Page 79 of The Lost Hours
We sent Josie to find her brother to let him know. He has been in hiding, so even she doesn’t know where to find him, but knows who to speak to in order to get word out.
Annabelle said this could take some time and to try and keep myself occupied. I’m writing now but I can see that as the pains grow stronger and more frequent I will no longer be able.
I spent time reading over this scrapbook, and I’m glad that Annabelle has made us do this. It will be something we’ll cherish when we’re old. I read over my last entry, how I wrote about our friendship helping us weather any storm. How appropriate! Just as my pains started, the sky brought in thick gray clouds. A storm is coming, the thunder already on the horizon, the approaching sound sending waves of panic through me. I close my eyes, and lie back, and pray for the storm to be over soon.
Slowly, Piper lowered the page. “That’s the last page. But that’s not the end of the story, is it?”
The murmur of voices began again, the river of words that seemed to travel around Lillian and through her, too fast for her to understand them. But she thought she could hear Annabelle, telling her to breathe, that it would help take the pain away, and that one day the pain might be useful to her.
Lillian turned her head, the fine linen scratching her cheek, the bed now seeming to be a small, iron single bed instead of the mahogany rice poster. “No, it’s not,” she said, closing her eyes so she couldn’t see the ghosts anymore.
Helen’s voice came close to her ear. “What happened to the baby, Malily? Was it stillborn?”
“You need to leave,” Lillian whispered, hoping Helen would understand it was for her own good.
“Was he?” she repeated.
Lillian’s eyes fluttered open and rested on her granddaughter. “If I tell you, will you promise to leave?”
There was a brief pause while Helen considered this. She nodded. “And Piper?”
“She wouldn’t leave, even if I asked her.”
Helen nodded. “Tell us, then. Was the baby stillborn?”
She closed her eyes again, remembering. “No. He was born healthy and strong, with all ten fingers and toes. He was perfect.”
“Then tell us what happened, Malily. How did Samuel die?”
Lillian heard Josie’s voice now, from behind her, mixing with Annabelle’s like a chant.Tell her.She shook her head, trying to erase the voices. “Somebody turn on the radio. Please.”
Piper stood and moved to the nightstand and flipped on the radio, the volume loud and pulsing. Josie’s voice came through the radio, clear and sweet and full of all the hours lost between truth and regret.Time is a river, and it ain’t got no banks; I can’t go nowhere but down, down to the place the heart breaks.
Lillian jerked her arm from the blanket and slammed her hand down on the radio, shutting it off, the silence a solid presence in the room. “I need you to leave, Helen.”
Piper and Lillian watched as Helen made her way to the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “Did you ever love Grandpa Charlie?”
“I did. He was good to me, and I grew to love him.”
“But Freddie was your true love. The one you really never got over.”
She didn’t want to answer, but she had no more time for secrets and lies. “Yes, he was.”
Helen nodded. “I love you, Malily. Nothing I’ve heard so far and nothing you can say will change that.” She rested her forehead against the door. “And I’m going to find out anyway. You were the one who used to tell me never to hesitate when it comes to what I want, remember?”
Lillian closed her eyes again. “You don’t want this.”
Helen opened the door and Lillian briefly glimpsed Odella standing and taking Helen’s arm before the door closed.
Piper stood at the window, peering out at the alley of oaks, her body rigid with tension.
“You’ll want to sit down.”
Piper shook her head. “No, I want to stand.”
The corner of Lillian’s mouth turned up. “Annabelle didn’t like being told what to do, either. Her only weakness was when she thought those she loved needed her. Always to her detriment, I’m afraid.”
Piper returned her gaze to the window. “So what happened? After Samuel was born.”
