Katie said nothing. She knew she couldn’t take her own life.

Alexis looked furious. “I can’t believe you did that. Do my feelings mean nothing to you? Do you know how much guilt I would feel to turn you? There would be no going back, and you and everyone who cares for you would blame me. I can’t deal with this any more.”

“What do you mean deal with this?” Katie asked.

“This, us. I knew a relationship was a bad idea. It’s too much.”

Katie was getting angrier by the second. “If loving me is too much for you, then go! Go back to being the stoic, emotionless Duca, who has no joy in her life. Go.” Katie’s anger fuelled her words, and she immediately regretted them when she saw the look of hurt on Alexis’s face.

Alexis sped off out of the room in a flash and left Katie standing there regretting her angry words.

“Why did I say that?” Tears filled Katie’s eyes.

She should have chosen her words more carefully. Everyone thought Alexis was this tough, stoic soldier, but only Katie knew that she was in fact a sensitive soul underneath it all, especially in love.

She should have been talking Alexis through her fear and her confusion over their new relationship, and instead she’d been rash and hurtful. She wanted to go back to her bedroom quickly so no one would see her tears, but just as she was about to leave the room, something caught her eye sitting on Alexis’s desk. She walked over and found a small hand-painted picture of a beautiful dark-haired young woman. Below it was signed Anna.

Katie wiped away her tears on the back of her hand. “So, this is Anna.”

Next to it was a lock of brown hair encased in glass.

This was why Alexis was terrified and scared she was going to lose her. Despite Alexis being much older in age, Katie felt she was more in tune with love, its consequences, and how they could make it work between them.

“I need to think.”

Katie put down the picture and said, “I’ll take care of her, Anna.”

* * *

Byron and Amelia were sitting on the couch, in front of the fire. Byron had her arms around Amelia.

“Do you need me to do anything for the funeral?” Byron asked.

Early that day, Byron had a phone call from the police commissioner to say Amelia’s parents’ bodies were being released from the authorities.

“No, Uncle Jaunty and Uncle Simon are going to help me. It’s funny—I mean strange. Nothing will change my upbringing and how repressive and loveless I thought it was, but I can now see they were showing me love in the only way they knew how.”

“Yes?”