Audrey looked down at her shoes, biting down on her lip. In the whirlwind of getting breakfast done that morning along with all her chores, she had forgotten the clothes. “No… sir. Sorry, sir.”
“You know what happens now, Audrey,” Elijah spoke lowly, almost muttering, but he would never mutter. There was no need to mutter, because either way, people would listen to him carefully. He stepped towards Audrey, and the girl closed her eyes tight, chest tightening in fear, expecting the pain to come as hard and as sharp as it always did. But nothing happened, and Elijah only spoke again. “Go put the clothes up to dry, girl.”
She looked up quickly, seeing him staring down at her. “Yes… Yes, sir. I will do that, sir.”
She rushed over to the back door, picking up the straw basket of clothes, just as damp as they had been when she had cleaned them early that morning when the sun had barely risen. Her hands shook in fear still, but she tensed her arms, calming herself down with one steady breath in.
“I want this house cleaned and ready for Solomon’s arrival,” Elijah called from the front room, Audrey clenching her jaw, flinching as his voice shouted louder. “Do you hear me, girl!?”
“Y– Yes, sir!” she called back, but her voice was small and pathetic. She hated it.
She pushed open the back door, making her way out to the side of the house, their home sitting in a circle of others, all joining at the meeting house. A well sat in the middle of the village, grass covering the ground as Audrey made her way to the washing line that hung from her house to a small post Solomon had hammered into the dirt when he had still lived here.
The village was alive with people, the sun going to rise to the middle of the sky, and Audrey hurried herself up with her chores, knowing she wouldn’t have long to get the house ready in time for Solomon. The chatter from Union echoed around her as she went to work, the market up and running for the morning and men stalked around, going about their jobs. Women gossiped and followed each other between stalls, talking of the news of the day while their children rushed around them in an earnest attempt of being joyful.
Audrey supposed those children were joyful as they laughed and cheered together, disrupting the relaxation of the sunny day, but she was old enough to know it wouldn’t last. Boys and girls playing together in harmony wouldn’t last because soon it would be a question of marriage or sin, prison or freedom. For Audrey, the choice had been made for her, and it ended with prison.
Nearby, Cyrus Miller, the Pastor of Union, was cleaning out the hooves of his horse with his hook, robes adorned in a neat fashion for the job he was doing. For a moment, Audrey watched him, mostly procrastinating, until the usual chant of the Union children began and Audrey’s eyes turned to one person in particular.
“Pastor Miller, blind as a bat,” the children sang, skipping around in a circle with Constance turning on her heel to join in, in the middle. She was the creator of this little, cursed nursery rhyme, and Audrey never expected anything less. “Pastor Miller, blind as a bat! Tried to read the Bible. And his eyes went splat!”
They jumped out at the Pastor, Constance – the ring leader – bearing a wide grin, Audrey sighing with a mix of sadness and wishfulness. She missed hanging out with Constance, of course she did, but she also missed being as free as her. It sucked that her freedom only came with Constance entwined, because that meant she couldn’t have either.
“Oh, but I see you,” Pastor Miller joined in, light-heartedly. He turned away from his horse, hook in his hand as he jumped back at the group of children, his own smile on his face. “I’ve got eyes in the back of my head!”
The group of children dispersed in shrieks, rushing off to their respective houses or friend groups, leaving only Constance chuckling to herself. The red-head’s head turned around at the children pushing past her until she caught sight of something else. Someone else. Her old friend, Audrey Goode, staring over at her with a straw basket filled with clothes under her arm.
CHAPTER ONE
Start from the beginning
