“I thought I was doing everything for my family by securing our wealth.”

“But I was leaving them behind.”

“You weren’t leaving them,” I said. “You were just grieving.”

“You brought life back into that house, Claire,” he said, turning around.

“The boys love you.”

“They look for you the moment they wake up.”

“I love them too,” I said. “As if they were my own.”

Daniel walked back to the bed.

He reached out and placed his hand over mine.

His palm was warm now, his grip steady.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Thank you for keeping your promise to her.”

I looked at our joined hands.

For the first time in three years, the weight on my chest felt a little lighter.

The secret was out.

He did not hate me.

He did not want to cast me out of his home.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened quickly.

Ruth stood in the doorway.

She was wearing her grey wool coat, her hat dripping with rain.

Her face was pale, and she was breathing heavily.

“Mr. Whitmore,” she said.