Chapter 128 Forgiven

• “It wasn’t you,” she whispered, voice thick. “It was him. My uncle. Horace is the devil… not you.”
• She moved toward him, each step slow but sure, until she was close enough to touch him. Gently, she slid her hands under his arms and helped him up. He stood, stiff with shame, his eyes searching hers for some kind of absolution.
• She didn’t speak. Instead, she rose onto her toes and kissed him, soft, lingering, full of all the words she couldn’t yet say.