Meredith's Dagger

Huddled in a doorway, unseen by the men passing on great horses, Meredith watched from within the hood of her cloak. The pain of the cold, wet morning impaled her, rooting her in place, even as the cat rubbed against her shins with a force that should have felled her. She shooed him away. Go home. But he would not.

She wished she had died that night. She wished she had died, for to live like this was not to live at all.

* * *

When Richie Moorcroft takes a housekeeping position to finance his s...