“The names of everyone who died at the Edevane estate, or because of them. It, uh...” He scratched the back of his head. “I buried Bellessa here. The girl who...”
“Who took her own life the night my brother died,” Elloven said, finishing for him.
He squinted at her sideways. “That’s one interpretation of events.”
“Poor Bellessa took her own life. You reacted in horror and without thinking, presuming it was Gennady who had done the deed, responded with violence, resulting in an outcome that was far more brutal than you intended. Is any of that an incorrect interpretation?”
“Simplified, surely.” He still hadn’t settled or stopped fidgeting.
“Did you bring her here that night?”
Jesstin nodded.
“Is this why you bought the place?”
Another nod.
“To keep her close?”
His whole body leaned into his exhale. “As a reminder.”
“A reminder?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Jesstin’s head shook at the ground. “You’d think after all these years, Sesto would learn to mind his damn business.”
“Don’t be upset with him.”
“Between this and the stuff with the children...”
“What stuff with the children? The ones you rescued from the fire?”
“No. Nothing. It’s nothing.” He swiveled his head her way with a haunted look. “Why are you here, Elloven?”
“My mother died today.” It wasn’t the answer, but she hadn’t said the words aloud yet, and he was the only one she felt should hear them.
“Damn,” he whispered, sitting straighter. “I’m sorry. I went to see her a month ago, and I knew she was close then.”
“You saw her?” Esme had conveniently failed to mention it.
“I wanted to see if she needed anything. Halfway there, I decided to tell her about Gennady, then lost my courage, but...” He looked astounded. “Then she he brought it up. She already knew. I assumed you’d told her, but she said she hadn’t seen you since we’d come back. Said she’d always known.”
“I wasn’t ready,” Elloven said. She closed her eyes. “But I stayed with her until the end.”
“And you? How are you holding up?”
“Better than I expected. But thank you.”
He smiled halfway. “You could have sent a note.”
“No, Jess,” she said slowly and turned toward him. “I needed to see you.”
“You saw me two days ago,” he muttered.
“Without a bloody dagger in your hand,” she replied with a sigh.
“Sorry for ruining your plan.” He cleared his throat. “Ah, actually, that’s a lie. I’m not sorry. Can I be sorry for not being sorry?”
Elloven laughed to herself and tightened her scarves against the chill. There was so much to say. She saw him sneaking searching glances at her, but it took courage to forgive, as much or more than to ask for it, because he had no obligation to accept it. It had been months since they’d last spoken. He might have moved on. He might never have loved her at all. It wasn’t uncommon for strong bonds to form in high-pressure situations, and it would be more than her tender heart could bear to learn she was the only one to have carried the love back into the real world.
