“LET HIM GO!”
Isaiah’s eyes snapped open.
Clara stood at the edge of the clearing, breathless, wild-eyed, her hair tangled, her dress torn, Samuel at her side.
Her father turned slowly.
“Clara,” he said. “Come here.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Clara—”
“No,” she said again, louder this time. “You will not touch him.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
Clara stepped forward. “I understand perfectly.”
Her father lifted the pistol.
Clara didn’t flinch.
“You shoot him,” she said, “and you lose me forever.”
The clearing went silent.
Her father’s hand trembled.
The overseer shifted uneasily.
Samuel stepped closer to Clara.
Isaiah stared at her, his heart breaking and healing all at once.
Clara lifted her chin.
“This ends now,” she said.
Her father’s jaw clenched.
And the forest held its breath.