“My cheek hits something hard—the stone floor. I’ve completely collapsed now. I am prostrate on the floor. “You . . . you think I’m lying?” I whimper. “Then why did you come with me? Why did you act like you thought I was telling the truth?” Harper’s looming above me. I can hardly bear to look up at him. The tears in my eyes blur him into somebody else. Somebody who doesn’t believe me. Somebody who’d rather believe a stranger in a silk dress. “I don’t think you’re lying,” he says impatiently. “N...ot on purpose, anyway. I think you’ve been lied to.” “Lied to?” I repeat. I’m having trouble understanding. My mind is creaky and stupid and numb. Then I grasp his meaning. “You think Sir Stephen and Nanny Gratine . . . oh, no, Harper, they weren’t lying to me. They wouldn’t. They were telling the truth.” In my mind’s eye I can see Nanny’s kindly wrinkled face, Sir Stephen’s piercingly honest blue eyes. I can’t imagine not trusting them. I can’t let any doubts creep into my mind.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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