Shock filled his face. “On my honor, I did not kill your mother.”
I continued to stare at him, searching for any sign of deception. He had changed so much in the past months that I almost pitied him. His face was pale and sunken in from weight loss, exaggerating his eyes and giving them a haunted look. Beneath this altered surface, I caught a glimpse of his earnestness and knew he spoke the truth about my mother. Maybe her death really had been an accident like everyone thought. With nothing more to say, I turned to go.
“I think I know who did though,” he said quietly. His words stopped me cold.
Slowly, I turned back around. Was this just another of his games? “And who would that be?”
“The same person who’s been sending letters to me for the past year. The last time he wrote, he said something about having already drowned two evils, that it was now my turn to act.”
My knees began to give out, and if not for Henry I would have surely fallen to the floor. “My mother and my grandmother,” I cried in disbelief.
Henry held me against him. No one moved or spoke, and the room fell silent other than the sound of my ragged breathing. Numb disbelief filled my chest, stifled the panicked screams that brushed against the surface. Both murdered...my family stolen...
“Who sent you the letters?” Henry asked after a moment.
“I don’t know. They just started appearing on my writing desk once a week. I was instructed to leave my letters in the abandoned dairy house any time I wished to write back.
Rage shot through me and I rounded on Nathan, ready to pounce. “You’ve been corresponding with a murderer,” I said through clenched teeth. “Maybe now you can see which of us is truly evil.”
Tears came to Nathan’s eyes. “I was goaded into madness. He knew I loved you and used it against me.”
“How dare you try to justify your actions after what you’ve done. Have you already forgotten about accusing me of witchcraft in front of the entire town?” Hell’s teeth! His gall knows no bound!
“I beg you, Selah, please forgive me.”
It took all my self-control to keep from yelling. “And what about last night? Am I also supposed to forgive how you tried to kill me?”
“I acted in a state of madness,” he said miserably. “We have been friends a long time. You must know that I would never hurt you if I were in my right mind.”
“That’s a fine notion now that you’re facing the gallows,” I countered.
“I deserve to hang, and I’ll gladly do so as soon as you forgive me.”
The nature of his declaration sent a warning chill up my spine. “Why does my forgiveness matter so much?”
“It matters because you’re innocent. And because I know what you are.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “Your narrow mind is incapable of such understanding.”
“You have always been different, Selah, and I was manipulated into thinking that difference to be evil. But last night I saw your true identity. I saw the fire that burns inside of you.”
Henry tightened his hold on me.
Nathan had been changed into clean clothes. He pulled up the linen shirt, exposing his chest. “Do I need any further proof than this?” he asked, the familiar intensity returning to his eyes. “Only an angel could have performed such a miracle. Though I behaved wretchedly, you came to me in my time of need. Selah, you must forgive me! I would do anything to gain your pardon.”
Having no knowledge of the leath’dhia, it was natural that Nathan would mistake me for an angel. I saw no reason to enlighten him further. “What’s done is done,” I said sharply. “The past cannot be changed.”
“If that is your opinion, then even an angel can be mistaken.” He dropped his shirt and started to slowly push up from the bed. Though his body was completely healed, it would take days to recover his full strength.
“What are you doing?” Henry asked.
“I am going to Sunday meeting to declare Selah’s innocence. It is the only way to correct the past.”
Fear gripped me anew, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Don’t worry,” Nathan said, seeing my reaction. “Your secret is safe.”
Henry stepped forward to stop him. “What’s to say you won’t experience a change of heart on the way and run off?”
“I give you my word.”
“Your word is of little worth,” Henry said.
“Nathan,” I interrupted, in need of some more answers before their argument escalated any further. “A week ago Saturday, Henry and I were crossing the river on our way back from the Lenape Village. My horse was struck with a rock, and threw me into the water. Was this your doing?”
“I was nowhere near the river last Saturday.”
“Is there anyone who can vouch for your whereabouts?” Henry asked.
“My housekeeper. I was in my study for most of the day. When did it happen?”
“Around five that evening.”