Prologue
Over the first few months, Carrie's hair slowly grew to be golden and tufty. Beth's hair quickly grew into a dark, tangled mane.
Carrie learned to talk at ten months old, Beth following her closely at eleven and a half months.
One day, Sylvia and Albert were sitting in the field outside Webb Place, holding the twins, when Carrie started to cough violently and cry.
Sylvia clutched her baby to her, and started to rock her gently. She hadn't been doing so for very long, however, when she realised that Carrie was struggling to breathe.
"Albert! There's something wrong with Carrie! She's not breathing properly!"
"I'll get Doc Baker,"
"Hurry!"
Albert ran back to the house, and Sylvia saw him hitching up the horses and rushing off to town.
She was sitting there, alone with her babies, Carrie burning up, and Beth screaming.
Albert arrived outside the Doctor's surgery and leapt down from the buckboard, "Help! Doctor Baker! Doctor Baker! Come quick, it's Carrie; she's not breathing!"
Doctor Bake grabbed his bag and climbed onto the Ingalls' buckboard. They raced back to the field, only to find Sylvia sobbing, with Carrie lying still and cold.
"Albert..." she wailed, standing up and going to him with their babies, "Carrie's..." the words choked her, and Albert's eyes filled with tears.
"Doctor?"
"Did you notice any symptoms of a cold? Of catarrh?"
"Her nose was running yesterday,"
Doctor Baker nodded, "Did she have a cough?"
"Doctor, what are- what are you saying?" Albert asked.
"I can't be sure..." the Doctor looked closely at Carrie's body, "...but I think she had whooping cough. Have you been to see anyone with a cough recently?"
"Grace..." Albert murmured, "Grace had it at the beginning of the month,"
"Your sister?"
Albert nodded.
"It's safe enough when you're three or older... but, as a baby..."
"She's dead," Sylvia said quietly. Leaving Beth with Carrie, Albert and Doctor Baker, she walked slowly back to the house in silence.