So he was anywhere but India, Theo thought to himself, as if that narrowed anything down. Not only had he planned his secret voyage out, he’d planned his own death with the lawyer, sorted his affairs as though this were a kind of suicide. He had done this for them, he seemed to be saying, but – but this wasn’t fair.

He had taken the letter from her, and read the last few lines in his head. He managed to pull his gaze up to her face for a moment – she looked like she might pass out – but wordlessly he passed his letter from his father to her in return, almost glad to be rid of it. He didn’t want Veronica to read the plea to consider her family, but what did it matter now? The rest was just as important to hear. Maybe she would see something he had not in it.

“He can’t just – he can’t do this,” Theo declared, eyes wild, pulse racing. He started moving down the hallway, lurched for the door of his father’s study. He had only had a day’s headstart, if that. Wherever he had gone, there must be some trace of it. Theo would – interrogate the lawyer, ransack his desk, find some proof of his real plans amongst his things. His hands were shaking as he tried to open the drawers.

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