That first, single question caused her whole frame to seize; doubts swarmed in immediately. Despite knowing her uncle was still talking, she was only distantly processing it.
Should she have told her father? Was… was she supposed to? Did she need his permission to be here? She’d assumed— the letter had read like, as if this were a secret matter for them discuss beforehand, before news got around… Merlin’s beard, had she misread the whole thing? A larger part of her knew she hadn’t, but the louder voice in her had persisted otherwise…
Her throat made a soft clicking sound as she swallowed, the gesture painful as her throat was still very dry. Crossing her arms nervously, she tucked her hands into her armpits and gnawed on the inside of her bottom lips.
At the mention of Gilbert’s rage, she hunched in a bit more on herself. Inside her chest, she could feel that familiar something rushing through her nerves, her veins, like a frightened bird, demanding flight because inaction was deadly. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, taking a deep and steadying breathe, trying to focus more on the rest of what Uncle Samuel was saying – instead of spiraling down into a pond of dread, as she was wont to do, when considering the consequences of her actions.
“No—no,” She finally murmured, filling the quiet in the wake of her uncle’s last words, “Father—you’re correct: he doesn’t know… Neither he nor Mother do.”
Rolling her shoulders in closer to her ears, she took several small steps towards the counter; if possible, she hugged herself tighter and fought down the urge to scuff a shoe as she tried to fight the rising tide of disbelief at the back of her mind. This all felt too good to be true, but she couldn’t turn back now – couldn’t let the flood of worst-case-scenarios drown the flickering flame of hope in her chest. Now more than ever, she wished Agatha was here, if only so she could have her reassuring face in her peripherals.
“If…” Merlin, this was going sound so dramatic… she almost didn’t continue, but knew she had to know certain things before jumping feet first into this decision. “I may not be… able to go home, wh-if I accept… Where—where would I stay? With whom?”
Should she have told her father? Was… was she supposed to? Did she need his permission to be here? She’d assumed— the letter had read like, as if this were a secret matter for them discuss beforehand, before news got around… Merlin’s beard, had she misread the whole thing? A larger part of her knew she hadn’t, but the louder voice in her had persisted otherwise…
Her throat made a soft clicking sound as she swallowed, the gesture painful as her throat was still very dry. Crossing her arms nervously, she tucked her hands into her armpits and gnawed on the inside of her bottom lips.
At the mention of Gilbert’s rage, she hunched in a bit more on herself. Inside her chest, she could feel that familiar something rushing through her nerves, her veins, like a frightened bird, demanding flight because inaction was deadly. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, taking a deep and steadying breathe, trying to focus more on the rest of what Uncle Samuel was saying – instead of spiraling down into a pond of dread, as she was wont to do, when considering the consequences of her actions.
“No—no,” She finally murmured, filling the quiet in the wake of her uncle’s last words, “Father—you’re correct: he doesn’t know… Neither he nor Mother do.”
Rolling her shoulders in closer to her ears, she took several small steps towards the counter; if possible, she hugged herself tighter and fought down the urge to scuff a shoe as she tried to fight the rising tide of disbelief at the back of her mind. This all felt too good to be true, but she couldn’t turn back now – couldn’t let the flood of worst-case-scenarios drown the flickering flame of hope in her chest. Now more than ever, she wished Agatha was here, if only so she could have her reassuring face in her peripherals.
“If…” Merlin, this was going sound so dramatic… she almost didn’t continue, but knew she had to know certain things before jumping feet first into this decision. “I may not be… able to go home, wh-if I accept… Where—where would I stay? With whom?”