"It would have, without us."
He was quiet for a long moment, then: "Fine. But if you collapse from your injured feet, I'm leaving you where you fall."
"Understood."
CHAPTER 5
He led her through the ruins of what had once been magnificent. The herb garden, now a tangle of woody stems and invasive weeds. The rose garden, where hips hung like drops of dried blood on thorny skeletons. The kitchen garden, its neat rows lost under a carpet of dead grass.
"My mother designed most of this," Gabriel said, stopping at what had once been a knot garden, its intricate patterns now an incomprehensible maze of overgrowth. "She passed when I was seventeen."
"I remember."
He glanced at her sharply. "You were already gone."
"I heard. Through letters from acquaintances."
"What friends?"
"People who weren't you."
It came out sharper than she'd intended. Gabriel's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. They walked in silence to the orchard, where gnarled apple trees reached skeletal branches toward the gray sky.
"That one," Gabriel said, pointing to a particularly large tree. "That's where we…"
"Carved our initials. Yes."
They approached the tree together. The carving with their initials engraved in the bark was still there, grown over but still visible.
"We were foolish." Gabriel said softly.
"We were children."
“There is no difference.”
Clara traced the letters with one finger. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if…"
"No."
“You disregard the truth.”
"Constantly."
The admission hung between them, dangerous and electric. Clara pulled her hand back, but Gabriel caught it, his fingers wrapping around hers.
"Your hands are freezing," he said.
"It's winter."
"And you're not wearing gloves because you're too proud to ask for them."
"I'm wearing a borrowed dress, living on charity, and cleaning your house for wages we haven't actually discussed. It is evident that any semblance of proper dignity has long since left.”
"No," he said, studying her hand with an intensity that made her stomach flip. "Your pride is intact. Battered, maybe. But intact. It's quite annoying, actually."
"Everything about me annoys you."
"Yes."
