MADNESS AND MERCY

PROLOGUE: LAST LAUGH

The last thing I remember is the smell of lavender and old paper – my favorite combination. I was ninety-two years old, sitting in my armchair by the window of my London flat, surrounded by books I’d collected over a lifetime of teaching English literature. Eleanor Vance, known to my students as “Professor Ellie,” had lived a quiet, decent life. I’d never hurt anyone, never raised my voice in anger, never done anything more exciting than publish a few essays on Shakespeare and run a book club for retirees.

When my heart finally slowed to a stop, I was holding a first edition of Hamlet, smiling at the words I’d memorized decades ago: “Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.”

Then darkness. Then chaos. Then laughter – wild, uncontrollable, bone-deep laughter that didn’t feel like my own.