My mouth opened and closed. I didn’t know what to say to him. I wondered now if I’d ever really known what to say to him.

Hadn’t I seen how sparse words always were between Peter and me? Hadn’t I known it was a sign of everything else that was lacking?

I dropped my gaze and crossed my arms over my chest. “So everyone knows I’m leaving,” I mumbled. “I’m surprised you came.”

“My dad told me this morning. I wanted to catch you before you went.” Peter lifted a hand to my shoulder, uncertain at first, and then solid pressure. I reluctantly met his light brown eyes. “Selah,” he whispered again, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.” I tried to smile, to get the words out quickly, but my voice cracked at don’t.

“I know you want to know why, and I wish I could explain it.” Peter quietly cleared his throat. “I can only tell you that it wasn’t about you. That I had to make a choice for my family.”

The hollowness I’d felt the night before swelled inside me again, so bare and cold I thought the wind might echo through me like a reed.

“Can you ever forgive me?” Peter asked. He knitted his long brown fingers together, eyes sincere, lips pressed tight and unhappy.

He’d said this, over and over again, the night before. As if I wanted an apology instead of his affection.

As if he’d done me wrong, rather than return me to reality from the fantasy I’d been privately living.

I tried to see him standing there as Godmother Althea had insisted he was—cute and kind, a perfectly ordinary good heart. Just another boy.

I saw what she’d been trying to show me. But I also still saw him the same way I always had. He was perfect to me. A star of a boy. A king of a boy. The only boy I’d ever cared for.

Maybe a little distance wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“Peter, believe me when I tell you: there’s nothing to forgive.” I forced another smile and peeled my heart from the hands that had held it without knowing for so many years.

We both turned at the rattle of wheels and the clop-clop-clop of horse hooves. A carriage stopped at the edge of the pier, and Daddy and Alessandra climbed down.

My smother took in my appearance with a roll of her eyes before leading my father aboard.

“I have to go,” I finally said. “Take care.”

“Take care,” Peter said gently. And then he turned to go.

As Peter walked away, I dug my toes into the earth that had raised me, feeling Potomac’s soil beneath my feet for the last time for I didn’t know how long.