For a moment, Maggie was convinced his uncertainty meant there was nothing left for them. Her bleak future stretched before her with a clarity she had never known. Was this how Percy felt as he walked away from her that afternoon? As he witnessed her sign her life away to another? Sharp pangs of grief tore through her — a grief not unlike the devastating loss of her daughter. Maggie hadn't felt this pain for Edmund, not even for a second. And yet, the prospect of living the remainder of her days without Percy was enough to nearly cause her knees to weaken beneath her.

But then, he reached for her. His palm felt like fire upon her skin, its heat blazing through her entire body. Surely, he wouldn't have touched her if he meant to leave her? Even Maggie at the height of her foolish teenaged years knew better than to reach for him as he walked away. "Percy..." she whispered, not entirely sure what she was asking. This, a loving touch, was entirely new to her. Maggie stepped towards him again, now close enough to grip his jacket if she so chose.