Martin was all for marching out, finding this man, and demanding explanations. “If he’s decent, he’ll come introduce himself,” he argued. I shook my head. “She’ll see it as betrayal,” I whispered. “And if his intentions aren’t good?” His voice trembled. Neither of us wanted to answer that.
Nora grew lighter, somehow, in those weeks. She carried herself with a new certainty, as though she’d discovered a compass the rest of us couldn’t see. That confidence frightened me more than anything. Confidence can be intoxicating and blinding, especially when misplaced. And what if he was the one feeding it?