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TW/CW: just a little light classism/ racism issues touched on here

Dog Days Are Over

Happiness, hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The horses are coming so you better run

Run fast for your mother run fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

Dorothy

1931

"Come on!" Emmett took my hand as we ran through the fields recklessly.

"Slow down! I can't run that fast." I laughed, but tossed my head back in a euphoria I didn't know how to explain.

"Well, we got places to be, Dorothy!" He grinned so his dimples deepened in his cheeks as he winked in my direction.

As the sparks of a bonfire began to light up in our sight line, my stomach flipped.

Emmett was the rebellious one.

He was sweet as honey and good through and through, but he was wild as a buck.

Everybody from here to the state line knew it.

He was far more comfortable sneaking out and breaking our parents' rules than I was and I worried they'd know we'd gone to a party outside of town.

Emmett stood just as tall as our father now and was still growing like a weed, but that didn't stop our father from still knocking Emmett around, and Emmett let him - for the most part.

Emmett's black eye darkened around his eye socket as I looked over at him thinking how just yesterday Emmett'd gotten his lights knocked out for something so minuscule I'd already forgotten what it was.

Em caused trouble like a habit, and took those consequences nonchalantly.

Me though, I was afraid of consequences to misbehaving, so I didn't dare.

Until now.

A fiddle or two, some crude drums and a harmonica echoed through the midnight air. My breath burned in my chest excitedly as I saw groups of people begin to grow clearer in my vision.

Now, I was excited. More excited than nervous.

Emmett and I ran freely, and I picked my knees up high in this tall grass as I followed his trail.

As we slowed to a walk approaching the bonfire, Emmett let go of my hand right as June Pritchett squealed in her running start to jump into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him proper.

I rolled my eyes, turning away. I would've tossed my lunch if I'd eaten any.

You'd think she had some tact kissing my brother for the whole town to see…

But then again, she was probably kissing him like that so the other girls here would see and be too intimidated to try anything.

They still would though.

There were very few things in this world that I hated, but watching women around Emmett was one of them.

Every girl within a 50 mile radius was immediately made wild about him. It made it very difficult for me to have girl friends…

But then again, Emmett said the same thing about me and the reason he couldn't have male friends too… I didn't see it, but he insisted every guy in town was just dizzy over me.

I wasn't impressed.

"Well my oh my, hello to you too, Miss June." Emmett grinned.

"You been fightin' again, Em?" Her big, round green eyes darted over his face, seeing his black eye and stitched up brow as she unwound herself from him.

"Always." He told her, obviously wanting to dismiss the subject. "Now you've saved a dance for me right?"

Emmett reached into his pockets to produce a cigarette and some matches. As he hung a cigarette from his lips, June reached up under her skirt.

Emmett raised an eyebrow.

I was mortified.

She produced a flask, winking as she handed it to him. I realized that 'dance' was code for alcohol…

Her daddy was a moonshiner, but he still looked down on our family like we were a bunch of no-good trash.

We were poor, but so was everyone else around here. The reason Emmett wasn't good enough for June, in her father's eyes, was that he was half Irish…

Still in a rebellion against her father, she'd been seeing Emmett for the better half of the spring. You could see the flush of young love in her face, but it was definitely far from his.

The girl that had his attention most was actually the town preacher's daughter, Dolly Reed.

I knew he liked her because she made it difficult for him, and girls most often never did.

Dolly Reed was beautiful sure, but she was distant and that's what seemed to attract Emmett's attention most.

And, it didn't hurt that she had long blonde hair and legs up to her neck.

Mama didn't approve because she wasn't Catholic, but she was better than the gals he usually hung around, so she didn't say anything about it.

Of course she wouldn't be here at this party though, so he was free to flirt with whomever he wanted.

"Emmett." I scolded, knowing he'd gotten in trouble with the laws just last week for drinking.

I didn't understand his fixation.

"Oh lighten up, Dorothy." He dismissed, taking a long drink.

"It's not all bad." June tried to reason with me, tucking her curly chocolate brown behind her ear. "And Prohibition don't exist this far outta town."

Emmett grinned at her, then took a long drag of his cigarette, seeming to glow in a way I hadn't seen him glow in a long time.

It had nothing to do with June and everything to do with getting away from the crushing pressures of hard work and a mean as a snake father.

We were free for the night.

"Come on, celebrate." He put his arm around my shoulders and offered me the flask.

I looked at it for a long while, thinking about all the awful things our father did when he drank and not really wanting to partake.

"Maybe later." I looked up at Em, communicating with my eyes in a way only twins could communicate.

"All right then." He nodded, satisfied, but kept his arm around my shoulder as we walked over to the party.

June crossed her arms over her chest, walking away from us. I knew what Emmett was doing and I snickered privately.

