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Alone with Li,I didn’t know what to do or say. The muscles of my stomach clenched as hard as a fist ready for a fight.

I heard the floor creak behind me. Li came to stand next to me. Still, no words could come from my mouth. Could I truly let myself believe that he’d come through for me finally? That he would tell me the truth at last?

“Fiona, I’m sorry,” Li said.

I drew away from the window and turned to him. “Don’t be sorry.” Just love me, I thought. Tell me you’re willing to fight for us.

His dark eyes flickered with emotion. “I’ve made a terrible mess of things. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

“After everything we’ve done together, you had so little trust in me?”

“It’s not you. It’s the world.”

“How better to fight prejudice and hatred than through love? Or do you still think that’s naive?” I spoke softly, afraid to scare him away.

“Perhaps you are.” He reached out to wrap one of my curls around his finger. “But maybe that’s exactly what I need. What we both need.”

“I can’t be the only one who believes in us,” I said. “You have to find it in your heart to take a chance that all will be well. That it’s better for us to be together than apart, despite all the dangers.”

“I want to. I truly do.”

“Then let go,” I said. “Let go of all that and grab on to me.”

“And believe that despite all evidence to the contrary, the world’s more good than bad?” Li asked.

“The world is almost all good with very little bad. Good people are going about their business, loving their families and doing the best work they can with the gifts God gave them. The power-hungry and the fearful make it seem otherwise. They’re doing their best to destroy faith and love with their wars and their violence. The two of us—the way we feel—means it’s our responsibility to fight for love. Every time people choose love instead of hatred, we make a small change that gets us closer to where we all want to be.”

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He stroked my cheek with one knuckle and gazed at me with such tenderness my breath was temporarily stolen from me. “If anything happened to you because of me, I would not want to live. Furthermore, if you grew resentful and even came to hate me for all the ways I changed your life, it would be as good as death.” His expression darkened. I could feel him slipping away, wanting to run.

“What is it?” I asked. “Tell me.”

“When I was in Chicago, I almost died. I’ve never told you or anyone about what happened to me. I’ve wanted to shield you from the truth but perhaps you’re right, I’ve done you a disservice by keeping parts of my life from you.

“It was late at night and I was headed back to my room after rehearsal. Three men jumped out of the shadows. I didn’t know them, but apparently, they’d seen me around. They taunted me and then beat me and left me for dead. I thought I’d die of either my wounds or the cold there on the street. People would walk by and no one would even stop to help me. No one would even know for weeks and weeks, if ever, because the street cleaners would dispose of me into the bin.”

“Is that what happened?” I asked. “Did no one stop to help you?”

He shook his head. “No, someone stopped. A young couple. They walked me home and helped me clean my wounds and put me to bed. The next day, he brought a pan of soup she’d made.” He blinked, staring down at me. “Is that what you’re going to take from this story? That someone helped me?”

“And brought you soup. Was it good soup?”

He laughed, raspy. “Yes, it was good. Not as good as Lizzie’s or Grandmother’s but decent enough.”

“And what does that tell you?”

“That there are good people,” Li said.

“Many more good people than bad.”


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical