Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate the kind words and would love to keep hearing them. I apologize for any errors in these chapters. I usually read over my stories dozens of times before I deem them worthy of publication, but because this is a serial piece, I feel the need for haste. I have gone over them and used spell check, but something may escape my attention from time to time. I hope it doesn't distract you from the story.

Chapter Three: Escape

Later that evening, Winnie pretended to prepare for bed. She changed into her pale purple sleeping gown and used the silver brush on her vanity to brush her hair. One hundred strokes a day since she was five. She was nearly halfway through when she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in."

Her father's face appeared from the hallway. "Are you almost ready for bed, Winnie?"

"Yes, almost."

He nodded, but didn't say anything more. Winnie sensed his nervousness and stepped forward to place her hand upon his arm. "Is everything alright, Father?"

Mr. Foster looked into his daughter's eyes and sighed. "No, Winnie, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for that awful scene at dinner. We shouldn't have fought like that with you in the room."

"So, you should have waited until I left?"

"Well…yes. Your mother and I have different views on some issues, but we should never drag you into it."

Winnie pursed her lips and turned back toward her vanity. "It wasn't your fault. Mama never should have spoken to you that way."

"Your mother is a good woman and she means well. She wants you to be happy."

It wasn't in Winnie's nature to disagree, so she kept her mouth shut. Mr. Foster stepped forward and enveloped his daughter into a hug. "She loves you very much," said Mr. Foster. "We both do. We just don't know how to show it sometimes."

Tears sprang to Winnie's eyes, but she brushed them away with the back of her hand so he wouldn't notice. If there was anyone she would miss when she went away, it was her father. When he started to pull away, her heart resisted because she knew that she would probably never hug him again.

"Good night, sweetheart," Mr. Foster said kindly as he turned toward the door. "You remember what I said now." With a small smile, he disappeared into the hallway and closed her bedroom door.

"Goodnight, Father," Winnie whispered. "Goodnight forever."

She was almost ready to climb into bed when she heard a sharp tapping at the door. "Winifred, are you dressed?"

Winnie stepped forward and opened her door, letting her mother come into her room. Mrs. Foster walked in hesitantly, choosing to focus on the setting rather than her daughter. Slowly, her eyes drifted to Winnie's hair, which was now woven into a loose braid that trailed down her back. "Did you brush your hair?"

"Yes, Mama."

She nodded stifly. "Good girl. You want to keep that hair pretty, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Foster attempted a small smile. "I always did think your hair was your finest feature. It reminded me of my hair when I was your age." Her eyes finally locked with Winnie's and she paused. "However, you do have your father's eyes."

Winnie's breath caught in her throat. "Is that good?"

"I should say so. I fell in love with those eyes." Realizing what she had just revealed, Winnie's mother blushed slightly and turned away to straighten the dust ruffle on the bed. Winnie didn't know what to say, so she stood still until her mother finished.

"Well, it's late, so you should sleep now. Don't forget to say your prayers."

Winnie nodded. "No, Mama. I won't."

"I know you won't. Sleep well." Mrs. Foster leaned forward to give Winnie a quick peck on the cheek, then disappeared through the door before Winnie could reciprocate. A lump appeared in the back of her throat, but she ignored it. Then she climbed into bed and waited for midnight.

It felt much like the night she waited for Jesse to arrive so they could help Ma Tuck escape from jail. Every minute seemed to last an hour and every hour was a week. Winnie could hear the downstairs grandfather clock chiming 9:00 and sighed. Three more hours. By then, both of her parents would be sound asleep and would not hear their daughter rustling around in her room. To occupy herself, Winnie imagined what it would be like to see the Tucks again. Miles and Pa Tuck would sweep her up into their arms and Ma Tuck would grasp her in a firm hug and kiss her on her cheek. She was imagining what Jesse might do when she drifted off to sleep.

She awoke hours later to a silent house. Horrified that she had slept too long, Winnie jumped out of bed and moved quickly to the window. The moon hung high in the sky, but it was still visible, which Winnie took as a good sign. Without making too much noise, she walked over to her closet, where she had placed the bag she had packed earlier. Inside, she had included three changes of clothing, all of the money she had saved throughout the years, and the bottle of spring water. She removed one of the dresses from the satchel and changed out of her nightgown, then put the bottle into her pocket. Then she lifted the bag from the ground and crossed over to the window again, where she stared at the nails holding it in place.

If only Miles were here, she thought. He would know what to do. Winnie brushed her fingers lightly over the cool surface of the window. Perhaps she should try making her exit through the front door.

The stairs creaked softly as Winnie's shoes padded against them. Every noise, no matter how quiet, echoed in her head like a trumpet blast. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when she reached the bottom of the stairs and walked slowly toward the door. When she reached it, she turned back for one last look at the dark, beautiful rooms that had been her home for the past seventeen years. She tried to memorize the features, which, at one time, seemed unforgettable. Now, it felt as though they might leave her brain the moment she stepped foot outside of the house.

Stop it! Don't think about things like that, she chided herself. You are about to embark on a wonderful adventure and you can't cloud your judgment with feelings of homesickness. Now turn around right now and open that door.

Before she could lose her nerve, Winnie escaped through the front door and closed it softly behind her.