4: 4

After they cut off my hair, my fever came and went for four days.

Marjorie dropped her old attitude and stayed at my bedside.

She brought tea, kept the water coming, changed the towels, cooked porridge.

Nothing overlooked.

On the second day she even went to the pharmacy for fever pills and vitamins, counting them out one by one and setting them on the nightstand.

Even the landlady next door said your mother's so good to you.

I didn't answer.

I was waiting.

I knew she wouldn't be good to me for nothing.

The fourth night, late.

My fever was up to a hundred and one, my whole body limp, and half asleep I heard something in the kitchen.

Then the sound of herbs rolling in a pot.

Half an hour later, Marjorie came to my bed with a bowl of dark brown medicine broth.

"Maud, drink your medicine."

She propped me up and brought the spoon to my lips.

I cracked my eyes open and looked at the bowl.

Darker than ordinary herbal medicine, with a bitterness I couldn't place, covering a sweet, raw undertaste.

"This is a calming remedy from Reginald in the village. Drink it and you'll be fine."

I drank it.

Not because I trusted her.

Because before she came, I'd already put something under my pillow.

A micro camera, lens pointed straight at the bed.

The little red light blinked on and off beneath the pillowcase.

After the broth went down, the drowsiness came fast.

Ten times faster than any fever pill.

My eyelids were heavy as stone, my arms and legs too soft to lift.

I bit down on the tip of my tongue and fought to stay awake.

Ten minutes later, she moved. "Wallis, come in."

The door opened. My cousin's footsteps were light.

Then the sound of things being rifled through.

Marjorie lifted my limp right hand, pried my fingers open, and pressed them into a box of red ink.

Cold, wet.

Then the rustle of paper unfolding.

My fingers were pressed down onto something.

"That's it, right?" Wallis whispered.

"Mm." No hesitation in Marjorie's voice.

"Gordon's waiting on collateral. Without that shop your grandfather left Maud transferred over, there's no loan."

She paused, then murmured to herself in a voice full of tenderness.

"She's not even married. A woman alone can't hold on to a place like that. Someone would swindle it out of her sooner or later. Signing it over to you is just keeping it safe for her."

Wallis chimed in. "Once my husband's business does well, I'll take good care of you, sis."

They tucked the paper away.

The footsteps faded.

I counted to sixty before I slowly opened my eyes.

The drug had my head heavy as lead, but I forced myself to sit up.

I felt for the micro camera under the pillow and hit playback.

The picture was clear.

She gently pried my fingers open, pressed them into the red ink, then down onto the paper that read "Property Gift Agreement."

Every move, plain as day.

Fighting the dizziness, I climbed off the bed and stuffed what I needed into the suitcase.

The camera, my ID, my bank cards.

The door was locked from the outside.

I looked at the lock, then at the iron hammer on the shoe cabinet.

One swing and the cylinder shot loose.

Near the edge of the village, I saw firelight.

The village chief stood in front of a fence, flashlight in hand, more than a dozen villagers behind him, some holding torches.

Marjorie was there too.

Her eyes were red, but her face wasn't panic. It was fury.

"Stop right there!" The chief stepped forward to block me.

"Maud Henson, you called off a wedding, you carry bad luck. Leaving the village early brings down heaven's wrath. This has been Willow Creek's rule for a hundred years!"

A few of the older women echoed him, pointing.

Marjorie stood in the crowd, shaking her head, crying.

"Maud, go back. Go back and Mom won't hold it against you."

I looked at her and said nothing.

I just kicked the fence down and strode out of the village. (Paywall)