He didn't want to look committed to her in case there were other options at this party. But then again, he really wasn't committed to her. He wasn't committed to anyone.

People were hooping and hollering and dancing at the party, and I realized then, a smile had spread across my face.

"Well, looks like they'll just invite any old crumb to these clam bakes." Harry Wilson teased Emmett familiarly, and Emmett unwound his arm from me to shove Harry's shoulder with a playful laugh.

"Well, you're lookin' mighty swell, Dorothy." Harry ran a hand through his hair and grinned at me flirtatiously, once he'd escaped. "Happy birthday."

"Hey hey hey, keep your lousy peepers off my sister." Emmett raised his eyebrows, but he wasn't joking.

Harry stepped back with his hands up, but kept his eyes fighting for mine.

My gaze though was already looking for someone else, and my stomach was filled with butterflies of anticipation…

I saw him, on the outskirts of the party, dancing. He was… luminous.

Sam Sanders tossed his head back, laughing fully and freely as he moved to the music alongside a small group of his friends and his kid sister, Ira. She was just a year younger than us, but she was skinny as a rail, tiny framed, and had a sing-songy high pitched voice so everybody called her Baby.

Sam caught my gaze from across the field.

I attached myself to Emmett's side, my legs feeling weak all of a sudden.

Emmett was tragically social in this moment of my own haste. He was charismatic and magnetic, so everyone had something to say to us, but we eventually made our rounds and when Emmett's second cigarette was out, it was time.

Emmett was grinning wide, his arm around my shoulder as we walked over. I was thankful for his arm around my shoulder though as it helped steady my nerves.

Some of the others in the group watched us with caution as their dancing slowed, their dark eyes heavy on us. I was too naive to know they were apprehensive to why white people would be approaching them, and afraid we were going to ask them to leave.

"Well, would you look at that. You finally made it!" Sam grinned over at us, dispelling the tension as we approached.

"Better late than never, I always say." Emmett snickered as he clapped Sam on the back, hugging him close to the wide eyes of just about everyone at this shindig.

Emmett and Sam didn't care though.

And, neither did I.

"Though, we would've been on time if Dorothy hadn't braided her hair. It takes 'bout a thousand years."

"Well, it's certainly lovely." Sam complimented easily, his rich, velvet voice making my heart skip a beat. "Baby said Caroline was out pickin' flowers for you all day."

"Thank you." I twisted my hair around my fingers, grinning as I thought about braiding the flowers in so he'd notice.

I caught Sam's eyes in a way that made me wonder…

"Hey Em, Hey Dorothy." Baby appeared at Sam's side. "Happy birthday."

"Lord, you get prettier every day, Baby. You tell me if any boys'er givin' you trouble, you hear?" Emmett grinned reaching to put his arm around her.

She rolled her eyes, but accepted his kiss on the cheek. "I'll be sure to let you know when a boy pays me any attention."

I saw she had her gaze on the guy in the center of the dancing circle. I didn't know him; he must have been from the other side of town.

"Oh, you know I'd give you all the attention in the world, if Sam wasn't so protective of you." Emmett teased her playfully. "And, if that guy wasn't already staring at you. He's so jealous of me, havin my arm around you."

"What guy?" Baby's eyes went wide, but she tittered like a school girl.

"You know very well what guy. Go get 'em." Emmett urged.

Baby hugged to his side, loving him like he was her second brother, and she lit up in laughter.

I half wondered if that's what Sam thought about me…

I hoped desperately that Sam didn't think of me as his sister.

I blushed.

"Stay out of trouble, Em." She winked before heading back to the dancing, filled with confidence.

Emmett had a way of doing that to people, filling them with boldness. I hoped it would rub off on me next.

I watched her approach the guy she'd had her sights set on, and he offered his hand, twirling her under it.

I wished I could be so bold.

The music was contagious and braided through the air and made it difficult not to want to join in on the dancing too.

Sam caught my lingering gaze on all the dancing, and I took a deep breath.

"Emmett… You… uh, wouldn't mind too much if I asked Dorothy to dance with me, would you? It being a special occasion and all." Sam drug the toe of his boot in the sand shyly.

My heart thudded in my chest, and I twisted my hands together in front of me, begging him with my gaze and hoping he could feel it, but not too obviously.

Emmett froze, his big brown eyes wide. He'd actually been taken aback, seeing clearly for the very first time...

Sam didn't think of me as a sister... or a friend...

It was the edge of something more.

"You wanna dance with him, Dorothy?" Emmett asked, evident nervousness in his voice as he practically combusted.

Sam was his best friend. We'd grown up together swimming in the creek, teasing each other, playing pranks...

But now...

I nodded, not exhaling yet. I was still nervous.

Emmett read it all over my face. He knew how I felt.

Then, his dimples showed happily on his cheeks, deepening around the corners of his soft smile.

