A heart attack?
The brush fell out of his hands.
The stable hands averted his gaze, slowly backing out of the doorway.
Bartby snorted, rubbing her snout against his arm as though she understood what was going on.
Had he smoked too much? Or drank too much?
Christ.
He ran a hand through his hair.
For a brief moment, his feet refused to move.
What if…
He shook his head to clear the thought.
Nothing bad would happen, he told himself. His dad would be perfectly fine - it was only a phase.
Theo patted Bartby on the head before dashing out of the stables.
There were only a few men out in the yard, training horses or baling hay. As he passed them, they all looked at him with heavy expressions, as though they had received the news long before he had.
His steps became hurried as he ascended the steep path that led to the side of the house.
When he reached the house, there was a carriage parked along the driveway.
So she really was leaving?
