The cover still bore that dead man’s name, but Effy opened the book to the page that held the first line. I was a girl when he came for me, beautiful and treacherous, and I was a crown of pale gold in his black hair. Effy held it out to her. “Will you sign it for me?” Without words, Angharad took it. She scrawled her name forcefully on the page in black ink. When she was finished, she said in a low voice, almost like a confession, “I’ve waited so long to do that.”
Aw
