Fiancée.
Those three syllables sent waves crashing through Conrad's heart.
Olivia's diary flashed vividly in his mind—the pages he had pored over through a sleepless night. After his faith in his father had shattered, Conrad had remained awake until dawn, reading every word his half-sister had written.
His desperation had outweighed any guilt he might have felt for invading someone's private thoughts. It was not born of affection for a sister he had never acknowledged, nor any loyalty to blood ties he had long ignored.
He simply wanted to relieve himself of the crushing guilt—the weight of having pushed a six-year-old child to such extremes.
He had hoped to find even a single line in those pages that might suggest the child had found some measure of peace. Some small respite.
Across five volumes of that diary, Conrad had finally discovered the first and last moment of genuine happiness.
---
---