Amala and Henry had never shared a private conversation since the day he’d found her crying in Kat’s room. In fact, they hadn’t so much as exchanged a glance in spite of all the meals where they’d sat at the same table, all the time spent with the family—whether visiting or participating in their private Sunday service—and all the times they had both ended up in the nursery together to play with Harry. Recalling his declaration that they should talk more and help each other through this—since she was his best friend—his behavior seemed especially contradictory. They exchanged necessary, appropriate words as if they’d never been friends at all; as if they weren’t as good as brother and sister, the way they’d become prior to Kat’s death. She assumed he was managing all right in regard to his own grief, although her father mentioned once that he was concerned about Henry for reasons he didn’t expound upon. He’d taken to leaving on a horse nearly every day—sometimes after breakfast, and sometimes after lunch—and being gone for a couple of hours, with the only explanation being that the fresh air and speed of riding helped clear his head. But he’d become very quiet. Amala wondered if he was grieving privately, much as she was. But she longed to talk to him, to share their thoughts and feelings, and she couldn’t help being confused over the fact that the last time they’d spoken privately, he had admitted the same to her. And then he’d left her alone and had not said a personal word to her since.

Amala had to assume his behavior toward her was directly related to Kat’s desire for them to marry. But Amala had no idea how to feel about all of that, and she certainly didn’t know what to do. She had definitely convinced herself a long time ago that marrying him was not a good idea, and she’d apparently done a good job of convincing him. She’d broken his heart, and he had put all of that behind him. She had no reason to believe that Kat’s request would prompt such a man to change his beliefs on any matter. And she certainly didn’t want him feeling obligated to marry her simply because her sister had asked him to. She also had to consider that even if he decided he was all right with the possibility, she wasn’t certain that her original concerns weren’t just as valid now as they’d ever been.

When Kat had been gone more than two months and signs of spring were beginning to show, Amala still didn’t feel anything but sorrow and confusion. Paulina and her parents had often urged her to talk to them, but she had resisted, insisting there was nothing to talk about. But on a rainy afternoon, Paulina found Amala alone in Kat’s room, staring out the window. Her aunt sat down nearby and said, “I’m not leaving this room until we get to the bottom of whatever is troubling you.”