Involved: Day 5

Word Count: 30,077

Summary of Events:

Charlotte, prompted by her chat with Violet, went to their father and expressed her upset that the women of the church seemed intent to pressure her into marriage, which her father decided would be, in a way, the topic of his next sermon. Samuel watched the procession of hearses bearing the bodies of his sister, niece, and nephews arrive before crying himself to sleep; when he woke up he went to the funeral parlour and looked at the bodies, breaking down again at the sight of his lifeless sister . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

When he felt a light little touch on his arm he startled violently and turned to see a girl smaller than lifeless Orlena, but fully alive, with large blue eyes and rich brown hair — coffee auburn was what Isabelle had always called it — that was held back in a braid.

She looked at him a little warily, her big eyes reddened at the edges and glistening like new marbles, but didn’t show any hesitation when she reached forward and clutched the sleeve that covered his forearm.

“Are you Uncle SJ?” she asked quietly, the subtlest of tremors to her voice.

Cautiously Samuel slid his gaze toward the people; he felt a little shocked when he saw there was no longer a cluster of people, there was just Kelly, an arm in a sling, the protruding hand bandaged, unabashedly weeping, and a girl half the enquiring one’s size, her hair in two braids, looking at him with seemingly larger, warier eyes that were also red-rimmed, the glistening trails still showing over her slightly chubby little cheeks.

Samuel looked down again; there was no doubt these two little girls were his last remaining nieces, Ella and Verbena.

Ella looked at him earnestly. “Are you Uncle SJ?”

“Yes,” Samuel replied quietly.

He startled when Ella wrapped her arms about his waist and squeezed tightly. He’d met her once, and she’d probably been about as old as little Verbena sitting and silently crying beside their devastated father.

After far longer than Samuel appreciated Ella released her hold and looked up at him with an expression that seemed awfully happy for a little girl whose family had just been eviscerated by a deadly train crash.

“Mama would be happy,” Ella said quietly. “She wanted to visit you again after the baby came. She said she’d visited you once when I was little, but I don’t remember it.”

“Then how do you know who I am?” Samuel asked, feeling a little defensive.

“Mama showed us your picture,” Ella replied.

Samuel shouldn’t have been surprised that Isabelle would talk about him so much, considering how close they’d been, he might’ve done the same to his children except that he had none — which was just how he wanted it.

Still, probably the last picture he’d ever had taken of himself was when he’d last gone home, which had been shortly after Phyllis had gotten married — nearly ten years ago now — and had insisted that everyone have their portrait taken by her father-in-law, who was a photographer; Samuel had been hardly more than twenty then, surely he’d changed in ten years.

“Are you going to stay at our house Uncle SJ?” Ella asked, looking eager.

“No,” Samuel replied. “I’ve got another place to stay.”

Ella looked crestfallen, but Samuel didn’t pity her; did she really think he’d want to sleep in the same house his sister had made a home when she would no longer be there to maintain it and breathe life into it?