My voice was a rough whisper, full of regret. "How could I have missed this?"
I stood in what Faith's father called her "room" in the attic. It wasn't a real room, just a small, sad space. There was a narrow, uncomfortable bed, a small, old chest, and a few worn-out books. These were all Faith owned. This was where Faith just existed, not lived. And I, being so blind and proud, had made her misery worse.
My mind raced. Old memories and new understandings crashed together. I had been so focused on being forced into this marriage, so angry about how unfair it was to my life, that I completely forgot she was going through the same thing.
She probably didn't want to get married either. She just wanted to live her life, free and she too, was trapped in this fancy cage with me. But instead of
