Part Six
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We pass sometimes, in the hall of our school. He is still Virgin Camden, and I am still Claire, and if people suspect that I had a child they say nothing to me about it. I suppose they will always wonder.

We have a secret, Simon and I. And we have kept our secret. Somewhere, I pray in the home of people who love her as much as I do, my daughter has begun her life. And here, in little Glenoak, our lives, his and mine, go on. His large family still has their antics, but I think he sees them differently than he used to, sees what is important and what is not, and I think the antics affect him less than they used to. And I know that in a few years I will leave my parents and that I will not return. I work hard at a job, part time, and I save my money, and I study when I am not working so that someday I can get away from the bottles and the bruises and my father's hatred of what I am.

We pass, sometimes, in the hall. Each time, Virgin Camden smiles at me, with that subtle, kind, wry smile that is so uniquely his. He is an extraordinary boy, Simon is. He was there for me when I needed someone. He did what had to be done despite the pain it brought him.

The others, his family, their boarders, Cecilia, may not know this. They may not know who he really is.

But I do.

THE END