Gwen’s fingers curled instinctively. She wanted to walk across the aisle and slap that expression off Elizabeth’s face. To scream. To demand an answer. But she didn’t. Not here. This was the last time she’ll get to see Albert. She wasn’t going to let Elizabeth contaminate such precious moments.
The service moved quietly. Words were read. Hands were held. When it ended, Gwen was speaking to a family friend when two men in suits approached her gently. “Excuse us—are you Mrs. Dawson?” one of them asked. Gwen nodded. “We’re from the bank. We need to speak to the estate owner.”