“Clara,” she whispered. “Clara Hale.”
She offered him the sealed envelope. “Reverend Amos sent this. He said you should read it straight away.”
Elias took it, noticing how her fingers trembled. Up close he could see the bruised shadows under her eyes, the way travel and worry had carved hollows into youth.
Behind them, another round of laughter rose. The boys were enjoying themselves too much to notice what they were doing to a human being.
Something in Elias tightened. A memory, maybe, of being the quiet boy watched like prey.
He stepped closer to Clara and, without thinking too hard to be afraid of it, he reached down and took her hand.
She startled, as if touch had been something used against her.
Elias lifted their joined hands high, his voice ringing out across the depot.
“This is my bride.”
Silence dropped like a curtain. Even the boys stopped, startled by defiance from the mountain hermit they’d labeled harmless.
