I have not left her room since the physicians said she might wake. Mother keeps asking me to rest, but she has shown more concern for the family’s reputation than for the poison still in my sister’s blood. When her eyes finally open, relief makes it difficult to breathe. She recognises the room, but she looks at me as though she is searching for a memory that is not there. Even the way she speaks sounds unfamiliar. I tell the servants to leave and lock the door before Mother can return. “You are safe with me, but I need you to tell me what you remember from last night.”