Chapter 2: The Weight of the Past

In the spring of 2016, the disgraced former governor, Andrew Lane, was reinstated.

The whole state reeled.

It was everywhere—the kind of scandal and redemption arc that made late-night hosts laugh and folks in tiny diners or big-city law offices gossip nonstop. I watched the headlines scroll by on the diner TV, feeling like the world was tilting just a little beneath my feet.

Back then, the ninth councilman who’d framed Andrew had already taken his own life out of guilt, but the aftermath clung to everyone like smoke.

The statehouse felt haunted, every office thick with rumors and the stale scent of burnt coffee. The wound was raw, the gossip relentless. I remember tiptoeing through marble corridors, wondering who might betray whom next.

In less than a month, invitations to the Governor’s Mansion stacked up like a tower—half for Andrew, half for me.

"Miss Harper, you’re the most trusted person at the governor’s side. Who in Savannah doesn’t want to get on your good side?"

But I could only refuse them all.

"You’re all mistaken. In three days, I’ll be leaving."

After repeating this a hundred times, I was so exhausted I fell ill.

Three days later, when Andrew arrived, I was drinking medicine.

The golden spoon tapped against the rim of the mug.

The medicine was bitter and hard to swallow.

Andrew handed me a honey cough drop—his actions gentle, but his voice cold as ice.

"The car’s waiting outside. When you’re done, let’s go."

His hand hovered for a moment, as if he wanted to touch my shoulder, but he drew it back quickly, as if remembering the line he had drawn between us. I caught a whiff of his cologne—something expensive and sharp, at odds with the familiar comfort of home remedies.

"Alright."

My voice was hoarse from days of fever, like I’d been crying.

Andrew’s fingers paused.

He turned away, his eyes calm, reflecting the darkening sky.

"Natalie Harper, your background is too low. You should know you’re not fit to be my wife."

"Don’t push your luck. Just stay on the edge of Savannah. If I have time, maybe I’ll come see you."

I nodded, bowed my head, and coughed hard. When I looked up, all I could see was the distant, unreachable hem of his suit jacket.

Once, he’d been stripped of that tailored jacket in public, covered in mud, so desperate he fought stray dogs for scraps.

Only I didn’t turn away. I carried him through the long streets.

That day, snow fell hard. I was thin and weak, shaking with every step.

Andrew was dying. "Miss, I’m a lost cause. I’m not worth your trouble."

How could he not be worth it?

Before my mom died, she held me tight and said: the governor is like a white crane in the clouds, a good man who saved thousands in Maple Heights during the crisis.

I brought this so-called hero back to the bridge underpass, braved the wind and sun, selling cabbages from a pickup truck to support him.

Thus, six years passed.

Until, after his return to power, at the celebration banquet, he publicly got engaged to General McCarthy’s younger sister.

It was said that Miss McCarthy was intolerant of even the slightest imperfection and despised me, a cabbage seller.

Andrew needed the McCarthy family’s influence to secure his position, so he simply sent me away.

The day I left, I even ran into Miss McCarthy, who was hiking up her dress to visit.

She wrinkled her nose as she passed me. "The mangy dog finally ran off."

Behind her, the sunset glowed. Emily McCarthy clung to Andrew’s arm, laughing like wind chimes.

"Andy, after we get married, can I throw out all the stuff Natalie Harper left behind? I think it’s gross."

Andrew’s tone was light: "Mm."

The car jolted. The driver glanced at my pale, sickly face and spoke carefully.

"Miss, where would you like to go? A church retreat out in the suburbs? Or find a little plot nearby to build a house?"

The chest of cash Andrew gave me sat in my lap.

I looked at the wildflowers blooming along the mansion wall in the spring breeze and shook my head.

"Neither."

"Take me to the docks."

The boat heading north to Maple Heights was about to leave.