Page 82 of Dawn (Cutler 1)

"That silly name, for one," she said. "You have succeeded in confusing my staff. This nonsense has got to end. Most girls who had lived the kind of hand to mouth existence you were forced to live would be more than grateful for all you have now. I want to see some signs of that gratitude. One way you can do that is to wear this on your uniform; it's something most of my staff does anyway."

"What is it?" I leaned forward, and she turned the nameplate toward me. It was a tiny brass plaque with EUGENIA written boldly in black. Instantly my heart became a thumping heavy lead drum in my chest. My cheeks became so inflamed, it felt as if my skin were on fire. All I could think was that she was trying to brand me, to make me a conquest, a possession, to prove to everyone in the hotel that she would have her way whenever she wanted.

"I'll never wear that," I said defiantly. "I'd rather be sent to live with some foster family."

She shook her head and pulled the corners of her mouth in as if I were some pitiful creature.

"You'll wear it; you won't go live with any foster family, though goodness knows, I would gladly send you if I thought that would end the turmoil.

"I was hoping that by now you had seen that this is your life and that you should live according to the rules set down for you. I was hoping that in time you would somehow fit in here and become part of this distinguished family. Because of your squalid background and upbringing, I see now that you will not fit in as quickly as I'd wished—particularly since despite some qualities and talents to recommend you, you cling to your wild and unrefined ways."

"I'll never change my name," I said resolutely. She glared at me and nodded.

"Very well. You are to return to your room and remain there until you change your mind and agree to put this nameplate on your uniform. Until then you will not report to work and you will not go to the kitchen to eat. No one will bring you anything to eat, either."

"My father and mother won't let you do this," I said. That made her smile. "They won't!" I cried through my tears. "They like me; they want us to be a family," I bawled. The hot drops streaked down my face.

"Of course we will be a family; we are a family, a distinguished family, but in order for you to become part of it, you must cast off your disgraceful past.

"Now, after you put on your nameplate and accept your birthright—"

"I won't." I ground the tears out of my eyes with my fists and shook my head. "I won't," I whispered. She ignored me.

"After you put on your nameplate," she repeated, hissing through clenched teeth, "you will return to your duties." She stopped talking and scrutinized me. "We'll see," she said with such cold confidence, it made my knees shake. "Everyone in the hotel will know you are being insubordinate," she added. "No one will talk to you or be friendly until you conform. You can save yourself and everyone else a great deal of grief, Eugenia." She held out the nameplate. I shook my head.

"My father won't let you do this," I said, half in prayer.

"Your father," she said with such vehemence it widened my eyes. "That's another problem you cling to stubbornly. You have learned what terrible things Ormand Longchamp has done, and yet you want to remain in contact with him." I looked up sharply. She sat back and opened her desk drawer to take out the letter I had written to Daddy and had given to my father to send. My heart jumped and then plunged. How could my father have given it to her—I'd told him how important it was to me. Oh, was there no one I could trust in this hateful place?

"I forbid you to communicate with this man, this child stealer." She tossed the letter across her desk. "Take this and yourself back to your room. Don't even come out to eat. When you are ready to become part of this family, this hotel, and this great heritage, return and ask for your nameplate. I don't want to set eyes on you again until you do that. You're excused," she said and turned to some papers on her desk.

For a long moment my legs wouldn't respond to my command to stand. I felt paralyzed in the chair. Her strength seemed so formidable. How could I hope to defeat such a person? She ruled the hotel and the family like a queen, and I, still the most lowly family member, had been returned to her kingdom, in many ways more of a prisoner than Daddy, who was in jail.

I rose slowly, my legs shaking. I wanted to run out of her office and charge out of the hotel, but where would I run to? Where would I go? Who would take me in? I never knew any of Daddy or Momma's relatives in Georgia, and they, as far as I knew, never even heard of me or Jimmy or Fern. If I just ran off, Grandmother would send the police after me, I thought. Or maybe she wouldn't; maybe she would be glad. Still, she couldn't help but inform the police, and a girl like me in a strange place would soon be found and returned.

Everyone would consider me the ungrateful one, too, the unwashed wild thing who had to be trained, broken, and forced to be a young lady. Grandmother would look like the abused yet loving matriarch of the family. No one would want anything to do with me until I obeyed her and changed into what she wanted me to be.

I started out of her office, my head down. Who could I turn to?

Never did I miss Jimmy more than I did at this moment. I missed the way he narrowed his eyes when he gave something deep thought. I missed the confident smile he had when he was sure what he was saying was right. I missed the warmth in his dark eyes when he looked at me lovingly. I remembered the way he promised to always be there whenever I needed him, and how he swore he would always protect me. How I missed the security that came from the feeling that he was nearby watching over me.

I opened the office door and without looking back walked out. The hotel lobby was growing crowded. People were coming in from their afternoon activities. Many milled about talking excitedly. I saw some children and teenagers standing with their parents. Like all of the guests, they were well dressed, happy, affluent-looking people. Everyone was bubbly and cheerful. They were enjoying their holiday together. For a moment I stood there and looked longingly and enviously at these happy families. Why were they so lucky? What had they done to be born into that sort of world, and what had I done to be tossed and turned about in a storm of confusion: mothers and fathers who were not real parents, brothers and sisters who were not real brothers and sisters.

And a grandmother who was a tyrant.

With my head down I walked through the lobby and did the only thing that I could do: return to my room, which had now become my prison. But I was determined. I would rather die than give up my name, even though it was a lie.

Sometimes we need our lies more than we need the truth, I thought.

12

ANSWERED PRAYERS

On the way to my room I paused when I reached the stairway that led up to my parents' suite. I was still feeling cold because of my father's betrayal, but I thought my mother should at least know what my grandmother- was doing to me. After only a short hesitation, I scampered up the steps and met Mrs. Boston, who had just brought my mother her supper.

"Doesn't she feel well?" I asked, and Mrs. Boston looked at me as if to say, "When does she?"

After she left I knocked softly and entered

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