Chapter One
Eight Years Later: 1893
"Ma?" Beth tugged at her mother's skirt.
Sylvia turned to look at her daughter, "What is it?"
"Who's Caroline Mary?"
Sylvia's eyes went wide, "What?" It was the first time Beth had mentioned her twin's name since Carrie died, "Where did you hear about her?"
"We're doing a project at school, and Miss Plum took us to the graveyard to look at the names,"
"Oh," Sylvia nodded slowly, "And... that's where you heard about... about her?"
"Yes. Who is she?"
Sylvia sighed. She'd known Beth would ask one day, but she'd wanted to wait for her to bring it up herself, "I think you should sit down, sweetie,"
Beth sat on the floor at her mother's feet, "Tell me,"
Sylvia took a deep breath and began, "A long time ago, way back just after you were born, my Pa died. Did you see a stone for Hector Webb? That's him. He died just before your Pa and I got married. When we'd been married for a year, I went to hospital and I had two babies. There was you, of course, Elizabeth Lavinia, and... another baby. Caroline Mary – after your grandmothers,"
"I have a sister?"
"The Summer you turned one, we went to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Iowa. Auntie Grace had whooping cough, and Caroline – we called her Carrie – caught it. One day, she started coughing, and... by the time the Doctor got there... it was too late,"
Beth nodded slowly, and looked at the floor. She gulped back a sob, and said, "Why is she Caroline Mary Ingalls, but I'm Elizabeth Lavinia Quinn?"
Sylvia, who had remained calm through this, explained, "After Carrie died, your Pa blamed Grandpa, and said he didn't want his name anymore – we asked Uncle Adam to make it all legal, and changed our name to Quinn,"
"Why Quinn?"
"Grandma and Grandpa aren't your grandmother and grandfather – they adopted your Pa when his father died. Before that, he was Albert Quinn, and he wanted to go back to being Albert Quinn,"
Beth stood up, "Am I really your daughter?"
"Yes, darling. Come here," Sylvia leaned forward and gave Beth a hug.
Together, they stood in the kitchen, crying – a long overdue flood of grief.