They all turned.
Adrian was in the back of the room.
He looked older than I remembered. His face was pale and the security he had once shown had disappeared.
For a moment, I was fifteen again.
I could almost hear the whispers of the village. I could feel the cold ground under my feet and see Margaret at the door, telling me that her son had left.
Adrian slowly moved towards us.
“My mother died two weeks ago,” he said.
No one moved.
Before he died, he told me everything.
His voice broke.
“She admitted that she knew Clara had suffered when she was a child. I knew Clara hadn’t fooled me. But he convinced me that marrying her would humiliate our family.
Adrian looked at me straight.
I was young, proud and cruel. But none of that justifies what I did.
He stopped several steps away.
I never asked you what happened. I never defended you. I abandoned you and allowed everyone to destroy your name.
My father finally raised his head.
Adrian’s eyes filled with tears.
“Clara, please forgive me.
For years I had imagined that moment.
I had seen myself screaming at him. I thought I would demand that I confess everything in front of the village or plead for the years I had stolen.
But while I was with Samuel, I realized that Adrian no longer controlled my life.
