Savannah's POV
Before our meal arrived, Jonathan headed off for another shower. Food and sauce covered him from head to toe, and Ethel practically shooed him away from the table.
"I refuse to eat while looking at that disaster. You're killing my appetite completely."
He shuffled out of the room, muttering complaints under his breath. The silence that followed his departure felt like a blessing.
Ethel took my hands gently and guided me to a chair facing her. For several minutes, she said nothing at all.
She simply watched me while her fingers traced my cheek, smoothed through my hair, and held my trembling hands.
Her eyes held no pity. Instead, I saw deep regret. A senseless guilt that she hadn't been there to shield me from harm. That she couldn't have prevented my suffering entirely.
