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"I went to the school residence in New York City and spoke to your girlfriend Trisha. All my letters to you from Germany were being returned, simply marked 'No longer at this address.' Daddy hadn't heard from you either and said two of his letters had been returned the same way. I couldn't believe you would leave without telling me where you had gone, so as soon as I returned to the States, I went to your apartment building and asked to see your girlfriend."
He lowered his head.
"She told me what had happened to you," he said. "Oh Jimmy, I . . ."
He put his finger on my lips.
"It's all right. Don't
try to explain it all right now. My first concern was you and what was being done. Trisha told me about all the letters she had written to you. In a letter you had left her when you left the hospital, you told her you were going to someplace called Upland Station in Virginia and you mentioned the Booth sisters.
"She wrote to you, but you never wrote back and her letters were never returned, so she never knew if you had gotten them."
"Oh Jimmy;" I moaned. "I never got to see them. That horrid woman kept them from me, just as she kept me from sending any letters or calling anyone. There's no phone in this house and it's miles and miles to one."
"Who is this woman? Why did she lie and tell me you had already left?" he asked, gazing down the stairway. But Miss Emily was gone.
"She's Grandmother Cutler's horrid sister, even more horrid than she is. I didn't think it was possible, but it is. There's another sister here, a simpleminded one named Charlotte, who she torments in a different way."
Jimmy shook his head and looked me over. "What happened . . . I mean, I thought you were sent here because you were pregnant."
"I was. I've just given birth—that's why I'm so weak and tired, that and something Miss Emily has given me to drink so I would be no trouble until she was ready to get rid of me. I have no idea where they were sending me next."
"Well, where's the baby?" he asked.
"I don't know. She told me it was too small. I'm afraid of what she has done. Her sister told me some people came and took it. I hope and pray it wasn't an undertaker."
"An undertaker?"
"Oh Jimmy," I cried. "I gave birth nearly a month too soon. There were so many terrible things going on here. I was in the nursery and I saw this doll in the crib and then she came in behind me all in a rage, so I ran and I fell and . . ."
"Easy," Jimmy said, stroking my matted hair. "You will have plenty of time to tell me all of it. You're not making sense right now. You're too distraught."
"Distraught? Yes, yes." I touched my own face. "I must look so horrible to you. I haven't had a hair brush for months and these clothes . . ."
I tried to stand, but I got so dizzy, I fell back into Jimmy's arms.
"Whatever she gave me still hasn't worn off completely," I explained.
"Let me help you up and take you somewhere to lay down for a few minutes. Then, we'll get to the bottom of all this," he said with definite authority.
Gazing into his dark eyes, I saw how strong and mature he had become. Jimmy was a full-grown man now. His shoulders were broad, his face firm. I had always felt safer in his arms or with him near me, but now I truly believed he could take charge and do what had to be done.
He lifted me to my feet as if I weighed no more than a baby.
"Just take me right down here where she kept me, Jimmy. It's the closet bed. But as soon as I catch my breath, I want to find out what happened to the baby and . . ."
"We will," he said, guiding me along. "Easy. No one is going to hurt you ever again," he promised with assurance.
"Oh, Jimmy. Thank God you're here." I rested my head against his strong shoulder and started to sob.
"Don't cry. I'll take care of you now," he whispered and kissed my hair and my forehead.
When he set eyes on my excuse for a room, he gasped.
"It's like a closet," he said. "No windows, no fresh air. Just a little oil lamp for light! And it smells so stuffy and sour in here."
"I know, but I just need a short rest."
