I don’t have to believe in people. I mean that. I’m the sort of girl that people assume is always happy with people because I just don’t know that they can be wicked and awful and conniving and everything else. Of course I know that. The thing is, someone has to believe in all the people who aren’t all bad yet. Someone has to see the good in them. More importantly, I don’t always care to know if someone’s talking about me behind my back. The rumors are true or they aren’t—it’s as simple as that. We live in a small town. There’s nowhere for the stories to go except to Lizzie, who usually just laughs it off.
My husband is the same way. He can see the best in everyone. He doesn’t even see how his own sister tried to ruin Lizzie’s life over and over. He’s just now starting to understand that my little sisters—two of them—really suffered because of George Wickham. Even after everything, I can’t hate him. Not much of a secret, right? But it’s what I’ve got. I’ve already forgiven George Wickham for taking Lydia away. I guess Kitty and I finally have something in common. And I’ll always be glad that Kitty is close to Lizzie and I. I think it’s okay to know that it came at a cost. And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll be close to Lydia. Anything can happen. That’s what life’s all about. Loving, and hoping the best really happens. It does all the time.