Chapter twelve
“A penny for your thoughts, Melisande Bruno.”
“They’re worth a lot more than that, sir,” I replied, playing along.
He chuckled. “How greedy... You surprise me, Miss Holy...”
“I never claimed to be particularly devoted, sir,” I informed him. “We just have different ideas on the subject of forgiveness.”
“I smell holiness, Miss Bruno.” He challenged me with his gaze. His words hit me like fists, because they were filled with bitterness, anger and poison. I sought a valid argument against his cynicism. I was hard to find an effective one.
“Forgiving means opening up to the new, and perhaps the better,” I said uncertainly.
“An interesting theory, Miss.” He was obviously teasing me. “Is that what happened to you? Did you forgive your family and find something new and better
