Prologue
Jean Finch leaned against the doorway of her new home, absentmindedly pulling off her little white gloves as she took in the interior. Atticus hadn't been fooling around when he told her not to expect much. He had said the house was newly bought and that he hadn't acquired a single piece of furniture, apart from a double bed borrowed from a neighbour's spare bedroom, wanting her to have a blank canvas to make the place her own. Jean loved him for it, but she was now realising what a massive undertaking that would be, and one she would no doubt have to do alone.
It wasn't as though she could call her mother and ask for help. She was nearly certain Maisie Graham would decline the call once she heard Maycomb and her daughter was on the other line. Her mother had made it very clear what she thought of her daughter, and Jean knew the quicker she accepted that now she only had Atticus the happier she would be. She would be nothing more than a phantom to her family. A name that would never be discussed, a photo that would be expertly hidden. She no longer existed to them now.
Asking the neighbours for help was something she already knew was out of the question. She had only just arrived in Maycomb, but she felt as though the town had been gossiping about her for months. She had seen them peeking out from behind net curtains, judging her before they even knew her name. Of course, she wasn't showing just yet, and she knew Atticus hadn't told a soul, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they knew. They knew everything.
Behind her she heard the car door slam shut, signaling that her husband was approaching with the last of their bags. She had left Montgomery with little more than the clothes on her back, but she had accumulated quite the wardrobe during their honeymoon in Boston, something Atticus had insisted on. She knew he still blamed himself. He blamed himself for getting involved and taking her away from her family, but Jean was thankful. If it wasn't for him, God only knew where she'd be. In hospital most likely.
"That's everything." Atticus said, walking past to deposit two more bags in the room she assumed was their bedroom.
"I think it's time for bed for you, old man," Jean replied teasingly, following him into the room. "That's all the exercise you're capable of for today. You've tired yourself out." She said, smirking and wrapping her arms around him.
"I'll go if you come with me." Atticus said, pulling her a little closer.
She knew he was only teasing, but she couldn't prevent the frown that formed. Wasn't that the reason things had turned out this way? She hadn't told him what had happened the first time, how could she, but her mother had found out. After that the dominos just kept on falling.
"In the middle of the day? And give the neighbours something else to gossip about?" Jean responded, pulling away from him and dropping her gloves on the bed. She hated how accusatory her voice sounded, and if Atticus had been stung by it he certainly didn't show.
"Sweet, what are you talking about? We've only just arrived."
"They know, Atticus, I know they do. Someone's told them. They know I'm pregnant, they know – "
Atticus interrupted her. "They know nothin'." He had slipped into his courtroom voice. "What happened with…what happened in Montgomery is in the past, Jean. This is your fresh start. You, me, and the baby." He had come towards her and rested his hand on her stomach. "It's all in the past."
Jean wondered how long it would stay there.
