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"Late in the morning of the next day, you were born, Lillian. You were a beautiful baby with your features already quite formed, perfect features. Everyone oo'ed and ahh'ed over you, and everyone hoped your birth would restore Violet and give her some-thing to live for, but alas, it was already too late.
"Shortly after you appeared in this world, Violet's heart stopped beating. It was as if she had remained alive just so you would be born, and her and Aaron's child would see the light of day. She died in her sleep with a soft, gentle smile on her face. I was sure Aaron was there for her, waiting for her on the other side, his hand out, his arms ready to embrace her soul and bring it together with his.
"My mamma was too old and sick to care for a child, so I brought you back to The Meadows. The Captain and I decided we would raise you as if you were our own. Emily was four years and some months old by then, so she knew we had brought my sister's baby home to live with us, but we talked to her about you often and impressed it upon her that she should keep the secret. We wanted you to have a wonderful childhood and always feel you belonged with us. We wanted to shield you from tragedy and sorrow for as long as we could.
"Oh Lillian, honey," Mamma said, embracing me, "you must always think of us as your mother and father and not your aunt and uncle, for we love you just as much as our two other daughters. Will you think of us that way? Always?"
I didn't know how else to think of them, so I nodded, but in my secret putaway heart, I felt an ache, a deep down dark and cold ache that I knew would not disappear. It would linger forever and ever and remind me that I was once an orphan and that the two people who would have loved me and cherished me as much as they loved and cherished each other had been taken from me before I had a chance to set eyes on them. I couldn't help but be curious.
I had seen pictures of Violet and I knew where there were others, but I had never looked at her with as much interest as I knew I would look at her now. Up until now, she was just a face, a sad story, some dark part of our history better not discussed and remembered. I sensed that I would have a thousand questions about her and the young man called Aaron, and I was smart enough to understand that every question I asked would be painful for Mamma and she would draw answers reluctantly from the pool of her memory.
"You shouldn't worry about all this," Mamma said. "Nothing will change. Okay?"
When I look back on those days, I realize how innocent and naive Mamma was then. Nothing would change? Whatever invisible rope of love had bound us together snapped. Yes, she and Papa would be my mother and father in name, and yes, I would still call them that, but knowing they were not filled me with a sense of deep loneliness.
From that day forward, I would often go to bed feeling unhappy with my life, feeling an undercurrent that was pulling my feet from under me until I was floundering like someone bound to sink and drown. I would stare into the darkness and hear Mamma telling me over and over that I belonged where I was. But did I? Or had some cruel fate simply dumped me here? How sad it would be for Eugenia when she found out, I thought, and decided then and there that I would be the one who told her. I would do it as soon as I was positive she was old enough to truly understand.
I saw how important it was for Mamma that I pretended none of this really mattered, so I smiled after she told me the family secret, wanting me to agree that nothing would change.
"Yes, Mamma, nothing will change."
"Good. Now you must concentrate on getting better and not think of unpleasant things," she commanded. "In a little while, I'll give you your pills and then you can go back to sleep. I'm sure in the morning you'll feel a lot better." She kissed my cheek and stood up.
"I could never think of you as anything but my own," she promised. She beamed her most comforting smile and left me alone to ponder the meaning of all that she had told me.
In the morning I did feel a lot better. The chills were completely gone and my throat was less dry and scratchy. I could see that it was going to be a beautiful day with small puffs of clouds looking pasted against the deep blue sky, and I regretted having to spend it all indoors. I felt so good I wanted to get up and go to school, but Mamma was there first thing to be sure I took my pills and drank my tea. She insisted I remain bundled up in bed. My protests went unheeded. She was full of stories about children who didn't listen and got sicker and sicker until they had to be taken to the hospital.
After she left, the door was slowly opened and I turned to see Emily standing there, gazing in at me, her eyes more full of fury than I had ever seen them.
Suddenly, though, she smiled, a cold smile that stretched her lips thin and sent a cold shudder up my spine.
"You know why you're sick," she said. "You're being punished."
"I am not," I replied without even asking her for what I was being punished. She held her smile.
"Yes, you are. You had to go whining to Mamma about what I said. You brought more trouble to the family. We had a terrible time at dinner with Mamma whimpering and Papa snapping at both of us. And all because of you. You're just like Jonah."
"No, I'm not," I protested. Even though I was not sure who Jonah was, I knew from the way Emily spoke that he wasn't someone good.
"Yes, you are. You brought this family bad luck from the day you were taken in. A week after you came, Tottie's father was run over by the hay wagon and had his chest crushed, and then we had the fire in the barn and lost the cows and horses. You're a curse," she fired. I shook my head, my tears hot and continuous now. She took a few steps into my room, her eyes fixed on me with such hate I cowered back in my bed and pulled the blanket up to my chin again.
"And then when Eugenia was born, you had to go in and look at her. You had to be the first one, ahead of me, and what happened? Eugenia's been sick ever since. You cursed her too," she spat.
"I did not!" I screamed back. Blaming me for my sister's illness was too much. Nothing was more. painful to me than watching Eugenia struggle to breathe, watching her tire quickly after a short walk, watching her struggle to play and do the things all young girls her age were doing. Nothing broke my heart more than seeing how she gazed out the windows of her room, longing to go running over the fields, laughing and chasing after birds or squirrels. I was there for her as much as I could be, entertaining her, making her laugh, doing the things for her that she couldn't do for herself, while Emily barely spoke to her or showed the slightest concern.
"Eugenia's not going to live long, but you are," Emily sneered. "And it's all your fault."
"Stop it! Stop saying those things!" I screamed, but she neither faltered nor retreated an inch.
"You shouldn't have told on me," she replied calmly, revealing that was the sole cause of her venom. "You shouldn't have turned Papa against me."
"I didn't," I said, shaking my head. "I haven't seen Papa since I came home from school," I added, and sobbed harder. Emily stared at me in disgust for a few moments and then she smiled.
"I pray," she said. "I pray every day that God will spare us the curse of Jonah. Someday, He will hear my prayers," she promised, looking up at the ceiling, her eyes closed, her arms at her side, her hands clenched in small fists, "and you will be tossed overboard and swallowed by a whale, just like Jonah in the Bible."
She paused a moment, then lowered her head and laughed at me before pivoting quickly to exit my room and leave me shivering with fear instead of with fever.
All that morning I thought about the things Emily had said and wondered if any of it could be true. Most of our servants, especially Louella and Henry, believed in good luck and bad luck. There were charms and there were signs of evil; there were specific things to do to avoid bad luck, too. I remembered Henry bawling out a man who, while waiting for something to do in the barn, stood there killing spiders.
