“Hold on,” Julie said urgently, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the mystery. “I’m not finished yet! Everyone at the luncheon was desperate to know what had happened, but most of them never learned the full story—not for a long time. There was one person who did find out quickly, though, and that was Mrs. Durand. Two nights later, Mrs. Collingwood appeared at Mrs. Durand’s doorstep in New York, looking like a specter in her black mourning attire and carrying only a small leather suitcase. Mrs. Durand, naturally, welcomed her in with concern.”

Julie took a deep breath, her tone taking on a dramatic edge. “That night, Mrs. Collingwood, her face ashen and hollow, revealed everything to Mrs. Durand. But before I dive into that, there’s something crucial you need to know.”

Amanda leaned in, her curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

“Mrs. Collingwood had a son,” Julie said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “A son who was seventeen, not a baby, but a strapping young man. Great-aunt Lucia told me that Mrs. Collingwood had married at seventeen and was thirty-five at the time of the luncheon, though she looked much younger. That’s why we were mistaken about her age.”

Amanda’s eyes widened in disbelief. “She had a son?”

“Yes,” Julie confirmed. “And he wasn’t just anywhere; he was at Harvard College. At least, that’s what they believed. But on the very afternoon of the luncheon, as they were heading to the station, they saw a young man with striking yellow hair and bright brown eyes walking briskly in the opposite direction. He tipped his cap in a cheerful greeting, and Mrs. Durand whispered to Great-aunt Lucia that it was Fairfax Collingwood, apparently coming home earlier than expected. His excited, happy expression was unforgettable.”

Julie paused for effect, ensuring Amanda was hanging on her every word. “Now, back to Mrs. Collingwood and Mrs. Durand. When Mrs. Collingwood arrived at Mrs. Durand’s, she looked like a woman who had aged decades overnight. Her face was a mask of stone, and her demeanor was one of complete exhaustion.”

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Julie’s voice grew somber. “Mrs. Durand was alarmed and asked, ‘Oh, my dear, you’re in mourning? Have you lost someone?’

‘Yes,’ Mrs. Collingwood replied quietly, ‘I’ve lost my son. I need to leave immediately.’

Mrs. Durand was stunned. ‘But how could he be dead? We saw him just hours ago!’

Mrs. Collingwood’s response was chilling. ‘He is dead to me.’”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. “But what happened?”

Julie continued, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the story. “The Civil War had just erupted. With Fort Sumter’s surrender, Mrs. Collingwood, a staunch Confederate from South Carolina, had been planning to raise a militia and put her son in command. She kept it a secret, intending to surprise him. But that afternoon, she received a telegram from him. He had left Harvard and enlisted in the Union Army, planning to say goodbye before heading to the front. The shock was almost more than she could bear.”

Julie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “When Fairfax arrived that afternoon, the meeting was anything but cordial. He was passionate about the Union cause, having been raised in the North, and had no inkling of his mother’s fervent Southern loyalties. Their disagreement turned into a fierce argument. Mrs. Collingwood, unable to reconcile with his choice, disowned him on the spot, telling him never to see her again.”

Amanda’s eyes were wide with horror. “And then what?”

“After Fairfax left to pack, Mrs. Collingwood dismissed her servants and locked herself in her room until he was gone. She then began preparing to leave. She collected and hid her silver, packed a few essentials, and decided not to take much with her. By morning, she had the windows and doors of the house boarded up by a local carpenter, using materials she had prepped two years prior when she’d gone to Europe. The carpenter worked all day while she directed him, and by the time he finished, she locked up the house, took a train to New York, and went straight to Mrs. Durand.”

Julie fell silent, exhausted from the intensity of her recounting. Amanda was stunned, her mind reeling with the implications.

“So,” Amanda said slowly, “Mrs. Collingwood’s disappearance wasn’t just about leaving the house. It was a drastic reaction to her son’s betrayal and the war tearing apart her world.”

“Yes,” Julie said, nodding. “And the mystery of why she vanished so abruptly only deepens with every piece of the puzzle we uncover.”