112 | Like the lost pages of a book

Hyacinth’s POV

My world collapsed in on itself. He knew? How did he know?

And, if he knew, what did he think about it? Why was he bringing it up now? Was he angry? Happy? Sad? Confused?

I squinted at his face, trying to pick apart his emotions. It was carefully blank, which told me he was hiding how he felt, but not what was going on underneath that blank canvas.

Great.

And what should I say? Yes? No? Maybe? Roll again? Was this some sort of trick? Or trap? Was I still dreaming? Gah! I couldn’t see a way forward; the path was blocked by words and options and imagined scenarios playing out, as thick as a thorny hedgerow.

‘Try talking to him, doll. Just be honest. He’s asked for a reason. He wants to talk about it with you. Is this not what you wanted?’

I squirmed under Dolly’s scrutiny. It was what I’d wanted – but, oh my goddess, it terrified me. I’d tried to leave this behind, but it had followed me regardless.

Was that what fate was? Was it the fact that any choices I made would alw