11
Harlow’s mouth closed. Every iota of emotion sank down through her. Like ice it trickled from her blank mind, through her chest, past her hardening heart, her rebellious guts, and out through her desperate-to-flee feet.
Unfortunately, fleeing wasn’t an option, neither was giving in to the crushing weight of numbness.
“Come with me,” Harlow said, like a stoic member of the household staff.
About facing, she went up the stairs, listening to Anwen grab her bag before she followed. Harlow went into her bedroom and held the door open, waiting next to it until Anwen came in. Every second she could use to absorb this new truth was a blessing.
Being as calm and measured as she could be, Harlow told herself not to jump to conclusions, which wasn’t hard given that she didn’t have a clue what
