The girl held the envelope she hadn’t seen in four years tightly against her chest and moved to leave the room when she heard her mother’s voice from behind. She turned back impatiently.
“He also came here.”
“What?”
“Nathaniel Cruz,” the woman sighed. “Not long after you left. He came here to look for you.”
Alex shut her eyes with pain as she recalled the time prior to her travel, so full of strife. She asked with a broken voice, “What did you say to him?”
“I told him the truth,” she confessed. “That you had left for Sweden, and weren’t coming back for a while.”
Alexis knew very well that the truth could be communicated in many ways, depending on the effect intended. She was also aware that Elisabeth Woodville was a master of such delicate verbal tricks. She paused, sensing it wasn’t
