Testing: Day 5

Word Count: 30,016

Summary of Events:

Gabriel ended up dislocating his shoulder while trying not to fall at his work, and so as to aid his recovery was ordered off work for a few weeks. Ivy got ready for the funeral and sat through it numbly, wishing instead it'd been her wedding. Gabriel was out working with his horses — being as no heavy lifting was required there — and watched the burial, noticing a beautiful young woman lingering at the graveside. Ivy sat through the visiting after the funeral for longer than she wanted before making her escape to sit at Thomas' graveside again and mourn his loss, along with finally dredging up memories of her older sister who'd died years ago. Gabriel was sitting and reading indoors when some new guests arrived at Mrs. Goddard's house; they happened to be his former teacher, who was convinced he should remember her, and her husband.

Excerpt of the Day:

"Gently setting his hands on her shoulders, Gabriel looked down into Mrs. Lindmark's eyes.

"I am very sorry that I do not remember you," Gabriel said. "But, as much as I can remember many a thing, there are some things that even my mind considers unnecessary to retain, and you were one of those things."

"How dare you say such a thing!?" Mrs. Lindmark cried, shoving Gabriel, who released his grip. "How dare you say it was unnecessary of you to remember me!?"

"I haven't seen you in more than twenty years!" Gabriel exclaimed. "Why should I remember you? If I had been older when I'd known you, maybe, but as a child, there really is no sense."

Mrs. Goddard grabbed Gabriel's arm to feed it back into the sling. Gabriel pulled it away and looked at her with a touch of irritation before removing the sling from around his neck and giving it to her.

"I remember the first time I saw you as clearly as I see you now!" Mrs. Lindmark exclaimed.

"Yes, and you were about twenty one at the time, you should be able to remember those sorts of things," Gabriel replied.

"You were the tiniest thing," Mrs. Lindmark said. "So delicate, your head wreathed in a golden halo of light, so soft as silk, eyes bluer than the sky itself, such a precious thing in my arms as I minded you. I've never loved a child more than that, nor will I ever. My first child."

Gabriel startled and took a step back. His heart was pounding. No. That couldn't be true.

"Mr. Ræder, I'm sorry," Mr. Lindmark said, putting a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "I tried sending letters to you several times, but I believe they were all put into the fire, and not into the postbox."

Gabriel turned to stare at Mr. Lindmark. He felt cold.

"I do believe my wife is slightly infirm," Mr. Lindmark went on. "And this affection of you which she possesses has come to delude her to the point of believing that you are her offspring, and not the offspring of your parents, but I can pledge to you on my honour and on the honour of your own father that you are the son of Sigmund and Karolina Ræder, and not the son of Sigmund Ræder and Greta Klaassen, nor the son of Daniel and Greta Lindmark."

"Thank you," Gabriel whispered. He couldn't say he'd ever felt a greater terror than he had in that moment, and the relief that rushed through him at Mr. Lindmark's words was like rain in the desert."