Free July by Gabrielle Lord

Singularity was? Or what it was about? Please, it’s crucial I find out.’
    Outside the convent window, magpies were carolling.
    ‘I left all family matters behind when I entered the convent,’ she said. ‘All the papers, all the information on the Ormond Singularity, were put away. In a big envelope.’ The old woman took a deep breath. ‘I couldn’t help him. I only remembered it being spoken about when I was a girl.’
    ‘Do you remember what was said about the Ormond Singularity?’
    ‘Only that it was a secret kept in our family —a deadly secret. It has been the death of all of the Ormonds who have tried to unravel it. It should remain a secret.’
    I shivered. It killed your father. It’ll kill you , the staggering man had warned me on New Year’s Eve.
    ‘And that’s how I knew he must be dead,’ she continued. ‘Because anyone who starts to investigate the Ormond Singularity … winds up in a casket …’ My great-aunt’s voice trailed off and she stared silently out into the distance through the window near her chair.
    So many people wanted me dead. I knew that already. But was she saying the Ormond Singularity killed Dad?
    I waited a moment before changing tack. ‘Do you have any information about a relative of ours—Piers Ormond?’
    ‘Our family is full of secrets,’ she whispered, ‘and the Ormond Singularity is the deadliest secret of all. My grandfather, may he rest in peace, warned me of that.’ She stopped for a moment. ‘Piers gathered a lot of information about the Ormond family.’
    ‘Do you know anything about his will?’
    I took one of her frail hands in mine, but her glazed eyes showed her attention had drifted away again.
    ‘Sister, do you know anything about what the Ormond Singularity is?’ I was still hopeful my questioning might stir up old memories, old files, stored deep in her mind.
    ‘Come closer, nephew,’ she beckoned. I shuffled in, heart racing. Did she have some information after all? ‘The Ormond Singularity is the great secret of the Ormonds.’
    ‘But what is it?’ I persisted.
    ‘Did Bartholomew send you?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said, awkwardly, not wanting to have to tell her that the lethal Ormond secret had killed him too. I recalled the old man lying on the floor as the flames raced through his house downstairs. ‘He told me you were like the family historian and that you looked after all the family papers and documents, including information about Piers Ormond’s will.’
    ‘Do you know we’re twins?’ she said with a smile, dismissing what I’d just said. ‘ Bartholomew and I.’
    ‘Twins?’ I asked, surprised.
    Her smile quickly transformed into something much more serious and fearful.
    ‘I heard,’ she said, nodding, and looking deep into my eyes, ‘about the two babies. Something terrible happened.’
    The newspaper clipping—had it been aboutthem? Bartholomew and Millicent? It had looked old, but not that old, and I’d been feeling more and more like it had something to do with me .
    ‘Who were those babies?’ I asked. ‘They were twins—you and Barty?’ I suggested. ‘What happened to them?’
    She shook her head slowly, but I wasn’t sure whether it was in response to my question, or a reaction to the memory.
    The old nun started weeping, and then in a quavery voice she started singing.
    ‘Two little lambs in the cold night frost, one was saved and the other one lost.’
    The song unnerved me. It was haunting, and somehow familiar, even though I’d never heard it before. Almost as quickly as she’d started singing, my great-aunt stopped, looking at me in a puzzled way.
    ‘Tell me, again. Why are you here?’
    I was frustrated, confused, spooked. For the moment, I had to leave the mystery of the abducted babies behind and concentrate on why I had come.
    ‘I hoped you had important family documents,’ I reminded Sister Mary Perpetua, ‘that could help me. You said there was an envelope?’
    ‘All of my things have been