How To Survive This Fairytale

Chapter 47

Forty-Seven

Gertrude does not sob. The corner of her mouth twitches. Her eyes grow misty. Her gloved fingers lace tightly together, as tightly wound as a shirt sewn out of thorns.

“Leave me,” she says.

“It is a good ending,” you mutter.

“For who?”

“It is a good ending. A chosen ending.” Your eyes burn through her until she looks at you, and even then, it’s only a glance to acknowledge her shame. “You and I figured out we had choices and we made them. Cyrus gets to make his choices, too.”