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She gathers Leonie, and I am left stunned in the library, having no idea how to fix this, but I would never harm Leonie.
The thought that she thinks I might has my heart in a fist.
Not being able to focus on the words on the page, I close it and go to the garden.
On my knees, I tend to the plants, when a shadow falls on me. I raise my chin and Nora points at the garden.
“This could have been done better.”
“Then show me,” I say instead of telling her the Sisters taught me well.
A fine line digs between her brows while I rise to my feet and grab another pair of gloves.
I offer them to her, and her eyes switch from them to the garden. I sigh, prepared for her to turn me down.
She takes the gloves, and relief replaces the uncomfortable feeling. I watch her tending to the plants with care, talking to them.
“They love that. They react to pleasant sounds and even to intentions. There was this experiment done, and a flower recognized the person who killed another flower.”
I am stunned. This has been the longest she has talked to me, and with no trace of animosity.
I sit next to her while she says, “This garden is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re not Rebecca. And I am sorry about the way I treated you. You were an innocent child.”
“I am sorry for what they did to you.”
Her eyes seek mine. I am sure she’s looking for the lie she wants to detect, but she finds none.
She looks in the distance, a forlorn expression etched on her face. “It was her betrayal that shattered me. Rebecca was my best friend. And then she got herself killed and brought that man who has always been plain evil back to my door.”
“You’re afraid for Kieran.”
“Of course I am. He’s my boy.”
“He loves you too.”
She wipes at her eyes, fingertips glistening with the shed tears.
“You make him happy. I don’t remember the last time I saw Kieran like he is with you: carefree, young, happy, in love.”
My throat traps the words inside with the emotions thickening in my vocal cords.
“I’m sorry for my behavior.”
“Apology accepted.”
We work in a harmonious silence, plucking the withered weeds out and watering the plants. Leonie runs over and plops down next to us, insisting she wants to help. And until the sun sets, we make a new bed of freshly planted flowers.
This is how Kieran finds us, his eyes set on mine. I nod, assuring him I am all right.
“You sure you’re all right?” he asks on the way inside.
“She’s hurt, Kieran. Maybe we should invite them over more often.”
“My own personal beam of light,” he says, kissing my temple.
