Her fingers hurt. Her neck ached. That place in her back that had never quite fully healed after the miscarriage sent ripples of pain through her body, and yet she continued. Her head was bent and she squinted at the work in front of her. Mammy and Melanie were both fussing at her that she needed to stop and rest, but she couldn't. They thought that a woman was too delicate to handle something like this, and they expected her to collapse into a pool of tears. The only way that she was holding herself together was to remain as busy as humanly possible. That was how she had managed mother's death and pa's death. Busy hands left little time to think of the pain in her heart.

"Scarlett, darling, please let someone help you. I know that you say that you are fine, but I do wish..." Melanie interrupted her.

"Melanie Wilkes, if you ask me one more time if I am fine or how I am holding up one more time I shall scream" she said through gritted teeth. Even knowing that Melanie was only trying to help did not impede that flash of lightning anger from rising within her. Didn't they understand that asking that question made her think for a moment about the pain and grief. She was fine until she remembered. And she did not want to remember.

"I'm sorry, Melly..." Scarlett whispered in an agonized breath.

"Don't worry about it Darling."

So She focused her bleary eyes upon the white fabric that had been draped over her lap and carefully poked the blue threads through the thin material. With each stitch, the flowers seemed to spring forward from the garment, giving it life and beauty when it seemed that all life and beauty in the world was gone. This was not even her job. No, others had offered, tried to insist even that she needed to be resting and taking care of herself. Mammy insisted that she had never quite recovered from the accident and truth be told she never would quite be the same. But this must be done, this task could not wait. It took precedence over everything else. Even now family was pouring in from all over. Rhett's mother was on her way from Charleston, and Scarlett knew that soon the house would be filled with somber guests, grieving for a child that they didn't even really know. They didn't know her. They didn't have a right to cry. This wasn't their child.

"Miz Scahlutt, Miz Suellen done sent this heah telegram for you." Prissy said as she entered the room, which was completely silent as the mistress of the house worked.

"Thank you, Prissy. That will be all." she returned in a voice that sounded tight and strange to those used to Mrs. Butler's usual tone.

She set the paper aside, already certain of what it would contain, and at the moment she could not tolerate reading the missive. "Melly, could you read that and make whatever arrangements need to be made. I have to finish this."

She looked down at the white muslin that she pinched between her fingers. The stitches were slightly irregular for she had not been responsible for doing any stitching since she had been married to Frank. She had never been a perfect seamstress, nor had she seen the need in it. Even as a child she had never taken pride in her stitchery as mother and mammy had hoped that she would. Both Careen and Suellen were far more proficient than she. But her mother had always taken care of things so that she had not had to. But she could not hand this task off as she had done for so many others. There were not many things that she had taken the time for to make for her child as her own mother had done for her and this was the last thing that she could do.

"Of course, Scarlett darling. Don't worry about it. And if you need anything else you just send for me. I'm going to take Wade and Ella with me so that you don't need to worry about them." Melanie took the slip of paper and set off towards the kitchen to handle the matter for her sister in law.

When Melanie had left the room, Scarlett sighed and closed her stinging eyes. She sat unmoving in the silence, wishing for it to be broken. Wishing that she was brave enough to try and keep the children at the house, if for no other purpose than to shatter the deafening void. But they would be happier and be better off with Melanie and Ashley and Beau than here. They would be better off any where other than here. Anyone would be.

When the front door shut with the slight rustling of starched skirts and the soft pitter patter of the children's feet as they rushed away with their Auntie, Scarlett set the needle aside and cradled the robe in her arms, as if she were holding the child and not merely a piece of cloth. The child would never know of the time that she had spent or the love and grief that had been poured into the small thing. No one would ever know.

It was easier if she did not think about it, far easier to allow someone else to answer the questions than to utter the words herself. It was as if speaking the words made them real. And she was not ready for this reality. She needed to deny it as long as it was possible.

She rose again in silence and made her way up the stairs, looking at the shut doors like a child lost looking for her mother. "Mother," she thought. "Oh, how she wished that mother were here. She needed her mother's arms to hold her so that she could bury her face in mother's chest and empty herself of the building storm of tears."

Finally she chose a door to enter. As she walked into the nursery, still filled with the children's play things, she could not ignore the truth. There was little here that was Bonnie's for many of her favorite things were in her father's room -- her room. And Scarlett was not allowed to enter there. Rhett refused to allow her in and warned all of the servants to abide by his wishes. Bonnie was there. Bonnie was in there in the darkness all alone. And as much as Scarlett wanted to rescue her child, she knew that Rhett would kill her without question for disturbing the child. No, not a child. She was no longer a child. She was an empty lifeless body. Bonnie was not with them anymore.

She wanted her child. Wanted to hold her one more time, and yet she knew that she would never hold her again. She wished that there had been more moments between them. She wished for more time. There had not been enough time-- not nearly enough time to spend with her. Rhett had stolen her time. Rhett had stolen her child.

He was the one that had done this. He had killed Bonnie by allowing her to do exactly as she pleased. He had let her ride that damned pony over a jump that was too tall, even though he had known that it was too high. But he could not deny her anything. He had never disciplined her, never made her mind him. He had never listened to his own wife advisements, not would he allow her to discipline the child. He had loved their child, though it seemed that Bonnie had been more his child than theirs, with a love that bordered on obsession. A love that made Scarlett jealous for she wanted his love to be directed at her as well. She might have been more tolerant if any love had been left for her, but all of his love was consumed, and there was none remaining for his wife.

