It rained for days, delaying our trip into town for supplies. I hated going on Saturdays because I was more likely to see once-familiar faces. Unfortunately, we were unable to wait a few more days.

Miles did not speak to me on our ride into town. We had not spoken about the death of his daughter. He acted like it had never happened. Surprisingly, Maisie was not an emotional mess. I expected her to be screaming and crying all day and night like she had when Briar died. Maybe this was for the best? I shuddered at the thought.

I groaned when I saw the extra buggies lined up in front of the stores on the main street.

"Let's make this quick," I said. "Get what we need for the farm. I will get the groceries. Meet back here in fifteen minutes."

Miles pulled out his old scratched pocket watch to check the time. He nodded before shoving it back into his pocket. Without a word, he stepped out of the carriage and walked down the dirt road. A young couple standing in front of the small restaurant stopped their conversation to watch him. Did they recognize him from church? It had been years.

I walked to the Bellamy General Store. The two bells hanging above the door clanged together as I entered. I kept my head down when I saw a man paying at the counter. I gathered a few items off the shelves, waiting for the man to leave. Once he was gone, I set them down on the counter. Samuel Bellamy nodded as I listed off everything else I needed on the shelves behind him. When he turned, I saw the row of dark bottles on the bottom shelf. I licked my lips as I glanced over my shoulder at the door. Miles had always been beside me and watching me like a hawk when we went into town.

"Sam, do me a favour," I said. "Add a bottle of whiskey to my order."

Sam chuckled as he grabbed one of the bottles and set it on the counter.

"I thought you were dry now," he said as he calculated my total. "You have not ordered a bottle in years."

"We have been trying to save," I said. "Keep this quiet from Miles."

"Are you scared of your son?"

"Of course not."

My words came out like a sharp snap, but Sam looked unbothered. His lips were lifted into a small smirk and his brow was raised. I counted my coins and slid them across the counter as Sam bagged my supplies.

The bells over the door clanged, and my heart pounded when I saw the whiskey was not yet in a brown paper bag. Had Miles already finished? Had fifteen minutes passed? What would he do if he knew I wasted money on alcohol?

I turned to see it was not Miles, but two women. A lump formed in my throat when I saw it was Edith and her friend Patti. I spun around and kept my head down, praying she had not seen me. I had not spoken to her since that morning on her porch when she gave me advice about delivering Maisie's baby. Since then, Miles had killed her husband and son. Sam was bagging the remaining groceries so slowly, and I almost grabbed what was already bagged and ran.

I squeezed my eyes shut when the women's voices stopped. They must have seen me.

"Joseph."

It was Edith's voice. I let out a deep breath and raked my fingers through my hair before turning. Edith stepped toward me. Patti grabbed her arm in an attempt to stop her, but Edith shrugged her off and came closer. Her fingers fiddled with the golden cross around her neck.

"People have not seen you in a while," she said.

"I doubt anyone misses us," I said.

"Well," Patti said. "It is not you people do not miss."

I glared at Patti. She spent all of her spare time spreading vicious gossip. Her husband Oscar worked closely with Vincent to convince the church we could never return. Although Clara was friends with Edith, she despised Patti.

"Did he ever come to your home?" Edith asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Edith let out a deep shaky breath, but continued to fiddle with her necklace.

"The night Vincent went missing," she said. "Did he ever come to your home? The police told me it looked like he was attacked on the way, but-"

"No," I cut her off. "I never saw him that night. I did not know until weeks later he planned to speak to me."

"What about Oliver?" Patti asked, taking a step forward. "He left the house furious one day and never returned."

"What?" I asked. "You think I am responsible for him running away?"

"Alice is still distraught," Patti said. "The poor girl has been unable to cope."

"It is not my fault he probably left her for a mistress. You have all enjoyed blaming your problems on my family."

Patti's jaw hung open as she placed her hand on her hip. Edith closed her eyes as she chewed on her bottom lip. A quick moment of silence passed. When she opened her eyes, they were glassy.

"Was my advice helpful?" she asked. Her voice was so small and timid as she pushed away the tears. "Were you able to deliver the baby?"

"Yes, I have a grandson," I said, not wanting to elaborate on any more details.

Patti scoffed as her hand fell from her hip. She stepped forward to be beside Edith.

"That is something else I find hard to believe," she said. "Miles is a father? He has a wife? Impossible. No-"

"Patti," Edith tried to cut her off, but she continued her attack.

"No one would ever marry your son," she said. "Especially, no one in their right mind. I have trouble believing she even exists. How come none of us have ever met her? Not a single soul has seen her in town."

"Why would we bring her here?" I asked. "None of you have anything good to say about us."

"Maybe the rumours are true?" she asked. "I have heard you have this poor girl chained in your basement against her will. Constance said she was told you do not even let her wear clothes and only feed her the leftover scraps from dinner."

I focused on my breathing to try and calm the rage causing my hands to tremble. The vicious lies about Miles continue to swirl around this town.

"That is ridiculous," I said.

"It is probably part of some sick fantasy in his disturbed mind," Patti said. "He is probably torturing that innocent girl."

"Patti," Edith said in a warning tone.

"What if it is not just one girl?" she asked. "What if he has a group of women and-"

"Enough." I raised my voice enough to silence her nonsense. "Miles is a great husband and an even better father. All of you have unfairly treated him like a monster. He is different, but he is not a freak."

"He tried to set us all on fire," Patti said quietly.

"No." I shook my head. "He did not set the church on fire."

"How do you know?" Edith asked.

I had no proof, but I refused to believe it was true. The vultures in this town wanted to see Miles be torn apart. They wanted the Wilcox family to be destroyed.

The bells above the door clanged as it opened. Miles stood in the doorway, his large body filled the frame. His brows slightly furrowed as he looked at Edith and Patti. Both women took a step back.

"Eighteen minutes," he said.

I looked over my shoulder to see Sam leaning against the counter. He was probably enjoying watching Patti and Edith attack my family. Luckily, my whiskey was hidden in the paper bag. I gathered the bags in my arms and rushed out of the store. Miles was close behind me as I walked to the carriage.

"I hate this town," I grumbled as I set down the bags.

"I always hated them," Miles said. "What happened with Mrs. Thatcher and Mrs. Johnstone?"

"Nothing happened," I said. "It was just a reminder that we need to look out for each other. No one else cares about our family."

I continued to take deep breaths to calm my pounding heart as we climbed into the carriage. I pulled away before Edith and Patti had a chance to come outside, but it was unlikely they would be brave enough to spew their hate at Miles. They preferred to spread lies.

On the trip home, I glanced over at Miles multiple times. He was leaning forward and picking at the skin around his nails. His hair had grown longer, and dark strands fell from behind his ears and his face.

I had been upset with him. The killing and cannibalism were not supposed to be a permanent solution, but they protected our family. They all thought we were monsters, and like Vincent and Oliver, they would all try to hurt us. I wanted to take Maisie and Jasper out of the home, but that would not change anything. She would not be safe outside of our home. She would be exposed to all of their lies and accusations.

"No one can ever talk to Maisie," I said.

Miles sat up straighter and gave me an icy glare.

"What did they say about Maisie?" he asked.

"A bunch of ridiculous lies," I said. "They think you are hurting her."

"I would never hurt her," he snapped.

"I am aware," I said. "We need to make sure no one else hurts her too."