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from my father with bad news. He wrote to me that my
dear younger brother William had died. He had been
murdered. His locket with the picture of our mother he
always had around his neck was also stolen. Reading the
letter broke my heart.
I hurried home to Geneva. It had a strange feeling
coming back home, where I hadn’t been for six years.
It was stormy the night I returned. Suddenly I stopped.
A figure was hiding behind a tree. ‘I cannot believe
it!,’ I thought. It was the monster I created. Was he my
brother’s murderer? I knew that he was. No human could
have killed my beautiful brother. The monster I had
created two years earlier disappeared into the darkness.
When I met my family, they told me that the murderer
had been found. Justine, our loyal and devoted maid,
was accused of the murder.
I told them, ‘No she can’t have done it. Nobody will
believe that.’
