I began to
make my way to the edge of the rooftop, and as I neared it I heard a bang
behind me. I dared not look back, for if it be my Edward I could not face his
coldness again. I heard him faintly calling my name, “Bertha…Bertha…Bertha…”
almost as a question. At any moment that grand old house at Thornfield Hall
would collapse and we would be at final peace.
With a smile
on my pale lips, I closed my darkened eyes as I fell into the night. With my
arms spread like the wings of a sparrow, that one second of joyous wind on my
face and pleasure in my heart was worth my lifetime of sorrow. To feel alive
again a mere second from death.
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