SWINDON, MARCH 14th, 1872
I wake up in the morning with a sour taste in my mouth. I don’t know why, but I already feel like the day ahead of me is going to be the most unpleasant. I toss to my side, deciding to wait for someone to come get me. I am not feeling like getting up just yet. Perhaps the bitterness inside me has something to do with what happened yesterday. With Ezra.
I press my lips tightly together as I think of him. That awful, disrespectful … Who am I kidding? His mysterious behaviour somehow pulled me even closer to him. Whether he meant to push me away with it or not, he failed miserably. Because now, I am even more determined to find out what makes me want him so much.
The thought seems to give me wings because I suddenly find myself getting up. Just then, some
