It was done.
She had made her choice.
The day had come.
Agatha sat quietly on a wooden stool, her hands resting on her lap, her heart pounding.
Mr. David was coming.
Her mother had made her wear her best dress, a simple blue gown that had been worn too many times but was still presentable.
Her hair was neatly tied back, and her face was fresh, with only a touch of oil to keep her skin from looking dry.
Her father sat beside her, his hands folded, his face unreadable.
Jon stood near the door, arms crossed, watching the road.
Then they saw it.
A black car coming down the dusty Village path.
Agatha swallowed hard.
This was real now.
The car stopped in front of their house, and the door opened.
A man stepped out.
Mr. David.
He was old and wrinkled, just as she had imagined.
His hair was completely gray, his back slightly bent, and his steps slow.
But his face was calm, and when he smiled, there was warmth in his eyes.
Agatha felt her breath hitch.
She had feared he would be cruel, arrogant, or unkind.
But now, looking at him, he didn’t seem like a bad person.
He greeted her parents first, shaking her father’s hand with respect.
Then he turned to her.
“So you are Agatha,” he said, his voice deep but gentle.
She nodded, unable to find her words.
He chuckled softly.
“I have heard a lot about you. A strong, intelligent young woman.”
She glanced at her parents, Unsure how to respond.
“Come sit with me,” he said, pointing to a bench outside.
