She wasn’t? Then why were they living together? Were they a couple?
It’s prying, but I have to know. “Then why was she here?”
Leo runs his free hand through his hair, the long, dark strandslifting then settling back onto his forehead, layer by layer. “She was working on some historical research.”
“Oh? Like on the Roanoke Colony and ley lines and all that?”
He nods but he’s not looking at me. There’s something he doesn’t want me to know.
“Why did she leave?”
“She ran out of leads,” he replies with a shrug. Hastily, he untangles his hand from mine and unzips his backpack. “I finishedAnne of Green Gableslast week.”
Talk about an abrupt subject change. I bite my lip to keep from asking more questions.
Pages rustle as he flips through my old copy of the novel, the one he’s now claimed as his, and stops on a heavily annotated page. “I wonder if you noticed this when you read it. It’s in chapter thirteen, when Anne is talking to Marilla about her amethyst brooch.”
My jaw drops. “It was amethyst?”
“You didn’t catch that?”
“No.” My fingers graze my necklace. “I must’ve read it before you gave me this.”
“Listen to what Anne says to her?—”
I scoot closer so I can see the page and follow along.
“‘Long ago, before I had ever seen a diamond, I read about them and I tried to imagine what they would be like. I thought they would be lovely glimmering purple stones. When I saw a real diamond in a lady’s ring one day I was so disappointed I cried. Of course, it was very lovely but it wasn’t my idea of a diamond. Will you let me hold the brooch for one minute, Marilla?’” Leo pauses to be sure he has my full attention before he reads the final sentence. “‘Do you think amethysts can be the souls of good violets?’”
“The souls of good violets?” I repeat.
He nods, eyes bright. Straining, I bend my neck low enough to get a good look at the purple stone in my pendant. Leo lowers his head too, so close to mine, his hair tickles my forehead.
“That’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard,” I say. “But I don’t think it’s true ofmyamethyst.”
“Why not?”
“It might be the souls of violets, but notgoodones.”
One side of his mouth curls up. “Badviolets?”
I nod and smile back. “Think about it—violets are supposed to be shy. You know, the whole shrinking violet thing. But this—” I lift the amethyst again. “This has power. It can’t be made up of a bunch of meek little violets.”
“So it’s the souls of bold ones, then?”
“Rebelviolets,” I say with a grin. “The ones who refuse to shrink from anything.”
“Rebel violets. I like that.” He slides the pendant from my fingers and holds it in his own. “Do you think it’s helping you?”
“Yes.” I don’t know if the stone is actually absorbing negative energy, or if it’s having some sort of placebo effect, but it seems to be working. “I feel stronger.”
“Do—” It’s more of a gasp than a word. He clears his throat. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” His voice is tight. “That’s what I wanted. For you to feel stronger.” He sets the caged amethyst gently back on my chest.
“I’m getting there.” I’m proud of myself for walking away from Rush, but I’m also scared. It’s one thing to decide what you don’t want to do, it’s another to figure out what you want instead.