The nursery always needing tidying, no matter how often Mammy sent one of the maids up to handle it. And with guests coming in from all over, Scarlett wanted everything to look perfect. And besides tidying this room would keep her hands busy, and that was what she needed. There was a pile of books by one of the chairs that Scarlett knew was one of Wade's favorite spots. She picked up the stack and placed them back on the bookshelf that was still within easy reach of Wade's cozy chair. A small table was set with miniature dishes, as if Ella had been waiting for her sister to come and join her for tea.

That was not to be.

Scarlett reached down and picked up a misplaced toy. It was a doll that had once been Bonnie's, before Bonnie had abandoned it for one of the stuffed horses that Rhett had given her. The doll was an expensive one, but dark ringlets clipped from Bonnie's own hair. It was dressed in a blue ballgown, and was painted to resemble the child that it had been made for. It stared up at her with glassy blue eyes, unnerving her with the similarity to her lost child.

Scarlett took the doll with her and sat upon Ella's bed neatly made bed. She gingerly stroked the doll's hair - Bonnie's hair. Her eyes were still dry, but the doll had circumvented her plans to avoid the fact that the child was gone. She slowly pulled the doll close to her body, relishing the weight of it. Her fingers kept stroking the shiny curls, as tears began to seep out unheeded.

She abruptly stood and set the doll in a cradle that had been made for it. She brushed angrily at the tears that were gathering, that she could not seem to stop. They streamed down her face, cascading like a waterfall. She gathered her skirts and rushed towards the door, but the tears continued. And then as she slammed the door from the nursery, the sobs began. She couldn't do this. She shouldn't have to do this. She should not be mourning her child. Her child should not be dead. It was not like a baby that was so fragile, that might very well not make it to a year. No, Bonnie had been strong and vibrant. And the loss of her sent tremors through Scarlett's heart.

She paused for a moment, needing a place to go where the emotions and memories did not completely swallow her. Finally sobbing she ran down the stairs, as one of her hands quivered over the railing at the side. She hurried towards the back of the house, rushing past bewildered servants, but then stopped before she opened the doors to the terrace. She couldn't face looking out there just yet. She wasn't prepared to deal with those memories.

So instead she turned and rushed towards the front of the house to the front door, which she flung open and ran out without a thought other than to flee from her life. It didn't matter that each breath sent stabbing pains through her body, for corsets were not designed to be run in. It mattered little that she didn't even know where she was going. She needed to be away, needed to be anywhere but in this house of death and sadness.

She ran, not watching where she was going or thinking about what she was doing, only wanting to escape from this strangling pain in her heart.

"Scarlett!" someone yelled and she was startled to find a hand yanking her away from the direction that she was running.

She blinked owlishly as she realized that she had made it all the way downtown, and it was Ashley that had jerked her arm so strongly. A speeding carriage whizzed by them, and Scarlett looked at Ashley in surprise. "I.... I.... I...."

"Scarlett, you must be more careful. You could have been killed." he gently chastised.

"Oh, what does it matter?" She exclaimed, her voice shrill and full of anguish. "Its not as if anyone would miss me." She quickly covered her mouth, for she had not meant to say such things to anyone, least of all Ashley. "I shouldn't.."

"Please allow me to take you home. You shouldn't be out. You should be resting."

"Don't start that with me, Ashley Wilkes. If I lie down I'll go crazy. I can't just sit and think about the something. I need to not think. I need to be doing something or I'll scream." She gave him an impassioned plea, but with none of the charm and trickery that she had used all of her life. There was frightening desperate look in her eyes. She held her body like a wounded animal, ready to fight back even if she had nothing to fight back with.

"It's going to be all right, Scarlett." He tried again to soothe her.

"How?" She screeched. "How is it going to be all right? Bonnie is dead. And... and.... well Rhett...."

"Has he gone mad with grief? Has he hurt you?" Ashley prodded.

"No... No... he's just so sick with the grief...." she offered lamely. "Can you take me home? Perhaps I do need to rest."

"Should I get Melly? I know that she wants to help you."

"No, no. I'll be fine. I just found one of Bonnie's dolls, and …."

"You don't need to say more. I'll take you home. Don't worry about anything."

Scarlett nodded, and took a handkerchief from Ashley. "I'll be fine." she repeated.

"This is why you didn't want to remember that day at the mill, isn't? You can be strong and handle it until you remember it is what you have lost." She turned towards him, more tears pouring forth. In that moment she no longer looked like a woman. She looked like a little girl that had lost her way.

"Perhaps not remembering is the only way to survive when you have suffered such losses as you have been dealt. I understand now. I won't remind you again, and selfishly try to make you relive what is best left in the past. I only wish that I was as strong as you." He handed her a handkerchief after he lifted her into carriage, and ten stepped in to join her.

The ride back to the house was made in silence. Ashley to be afraid to ask any questions, on the chance that it would cause more tears, and Scarlett found that a lump had formed in her throat making it impossible to speak.

When they arrived back at the house, Ashley lifted Scarlett from the carriage and kissed her softly on the check. She pulled away from him and trudged slowly back towards the house. She could feel

Ashley's eyes watching her. But she would make it. Somehow she would survive today, and then she would deal with the next. There was no sense in borrowing trouble. She had enough grief already.