Chapter 5

"Jack, are you listening?" Maggie asked.

It had been three nights since Jack had been discovered, and instead of sitting in the cool September wind outside, he was nestled warmly in a chair by the window letting his eyes wander over Maggie as she read aloud.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm listenin'," Jack replied, turning a marvelous shade of crimson.

"Right. Well, then," Maggie continued, "And thereupon we all entered the cave. It was a large, airy place, with a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns. The floor was sand. Before a big fire lay..."

"Someone's coming," Tate said.

Everyone turned their attention to the door through which they could hear footsteps on the stairs.

"It's Aunt Beatrice," Maggie said, closing the book, "Jack, I'm sorry, but could you wait outside the window until she's gone."
"Yeah," Jack said, standing and hurrying to the door.

Just as he closed the door, Aunt Beatrice erupted into the room, a handkerchief in her hand and tears in her eyes.

"Aunt Beatrice, what's wrong?" Maggie asked, moving across the room to her aunt.

"Oh, Margaret," Aunt Beatrice said, pulling the girl to her bosom and sobbing loudly, "my poor, poor Margaret."

"Aunt Beatrice, really, what is wrong?" Maggie asked again, pushing away from her aunt.

"Oh, children, it's your parents. There was a fire at the hotel in Richmond," she said, sobbing louder than before.

"Well, they're all right aren't they?" Maggie asked, as Tate hugged her tightly around her middle.

Aunt Beatrice sniffled, "I'm afraid not. They didn't make it out in time." Here she broke into uncontrollable sobs and wails.

"What do you mean, 'They didn't make it out in time,'" Maggie asked sternly, "You mean…they're dead."

Aunt Beatrice let out a long, loud wail, "Yes."

Jack turned away. He couldn't stand to hear anymore of this. For a long he just stood in the shadows of the balcony, his head resting against the wall, just thinking. He didn't really even know what he was thinking about. His mind wandered every which way: his mother's death; his father in prison; the strike; how Sarah had broken up with him, but he and David remained friends; Santa Fe; Maggie's stories; Spencer, Tate, and Maggie losing their parents. Everything seemed to run together and blur at the edges, leaving him drained and hurting. He was just slumping to the balcony floor when he heard a door slam.

He stood up and turned to see Maggie lying on the floor in her room. As he stood watching her, she stood up, her eyes flooded with tears, and stood before her chest-of-drawers. Sitting on the top of it was what looked to be a very expensive porcelain doll and next to the doll was a framed picture of her family. Jack watched as Maggie picked up the picture, looked at it for a few moments, and then slammed it into the doll's head, knocking it to the floor where it broke into a million pieces. She then threw the picture across the room, causing it to hit the wall and shatter as well. After her tantrum, she fell to the floor and picked up a broken piece of the doll.

Jack quietly moved to the window, opened it, and climbed into Maggie's room.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sitting beside Maggie.

"No," she said, squeezing the piece of glass tightly in her hand.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and wrenched the glass from her hand when small drops of blood began to spill to the floor.

"It's alright," he cooed, taking Maggie's bleeding hand in his own and rubbing her back slowly, "It's alright."

"I loved this doll," Maggie cried.

"It's alright," Jack said again, "Shh. It's alright."

After a long time, Jack pulled away from Maggie and placed his hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Come away with me," he said.

"What?"

"Come away with me. Come live at the lodging house with me. Get away from all this," he said, motioning around the room.

"I can't do that, Jack," Maggie responded, "What about Spencer and Tate?"

"They can come, too," Jack replied.

"What about my parents? They're funeral is on Tuesday, and my father's lawyer is coming in the morning to go over the will."

"Come with me on Wednesday," Jack said.

"What about Aunt Beatrice?"

"She'll be fine without you. She's a big girl; she can take care of herself."

"Jack, I can't just leave," she said, sighing.

"I understand," he said, standing up
"Thank you, Jack," Maggie whispered, as he climbed out of the window and down the balcony.