There was silence between them as the diner buzzed with chatter, and utensils scraped against plates.
Mary's hand covered the pendant, pressing the bird against her chest as her fingers skimmed the chain. "Thank you," she whispered, and hoped John realized she was grateful for more than just his most recent gift; was grateful for his love and the hope he gave her.
Because with John, Mary did not feel like the daughter of hunters – she felt normal; felt as if there was hope for escaping a life she no longer wanted.
And hope was the thing with feathers that perched in the soul...
FIN