"Just don't step on her feet or I'll kill ya, you cement mixer." Emmett teased Sam about his dancing, trying to break through the awkwardness, but Emmett's usually humor filled voice held an edge of deep seriousness.

I exhaled.

"I won't. I swear to you, Em." Sam said powerfully, and I knew then that they were talking about more than dancing.

Emmett reached in his pocket to produce another cigarette, lighting it in his anxious habit, but he nodded us off his with his blessing.

I was floating on air then, and Sam held out his hand.

I took it, my heart feeling heavy and light all in the same moment.

I was nervous.

When he twirled me under his arm and into a close, dancing position, I was breathless.

I looked up into his eyes, melting into the depths of them.

"You look beautiful, Dorothy." He said, honey sweetness dripping off the sound.

"Thank you." I said, still nervous.

But, he grinned down at me, and all that nervousness dispelled.

I stepped closer to him in this moment of comforted bliss, nothing else in the world mattering.

"I know it doesn't quite compare to the flowers Caroline picked for you, but…" His focus dropped as he fished in his pocket to produce a little crinkled wildflower for me.

Butterflies flew through my center and I smiled.

"It's beautiful." I commented. "I love it."

In this phrase though, I'd told him I loved him.

And, God, I already meant it. Our souls were made of the same fiber.

"May I?" He asked charmingly before he tucked the flower into my long, raven black curls.

Present

"Do you like it?" The hairdresser turned me around to face the mirror with a hopeful smile.

As the chair turned, I caught sight of all the black hair lying piled in the floor and I was intimidated, swallowing my nervousness before I caught the girl in the mirror.

I gasped, both my hands coming to my mouth in shock.

I didn't recognize myself.

"Oh no. It'll grow back!" Vera comforted me from the side of the room, rocking her new baby, Lillian in her arms to keep her entertained.

I just nodded, my hands moving now to my perfectly curled black hair that had been cut from my lower back to bobbed at the middle of my neck.

24 inches of hair was lying in the floor around the barber's chair.

I remembered braiding and unbraiding my hair a thousand times over.

1, 2, 3.

Over, under, over, under.

I remembered Ruthie hiding underneath the black curtain of it while I told her a story.

I remembered Emmett tugging on the end of my braid to tease me as he passed by.

I remembered Sam putting a flower behind my ear and into my long, loose curls...

My heart began to beat faster and faster in my chest and my eyes started to water.

"Oh, I can't have anybody crying in my chair." The hairdresser went on, nervously wringing her hands. "I think you look beautiful. It looks swell, truly!"

"Do you like it?" I asked Vera turning toward her in anticipation.

"I love it." She gave me a nice, kind smile. "Really."

"Really?" I confirmed, turning my head this way and that.

I wasn't used to how light my head felt whether it was the hair or my nerves.

"It's so stylish. It's how everyone's wearing their hair these days in Europe." The hairdresser tried to claim.

"It's different." Vera confirmed, warmth in her eyes.

Henry peeked his head around her legs, playing a game of peek a boo with himself in the mirror and giggling wildly, asking her to look.

He tried to pick up some of my hair from the floor, but Vera scolded him. He was getting rambunctious.

I exhaled.

"It's different." I settled.

As I caught my reflection, it wasn't the only thing that was different and as drastic as that haircut had been that wasn't the most drastic change in me.

The bruises had faded, the scabs had healed. They were a long gone nightmare.

My lips were rosy pink to match the healthy color in my cheeks. My figure had filled out a bit so I almost had a little shape, and it was especially accentuated with the new yellow dress I wore.

But, where I saw the change the most was in my eyes.

They sparkled a little.

Yes, my eyes had seen sadness and unimaginable horror, but they looked... hopeful in the thought that maybe there was still some good left for me. I was optimistic that darkness wasn't all I would know.

Vivien gave me that.

"I love it." I breathed, turning to the hairdresser. "I needed different."

"You did." Vera agreed with a knowing smile.

As Vera and I were walking home later, the streets were beautifully festive with Halloween decorations and a little nip in the air made the tips of our ears and noses turn pink.

I curled inside my jacket, and reached to make sure Lillian was bundled up enough in her carriage.

October was a beautiful time of year, filled with the newness of autumn, change evident in every breath.

I'd never experienced an autumn like this though. There weren't this many colors in the South. Now every tree was dressed for the occasion.

Vera stopped in her tracks a couple blocks from home, taking a sharp inhale as we approached

"Beware: Ghost of Rosalie Hale" was painted in red to look like blood on the side of a mailbox.

Though, it took me a while to put the letters together, I was proud to read it, even if it was an ominous message. I had been practicing every day and reading to Henry and Lillian really did help me learn. Vera was a patient, loving teacher and I didn't feel judged by her as I told her I'd never really gone to school.

