“Thank you for protecting me,” I whispered as we walked, aching to burrow into his arms. I settled for reaching over and squeezing his hand, all too aware that Mary could be watching. I didn’t know what she’d do if she realised Gloam and I were close. That he had some comfort out here when she had clearly made every effort to ensure he didn’t. He squeezed back, his long fingers closing around mine before letting go. It felt inadequate. Not enough to show him how grateful I was. How much he meant to me. How much I thought of him.
