“Of course, everyone knows it. The way her death was swept under the rug. You were sent away. Putnam went MIA for months. It’s obvious!” he snarls, his hands shaking as he drops the loofa. He falls to the ground, holding his head in his shaky hands as he begins to sob. “Giselle! My sweet, sweet Giselle.” I don’t move a muscle, tracking his movements carefully, when all of a sudden, his tears have dried, sobs have ceased, and he looks at me with a blank face that chills me to the bone. “It’s okay, though. Things are okay now. We can start our lives now, together.”
