Chapter 12Frye hardly slept that night. Exhaustion hovered at the edge of his awareness, but kept free from his grasp. Instead, he sat on the side of his bed and watched Markle. The man was restless in his dreams, likely haunted by the harsh truths Frye had forced upon him.
I could have been more diplomatic, he concluded. Broken the news more gently. But done was done. He didn’t necessarily regret it, it was best Markle knew the truth. But Frye’s behavior had been out of line. Sharpened, like a knife to stab, he’d wanted to hurt Markle, initially.
The kid had said such awful things. Casting the same accusations as the people of Frye’s village. Those fools hadn’t believed he was innocent; the thought never crossed their minds. If they doubted the words of Sabriea, they doubted the words o
