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fence trailed farther, to the edge of the wood that lined the property. Nick’s hand’s tightened on the reins when he spied an old man hunched over in his dark brown robes, walking with a cane and carrying a basket laden with whatever he’d foraged for in the wood.
    â€œIt appears you have a neighbor,” Landon said absently.
    Nick didn’t respond; he wasn’t sure how to when he was staring at someone from his past, at one of the men who could have been his advocate instead of silently hanging back in the pews, letting evil happen in all parts of the school Nick had attended as a boy.
    The old man was but a fraction of the man he’d once been, frail and weak as he leaned heavily upon his cane, and walking with a limp along an old worn-down path lined with stones. The old man hadn’t noticed Landon or Nick as he walked deeper into the wood to whatever hellhole he called home these days.
    Confront him, or let him be for now?
    Nick dug his heels into the animal’s sides. Realizing what he’d done, he eased up on the horse.
    â€œIt seems I do,” he finally said. And he sure as hell couldn’t go after the old man. Such forwardness would require revealing something of himself to Landon. The old monk was safe from Nick’s wrath. Besides, that particular broken soul wasn’t the sole person responsible for Nick’s damaged past. That accomplishment was with the old vicar who headed up the all-boys school Nick attended when he was no more than eleven.
    â€œI’ll be sure to introduce myself another day,” Nick said, realizing he was lost in his thoughts. He focused on the dilapidated manor house. The only way to describe it was broken. Something Nick could relate to within himself.
    Landon didn’t seem to care either way if they made friends with the locals this morning, so Nick further steered his friend away from thoughts of the monk.
    â€œWe’ve been gone too long. My new bride will wonder where I am.”
    â€œMy wife as well.” Landon patted the side of his horse and gave the house one last look.
    â€œI’ve wanted this chunk of land for so long, it’s odd that I don’t feel an ounce of relief now that I own it.”
    â€œI find it’s the things we are denied that we want most. And once we’ve succeeded in that goal, we wonder what our purpose was for wanting that end result so badly.”
    Nick felt no stirring of emotion when he studied the pitted, worn stone structure. Now that the first part of his goal had been obtained, his original goal seemed unfulfilled. The house was merely an object, not the source of his hatred toward this place. The vicar would be dealt with soon enough. Though Nick hoped he didn’t feel the same lack of accomplishment after ruining what was left of the vicar’s life.
    â€œAt any rate, you said it best. You have a new bride to get back to, and I have a wife to spoil,” Landon said, drawing Nick’s attention back to the here and now.
    â€œLet’s get back, then.”
    Landon rode up beside Nick and looked over his shoulder at Caldon Manor. “I still believe it would be better served razed. Less work to build something new.”
    Nick didn’t look back at the old house; what he did know was that he wasn’t so eager to erase any part of his past, and tearing the house down irrevocably seemed wrong. His past could not be wiped clean. The house would remain standing as a reminder that he had to keep fighting for all those children in future generations who were helpless to men like the vicar.
    â€œI’m afraid Sera’s heart is set on complete restoration. She wants a grand manor house for her school. She said she doesn’t want the place to feel institutional. I agree that a house is more fitting for children.” Nick had convinced her to take on the task of schoolmistress, with a grand manor as an enticement to the children’s parents.