Marcy shook her head as she thought. It was hard to imagine ever being past this time in their lives, of reaching a point when not everything would be about the fire, or her injuries, or Archie’s trial. “I’m wondering,” she said, “if we should make this a part of the forgiving process . . .” She broke off, not entirely sure if she meant what she was saying, if she even knew what the process was or how she felt about it. Of course, she knew the dictionary definition of forgiveness, and what it should entail, but words were easy, anyone could speak them, whereas actually connecting with that level of understanding and exoneration, making it real and relevant . . .

“No one’s saying you have to forgive anything,” Claudia told her gently.

Marcy’s eyebrows rose. “Isn’t that why we entered the RJ program?”

“Maybe. Yes, I suppose it is, but I know I’m still having a really hard time with it myself.”

Marcy frowned. “So, you’re not starting to forgive Archie?”

Claudia said, “I want this to be about you, Mum, not me. If forgiving, or working on forgiveness, helps you to move forward I’ll support you all the way, but it doesn’t mean that I feel the same.”

Marcy regarded her intently and allowed several minutes to pass. “I think,” she said eventually, “that what you’re actually having a difficult time with is being able to forgive yourself, but it wasn’t your fault, Claudia. None of it.”

“You say that, but if I hadn’t married Marcus . . .”

“You had no idea this would happen, none of us did. For heaven’s sake, you can’t carry that sort of guilt around with you forever, especially when it doesn’t belong to you. And if I thought you couldn’t let it go that would make everything a whole lot harder for me.”

Claudia’s eyes went down as the warning assailed her conscience, though she wasn’t sure it was making any difference. Sometimes she only had to look at her mother to feel a consuming, raging need to punish herself for having brought her to this.