Chapter Twenty-four

Emma

Miss Betsy?

“Edmée,” Jezebel said as she reached for my arm. “Please show Emma to where she’ll be staying. I’m afraid I’ve overdone.”

Edmée hurried down the stairs and over the packed dirt. She reached for Jezebel, wrapping her arm around Jezebel’s waist. Her dark orbs turned to me. “Help me, girl.”

I did the same, supporting Jezebel as we helped her up the stairs.

“Over there,” Jezebel said, nodding toward a row of rocking chairs.

“No, miss,” Edmée said, “You best lay down. The spirits have been too hard on you.”

“The chair is fine.”