The next few days were a blur to me. Father didn't know about Ferdinand, yet, but I would tell him later. I had been taking supplies from our store, and giving them to him. He had people he had to care for, too.
I couldn't make myself tell Father that I had been helping Antonio, indirectly. I hadn't seen him, yet I knew someone would eventually find out. I tried not to dwell on that, and make myself keep going. If Father found out about this, which he would, he would be terribly angry, and I couldn't bear the thought of being disinherited.
Ferdinand was the only way that I could keep going. We were hopelessly in love, and through that came our weakness.
When Father found out, he might order us to stay apart.
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