10. George
George
Something felt out of place in my bedroom, like a chair had been shifted from its usual position. The hall clock chimed midnight as I changed for bed. I paced around my room and almost walked past without seeing it.
A pale square of paper flashed in my peripheral vision—a small envelope stuck between the glass and the carved wooden frame of my mirror.
Where had that come from? I opened the flap.
Viola’s familiar looping and swooping script was recognizable even though the words blurred together in the dark. I strode to the window for more light.
Dear George,
I’m on my way to Seattle to spend the summer with Aunt Edith at her invitation. I have arranged everything and will send a telegram the instant I arrive. I will not be forced to marry, no matter what Father thinks. I have not told him.
Your loving sister,
Viola
I read the letter three times. Still, it made no sense. I sprinted down the hall and burst through Viola’s door without stopping to knock. Empty. Her absence landed like a rock in my gut.
I stalked back to my room, scanning the letter, searching for a clue. My gaze jumped from the letter to the warm firelight in the window across from mine—Sarah’s window. She would know more.
My window groaned as I forced it open for the first time in months.
I doubted Sarah would hear me calling her name, even though it was barely twenty feet across.
Maybe I could throw something? I rummaged around and found a handful of Indian Head pennies.
The first penny bounced off the wall next to her window before dropping silently to the ground. I adjusted my aim.
Plink. Nothing. The night held its breath, and so did I. She must be sound asleep.
Two more pennies. Two more plinks. The drapes rustled on one side of Sarah’s window. She peeked around the curtain, then immediately disappeared. Come back. Why are you hiding?
Plink, plink, plink. My pennies were running low.
Sarah stepped into view as she tied a robe around her. She fumbled with her window. Open the latch. I mimed the action, and she either understood my gestures or figured it out on her own, because soon we were both leaning out our windows into the night.
“She’s gone,” I said.
“I know.” Her voice floated to me, soft and small in the darkness.
“How could you let her go without telling someone?” My voice boomed between the walls. I dropped to a whisper. “Without telling me?” Like she somehow owed me her confidence…
Pale hair floated about her head, a halo illuminated by the fire behind her. But she was not innocent in this.
“She made me promise not to tell.”
I gripped the window edge. “What were you thinking? This is bigger than a silly promise…”
She crossed her arms. “I made every effort to warn you—tried to get you to understand. Don’t you remember? At the dinner? When you were being a complete lunkhead? I… I couldn’t break my promise.”
I raked fingers through my hair. I would’ve remembered if she’d mentioned this. “But where is she? Right now. She’s not in her room. I promised to watch over her.”
“What?”
Sarah’s features were cast in shadow, but the moonlight showed the anxious tension on her face. She wasn’t my enemy.
I filled my lungs with the cool night air, puffed out my cheeks, and blew out slowly. Start over. No yelling.
I sighed. “Did I wake you?”
Her unbound hair swished about her shoulders as she shook her head. “I’m out of my mind. I can’t possibly sleep.”
“Tell me what you know, Sarah… please.”
She dropped her chin to her chest. Would she speak now and break her promise? I waited an agonizing minute for her decision. I was tempted to throw my last penny straight at the top of her head. When I could stand it no more, I coughed.
She said, “She took your family’s private train car. Greta is with her. She’s going to your aunt’s in Seattle.”
“When?”
“Early this morning. I think before sunrise.”
“More than eighteen hours ago… What route? Maybe I can telegraph one of the stations and have them redirect her back home.”
“West?” She braced one hand on the sash. “Pemberley… I never thought there would be more than one way she could go.”
I groaned and scrubbed at my face. The low sound echoed back to me, almost a growl. Maybe I was the big bad wolf, all teeth and bluster… but helpless.
Sarah strained forward. “What can we do?”
Blast it all. She thought I had answers. “Nothing. I’ve got nothing. Not tonight.”
“All she has to do is relax in your private car until she gets there. What could go wrong? She’ll be fine. Right?”
“I hope so. But there are so many things that could go wrong… knock on wood, Sarah.” I rapped my knuckles on the sash and the frame. “Knock on so much wood for luck.” We need a whole forest full.