“Dorothy?” he croaked. She paused and looked over her shoulder at him, waiting. “I… Townsfolk don’t usually welcome me with open arms,” he admitted. A small sense of shame rose inside him. The emotion startled him almost as much as the trepidation he felt at being run out of town in front of her. He didn’t care about the townsfolk or their opinions. He didn’t. Dorothy was … different. She backtracked to him and wove her fingers between his, squeezing. “You’re not the monster you think you are.”
