SWINDON, MARCH 19th, 1872
“You what?!” Felicity squeals in excitement, quickly covering her mouth and glancing at the door of the pantry. But I know no one heard her outside. In fact, the maids are so loud on the other side of the corridor, that the sound of their voices travels all the way to us. “I can’t believe you got him to kiss you. So? What happened then?” she continues asking much more quietly, clearly not realizing that this story doesn’t have a happy ending.
“I didn’t … I am the one who kissed him … He pushed me away and left. I couldn’t catch up with him, because he simply disappeared,” I finally explain, the feeling of misery burning inside my chest. I am bruised and hurt from the fall, but nothing pains me as much as Ezra’s rejection. I feel as if I have already hel
