open up tonight, but you opened the floodgates long before that.”

“You think too well of me,” I whispered, worried for us both.

“You’re not perfect, Evie, rationally I know that.” He let out a long sigh. “But you’re perfect to me.”

My breath caught, and as I scrambled to find the words to reply to such a comment, Roane said gruffly, “See you in the morning.” He hung up.

I must have sat there for a while staring at the bedroom wall, wondering what on earth to do about Mr. Roane Robson, when Viola peeked her head in the room to ask for an update.