My mouth hangs open stupidly, and Ingrid is obviously in shock too. Why would she choose to speak to me after refusing to speak to her family for so long?
To defend her brother, it would seem.
“How can you be sure he's really done?” I ask, not sure how far I can push the broken little wolf.
"Because he cares about you," she says in a mournful little voice, then turns toward a nearby fountain in the center of the courtyard. In the center of the cascading water is a giant stone angel that bears a striking resemblance to my mom.
Frances sits on the side of the fountain, running her fingertips gently over the surface of the water. I follow, taking a seat beside her. We both look down at the fish as they swim around her hand. They seem drawn to her quiet serenity.
She inhales deeply, and
