Chapter 14

What shall I do if she has perished? Will I just sit and write? Is my lot to create pages of words eventually nonsensical, then send them to their ruin, where the effluent in the cellar’s corner is always three cinder blocks high, until I perish from starvation?

The pen that had soothed me some, the words that came forth from it undid.

Or would you remember me? Would you come to my aid? If you believe the condemnation of the townsfolk, if you have heard even more from the officer who was here, I fear you may be too afraid to do so.

“Pennsylvania.”

He hadn’t fled after all. His voice, it startled me, but somehow also comforted simultaneously. The wallpaper was pulled back, held open by the basin stand. I did not recall either fixing it right or making it this way. My spells had me confused. I could not recollect if one brick was out, or several, or possibly all when Ewan had last left it. I dared not look any further to see.

“Are you there?”

My heart was in my throat. Yes.