Chapter 37

"My husband taught me some self-defense moves," Emily Johnson said, smoothing her disheveled hair. Her profile looked especially cold under the moonlight. "With a face like mine, it’s easy to attract unwanted attention."

"It’s Peter Wilson, that scoundrel!"

Someone in the crowd recognized the figure curled up on the ground. The villagers immediately understood—no matter how desperate Emily was, she would never stoop to someone like Peter.

Everyone knew she was determined to return to the city. Could Peter help her with that? Ridiculous!

"Mommy!" Little David came running out barefoot, his face full of panic. Emily bent down to pick him up, feeling his small body trembling in her arms.

"Uncles, who is this man?" she asked deliberately, her voice laced with just the right amount of confusion.

The villagers exchanged glances. Since Emily had married into the village, she rarely worked in the fields, so it made sense she wouldn’t recognize everyone.

"It’s Peter Wilson..."

"Go get the village chief!"

Peter tried to crawl away, but Emily stepped on his wrist, making him gasp in pain.

Soon, the women who had heard the commotion gathered in a circle, chattering loudly.

"What’s a man doing at Emily’s house in the middle of the night?"

"Could it be..."

"Pah! As if Emily would ever look at him!"

Emily scoffed. "With his stench and wrinkled face?" She kicked Peter again, her movements sharp and precise.

"Ah—!" His pig-like scream cut through the night.

By the time Chief John Stone arrived, his grandson was already pointing an accusing finger. "Grandpa, he’s a thief!"

"Take Peter away!" Chief John ordered sternly.

Emily stood at the gate with David in her arms, ignoring the curious stares. Only when the crowd dispersed did she gently close the rickety gate behind her.

The moonlight spilled like water, illuminating her slightly trembling fingertips.