The rest of the morning was very chaotic. Dawn wasn't present for the morning gathering and prayers. The cook informed Claude that she had gotten something for Malachi to eat and then gone out into the gardens. Her statement was confirmed before Claude was even all the way outside: even from here, he could hear the angry music coming out of her guitar. The sinister minor chords matched the gloomy gray sky above.

"Hey," she said without looking up. She was sitting by a tree trunk and watching Malachi chase Squishie and Michael around. The two dogs thought it was funny to wait until the young boy got right up to them before they dashed off in different directions.

He was unsure of how to open the conversation, so it all came out in one exhaled breath:

"I want you to forgive Joseph."

"What?"

She looked at him incredulously.

You have officially lost your mind, her expression said.

"As Godly people, we have to grant forgiveness when those who wrong us ask…and even if they don't."

Dawn's fingers paused on the frets. Instead of the pause in the dark chords bringing relief, it made the silence seem even more sinister.

"Are you forgetting that he almost killed both of us? On top of that, he was doing some really creepy things. He touched our baby, Claude! He could have easily hurt him! For all I know, Joseph's the one who made him sick!"

"I don't blame you for being angry," Claude said in his "preacher" voice, "but carrying this burden on your soul for the rest of your life isn't healthy. It's not going to solve this problem. How do we know he hasn't truly repented?"

Dawn's stare was darkening more by the second.

"How do we know he has? Guys like him don't change," she said acidly, "I didn't trust him before and I will never trust him."

He was quiet for a moment, trying to think of a way to work this out. He hated fighting with her and he especially didn't want to do so over Joseph. His display in the sanctuary had thoroughly embarrassed Claude and he didn't want any more scenes made than necessary. Doing the right thing seemed impossibly hard because he truly didn't know what the answer was right now.

"Maybe we should hear what he has to say," Claude knew he was treading on thin ice now.

"I heard enough this morning! I want him gone!" Dawn snapped, "I only stopped because Malachi was watching us! Don't think that I wouldn't go through with it!"

Claude didn't know what to say to that. The image still horrified him. He'd seen a side of Dawn this morning that frightened him. She heard his sigh and knew he was getting frustrated with her.

"After all that stuff he did," Dawn said coldly, "after he almost killed you and then almost got me killed…after all that worrying you did over me performing in the streets…you're going to protect the guy that almost did me in. Thanks."

She shook the dry grass off of her skirts and walked off. Claude was feeling sick to his stomach as he watched her move to the other side of the yard. Now, he was hurt. She knew she'd hurt him the instant she'd said that, but for some reason, she was in a very belligerent mood this morning. The adrenaline hadn't had a chance to exit her system. She didn't turn to look at him until he was almost inside again. His shoulders were slumped and she almost yelled out an apology.

But she didn't. Her fury towards Joseph kept her tongue glued to the bottom of her mouth.

….

"Yes, it's true that you're her husband and she has to listen to you," Jehan said, "but you can't force someone to forgive no matter what."

"She needs to," Claude argued, "I need to. We need to get this out of our lives for good. I know she has nightmares about him and if she doesn't face him, she always will."

"Both of you have excellent points," Jehan said diplomatically, "but trying to force her to face him will only backfire. She'll come to fear him and resent him worse because it wasn't her choice. You didn't see the look on her face when he nearly stabbed you. When he couldn't separate you two by your death, he wanted her to die, which would have been just as good in his mind. That girl would give her life for yours and she nearly did once."

Claude willed the tension headache that he was getting to go away. It didn't. If anything, it was getting worse. He hated fighting with Dawn. Thankfully, they hadn't fought very much.

"So, what do I do?" Claude asked reluctantly.

"Let her face him on her own terms and be there for her. She won't admit to it because she's supposed to be a tough woman, but she's scared. I can tell she is," Jehan said, "some women fall apart when they're afraid, but she's the type that would take on an army rather than give in to it. She buries her fear in her anger."

"She walked away from me," Claude complained, "how do I know she'll listen?"

"Because she loves you. She won't stay away for long and you know that."

They were in Claude's office. Since Jehan had returned, he had been Claude's sounding board for matters of the heart. He figured that Jehan would eventually grow tired of it, but he was more than willing to help since he had come to love both of them.

"Whatever happens, you must make sure she knows that you're truly listening to her," Jehan stressed, "she wants to know that you care about her feelings. And all those men that think that unquestioning obedience is the only way a woman should be don't have the slightest idea of what they're talking about. Is it better to sacrifice a little bit of pride or a lot of trust?"

….

Jehan was right, as he usually seemed to be. He wasn't sure where Dawn had been, but they both ended up in the same hallway near sunset. He hadn't even said anything when she flung herself into his arms. Though she didn't make any noise, he could feel her ribs jerking up and down and knew she was crying. He kissed her on top of the head to show her that he wasn't angry with her and rubbed her back while she regained her composure.

Something must really be wrong, he thought. He had only seen Dawn cry one or two times before and that was usually when she was angry about something. She often refused to be around anyone in tears and would banish everyone from the room, even him, when she had a spell.

Gradually, her breath slowed and evened out. She wasn't used to seeking out other people for comfort when she was this upset. Embarrassed, she fished her handkerchief out of her dress pocket and sponged away the offending stickiness. Then, she noisily blew her nose and put it back.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I hate crying."

She wished she could be like the women in the movies and look artfully emotional without the runny nose and the blotchy red face. Claude had not yet said anything.

"Talk to me," he prompted gently. Dawn could only hug him for a moment. She felt better that he couldn't see her face right this second.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she choked out, "that was really uncalled for. I forget how many awkward situations your job puts you in. I know you've suffered as much as I have because of Joseph…I panicked because I really did think I would kill him earlier. I don't like someone having so much power over me."

"I know," Claude said quietly, "and it means a lot to me that you want to protect me. But I'm very glad you didn't go through with it."

He stroked her hair and the back of her neck. She would often get tension headaches at the base of her skull and rubbing there would relax her.

"I won't like it, but I'll talk to him if that's really what you want," she said in a pained voice.

"It would. But we have a little over a month. Between now and the last day of his reprieve, you may choose the date."

He knew before she said anything that it was a good compromise. After extending this proverbial olive branch, she practically melted against him.

"Thank you," she breathed, her voice partially muffled by his robes.

Neither one of them had paid very much attention to their surroundings. The two priests that were guarding the bedroom door were still and silent, pretending that they hadn't heard anything. Joseph had pressed his ear against the door and was listening.

"Let's go eat dinner," Claude told her, "you haven't had anything to eat all day and I don't want you to get sick."

She managed a small smile as he took her hand and led her down the stairs.