Time had thinned her, but it was her.
Mrs. Whitmore looked at Ethan first. Her mouth trembled.
“She’s awake, but she’s weak.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” she whispered.
Ethan stepped closer. “Hi.”
Then she looked at me, and all that old pride was gone.
“Devon,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
I crossed my arms. “You should be. You really should be.”
She nodded like she’d expected nothing else.
Ethan spoke before I could. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why do you have a different surname from us?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes filled. “Because I was a coward after I was proud, and I changed back to my maiden surname before I moved in next door.”
No one spoke for a second.
Then she said, “My husband made cruelty easy. I let him. When Jeremiah chose you, Devon, I should have chosen him too.”
I stared at her. “So you moved next door to us.”
“Yes.”
“And you watched us?”
“My husband made cruelty easy.”
She closed her eyes. “I told myself distance was kinder. Truthfully, it was easier.”
Ethan looked down at his letter, then back at her. “You wrote that Dad was gentle when nobody was looking.”
She smiled through tears. “He was.”
He swallowed. “You should’ve told me that sooner.”
