Chapter 32
Fiona read the letter three times, her hands shaking.
He was coming for her.
Mrs Blackley believed it. He was gathering his courage, preparing himself, working toward the step he had been unable to take before.
Or perhaps he was not. Perhaps he would falter again, as he had so often in the past. Perhaps fear would triumph once more, and she would spend the rest of her life waiting for a knock that never came.
But there was hope.
After weeks of emptiness—of going through the motions, of pretending to be well when she was anything but—there was hope.
She pressed the letter against her heart and closed her eyes.
Please, she thought. Please, Christian. Be brave. For both of us.
And somewhere in the distance, as though in answer, thunder rolled across the London sky.