The Knock at the Door, A Life Unveiled

Bloom gave her granny a sidelong glance. The words "just thinking," she whispered.

Sarelle whispered softly, "Sweetheart, you know you can tell me if anything's bothering you."

Bloom nodded, but she wasn't sure her grandmother could really understand the weight on her shoulders.

Even though Julian had been betrayed three days before, the sting was still as acute as it had been at the beginning. In order to find a suitable haven, she saddled Moonlight and rode her to a weeping willow, where she spent hours sobbing under its drooping branches. She had the impression that only the trees could comprehend her once more.

Why, why, why did I once again put my trust in the wrong people? Bitterly, she wondered. All it needed for her to lose herself was a smile.

There was more to it, though. Something had changed in her after meeting Julian; she was starting to feel better, even happier. Drake Clearbrook has never been betrayed as deeply as he was by him. The pain of losing her husband and child was far worse than Drake's betrayal, but Julian had been a confidante and a friend. That was gone now.

She spoke, desperate to change her mind. Did you notice anything about the woman who handed me to you, Grandmama? "What did she say?"

With her fork paused in mid-snack, Sarelle looked up from her meal. "Well, she looked rich, so I can’t imagine she gave you up because she was poor—if that’s what you’re wondering." Her grandma used to say things that were supposed to be consoling, but occasionally they landed like stones and caused bruises instead. "And no, she didn’t say much, as far as I recall."

Bloom scowled. It appears that he was correct, she thought, pushing the idea to the back of her mind so she wouldn't have to think about it any longer. Anyway, who gave a damn? Considering how they treated her, it scarcely seemed worth being a noble.

But the days she spent without Julian just made her pain worse. She missed him—missed being able to confide in him without fear of rejection or banishment, to share ordinary moments or whisper amazing truths. Her eyes filled with tears, as they had done on and off for the preceding few days. She quickly blinked them back.

She said, "Grandmama, I need to see Gail," without warning. "I forgot—I promised I’d meet her." She didn't care that it was a lie, though. She had to get away.

"Dear, I get it. Would you mind bringing along some cookies? I already made too many.

Bloom picked up a handful of cookies, thanked her grandmother, and slipped out the door. She let out the tears she had been holding back during dinner, and they fell in hot, wretched streams down her cheeks.

Her voice was shaking as she reprimanded herself out loud, "You knew he was a noble," "You fell for it even though you knew he would never consider you to be a good person. "When will you learn, stupid girl?"

"Maybe he didn't mean it," a hushed voice said. She would have immediately responded with a rejoinder if it had been stated by a commoner.

Nobles, however, were not like that. He repeatedly hurt her till their alleged friendship turned to animosity and threats. Even if the deed broke her heart, it was better to cut it immediately.

Her steps were heavy as she walked slowly through the town. She turned toward the one person who might be able to relate to her suffering. The sky was painted in brilliant oranges and golds as the sun sank low. The streets had a melancholy feel to them as the sun faded and cast shadows over them. Gently, she knocked on Gail's door.

Over her shoulder, Gail screamed, "Just a minute, Finn, hold that thought," as she opened the door. She swung the door wide after noticing the tears on Bloom's face. "Make that a little longer," she yelled back.

Finn grumbled softly from the kitchen, but he didn't protest. Bloom trailed after Gail into the tiny bedroom, a peaceful retreat.

"What’s wrong?" Gail wrapped a tight embrace around Bloom and requested.

Bloom sobbed as she told her story, burying her face in Gail's sensible shoulder. Gail comforted her by stroking her hair till the tears stopped.

Gail said, "Lily, it sounds like you're in love."

Bloom gave a violent shake of her head. "No, my darling, Nolan, is no longer with me. My dears, I miss him. She wiped her nose and sniffed.

Gail let out a sigh. I've witnessed it a hundred times. It's as common as grass for someone you fell in love with to break your heart.

"What kind?" Bloom made a feeble attempt at humor by laughing through her tears.

Gail gave a small smile. "It required work. You have to get over what he said and accept it as true, Lily. I'm positive he didn't mean it, even though it was terrible. Would you have been thus devastated if I had said it?"

"N—no—"

"Then give him an opportunity. Sometimes we all say stupid things. I thought he was really kind.

"But—"

"No buts," Gail interrupted in a stern voice. "Consider what I just stated. Now, the only thing you can do is try to forgive him.

Bloom considered it. Do you have feelings for Julian? No, that isn't possible. She only experienced love once, and Nolan's was it. She was also too wounded to even look at Julian, much less forgive him.

Intransigently, she shook her head. "I no longer wish to see him. He is not the object of my adoration. I adore Nolan. Darren, too. And you, Finn, Rory, and Grandmama. Nobody else.

Gail sighed and said, "Girl, you're doing yourself a disservice." "But let's move on to more joyful topics since you won't listen to me on this. Finally, Finn came up with a workable solution.

Bloom became alert at the change of subject. After enjoying her grandmother's cookies and talking with Gail and Finn for a time, she declared she had to leave. Night was dangerous, and darkness had descended. It was true that she had a secret weapon, but if the murderer had magic of his own, it was no guarantee.

She bid farewell and went out into the darkness. It was a minor blessing that her stroll home went smoothly. When she got home, she went upstairs, went into her bedroom, and fell into bed, giving herself over to sleep.