I want my freedom. ” She looked down at the flowers, still in shock, and gently laid them over her arm like a Miss America candidate practicing a crowning ceremony at a pajama party. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. The noise of a bolt came to Alderley’s ears. Here it is. "Those tears will do you good. “We are Mr.
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