CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Genevieve stared up at the gleaming lights of the castle’s torches, not wanting to go up to it, but not able to look away.
“You’re still not sure, are you?” Sheila said.
Genevieve didn’t answer for a moment or two, because she knew what she had to say, and it wasn’t the same as what she felt in that instant. Her instinct was to turn and run, but that instinct wouldn’t help anyone.
“You could still do it,” Sheila insisted. “You could still take the root, still run, still be free of him.”
Genevieve shook her head. “He would find me, and anyway, I need to be there if I’m going to influence any of this.”
It was like they’d decided before: she would go back and be everything she needed to be until her child was born. She would arrange things so that she would have control
