Her phone was right beside her. For the first time, she dialed Victoria Turner''s number herself.
Victoria stared at the screen, momentarily frozen when she saw "Gwh" sh across the caller ID.
Celia was ying violin in the living room, the lilting notes filling the space. Not wanting to disturb the music or the call, Victoria quietly slipped out into the garden.
She nced at the phone again, almost unable to believe Gwyn would call her at this hour.
With trembling fingers, she unlocked the screen. "Mom, it''s me-Gwyn-"
She barely got the words out before her voice wavered, thick with emotion.
Victoria, always sensitive to her daughter''s moods, instantly sensed something was wrong. "What is it, Gwyn? Has something happened?"
Just hearing her name spoken so gently shattered Gwh''sposure. She fought hard to swallow her sobs, biting her lip so her mother wouldn''t hear her crying.
On the other end, Victoria heard only silence and wondered if the call had dropped.
Then Gwh spoke again, her voice steady, as if nothing was wrong. "I''m okay. I''m doing well in Greenvale. I''ve made friends, and I found a great job. You don''t need to worry about me. I just... I just wanted to say I miss you, and Dad, so much."
She rushed through the words and held the phone away from her face, terrified her mother would hear her tears.
Victoria sat there for a long moment, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. Finally, voice trembling, she said, "Gwyn, when you''ve had enough time away,e home, sweetheart. Your dad misses you, and so do I. Auntie and Chris, and especially Celia-they''re always asking when their big sister''sing back."
What weighed on Victoria most was always Gwh. Her daughter''s thoughts and feelings were a mystery-she had McNeil''s quiet strength, but also Victoria''s sensitivity.
As a child, Gwh had been lively and stubborn, fiercely opinionated, loving and hating with equal passion. Even when she was wrong, she stood firm. Now she was still stubborn, but instead of confronting things, she chose to run away.
Victoria was at a loss. All she could do was hold Gwh gently, letting her make her own choices, never scolding, never pushing.
Over the years, Gwh had been the least of Victoria''s worries-she excelled at school and managed her life independently, always looking out for her younger siblings.
Victoria saw everything her daughter did. By anyone''s standards, Gwh was an exceptionally mature and considerate child. And yet, Victoria couldn''t help but worry, because since she was six, everything Gwh did seemed like she was trying to make up for something-as if she was forever atoning for a mistake no one med her for. It was far too cruel for a child to carry
such a burden. Victoria, least of all, would never hold a child
ountable for an innocent
mistake.
But as her mother, she felt powerless to free Gwh from her guilt.
She wanted to tell her, "No one has ever med you. None of this is your fault.”
If she had to sum up her and McNeil''s lives in a single word, it would be "fate."
"I might only have a few more months left. Is Celia there?"
Victoria wiped her tears away gently. "She is—she''s practicing. I can go get her if you''d like."
"No, it''s okay, Mom. I''ll bring presents for everyone when Ie back. I''ve got to go now I have something to take care of."
She ended the call quickly, not trusting herself to speak any longer. As soon as the line went dead, the tears she''d kept at bay fell in a torrent.
"Mom, I can''t go back. I don''t deserve to go back."
“If you miss home, then go home. Why would you ever think you don''t deserve it?"
At the doorway, a tall man stood watching her.
His features were sharp, his eyes
usually cold, but right now there was a softness there Gwh had never
seen. Startled, she realized her. cheeks were wet with tears, and under Hawthorne''s gaze, she flushed bright red.
When had hee in? How much had he heard?