A man a little older than my father was scrubbing the paint away furiously, keeping his head down to avoid conversation, even as Vera and I approached.

I heard young teens and mischievous boys on bikes whispering and tittering as they passed by the house that had been deemed haunted.

"Robert." Vera approached the man tentatively.

The man looked up, his eyes as grey as his hair was turning. He would've been a very handsome man about 10 years ago, but stress and age wore on his face and weighed on the edges of his mouth.

"Mrs. Fitzgerald." He nodded, his voice full of emotion I didn't understand as he looked over Vera with ancient familiarity and an odd sadness.

"And Miss McCarty." Vera introduced me. "My guest."

"How do you do?" I extended my gloved hand, my mousy voice vibrating in my throat nervously as I read the man's tragic energy.

"I think of your family often." Vera said, her voice trembling slightly and her eyes darting down to the ground.

"I heard about your new daughter. Congratulations." The man spoke with pain seeming to redirect.

His eyes lingered on the pink blanket and the baby carriage I was pushing.

"Can I see her?" He asked Vera with heartbroken wonder and want.

Vera nodded, reaching in the carriage to produce a beautiful bundle of perfect pink.

I couldn't help but smile as I looked at her.

The man named Robert's breath caught in his throat and he cleared it to keep from getting emotional.

"Her name's Lillian." Vera whispered and this meant something to this man named Robert as his eyes got glassy.

"I know Rosalie would've loved that." Robert murmured, his voice seeming to ache in his mouth.

Vera just nodded, returning the baby to its carriage.

"I pray for you every day." Vera whispered privately.

Robert nodded.

"Be safe walking home." He warned with a fire in his eyes. "Would you like for me to escort you?"

It was the middle of the afternoon. No one would even think about needing an escort.

But, he seemed to operate with irrational cautiousness.

"We'll be all right, Mr. Hale." Vera acknowledged and I put the pieces together then.

Rosalie was his ghost and something tragic had befallen her.

I didn't ask about Vera's odd exchange this afternoon, but I heard her cry in the bathroom when we got home and I was getting dinner ready.

My chest ached knowing that there was pain around me I couldn't fix, and the ghost of Rosalie Hale haunted me throughout the evening and until I got the children into bed.

As I finished my duties and retired to my bedroom, I noticed Vera was already sitting on the chair at my vanity before I walked in.

"She was my best friend." Vera began, her face pale in the moonlight.

I was still shocked to see her in my room as she turned to look at me, but I was also taken aback with Vera's opening up to me.

"She's been gone for a couple years now, but it hurts like it was yesterday." Vera went on.

"I'm so sorry." I swallowed, shutting the door behind me as I knew she wanted to have a private conversation with me.

I could hear her husband listening to FDR downstairs on the radio.

Vera just nodded.

"That was her father we saw today."

"He seemed very sad." I nodded, responding only as I knew how to, with observations.

"Every year around this time is hard for the Hales because the kids in town want to make Rosalie into some sort of ghost…"

"Her death was… scandalous, but... it just doesn't make sense." Vera exhaled, a lone tear dripping down her cheek.

I clenched my teeth nervously.

"Her life was perfect. She had everything she wanted... She was... happy." Vera emphasized. "I just... I didn't see it coming when she… killed herself… I should've seen it coming..."

"You can't blame yourself." I said softly.

"But I do." Vera exhaled. "I still do."

I had an urge to hug Vera, and so I did and she cried into my shoulder as I provided a shred of comfort to her darkness.

"I was the last person to see her alive." Vera sniffled. "She was… so happy that night… That's what I kept telling the police… Her fiancé… Her parents…"

"Sometimes... I think..." Vera took a sharp inhale as she cried. "I think... Oh, God I just sound insane."

Vera had been struggling getting back to normal after having Lillian and her mind sent her to dark depths of depression more often than not.

I worried this was another episode.

She was especially thankful to have me to help her through it and make sure the house was kept and the children were taken care of. Her depression reminded me a lot of my mother, though Vera processed hers in softness and my mother was just distant and cold.

Vera's heart was heavy now though for an external reason.

"No, it's okay." I tried to comfort her, searching her face for answers. "I'm here to listen."

"I think... I think she was murdered." Vera exhaled. "I know this sounds crazy, but it's late and I'm tired and I'll forget about it in the morning I swear to it. I'm just tired, and I can't talk about this to anyone else…"

I frowned.

"What makes you think that she was killed?" I asked in a ghostly tone, halfway assuming that perhaps she was just getting swept up in the morbidity of the holiday.

However, I saw the seriousness in her eyes and it made me shiver. I was sincere though, as I was here to listen and help her process this.

"It sounds like some of those stupid stories all the kids tell around here... So, there's no one to talk to about it rationally. I wouldn't want to bring it up to her parents either... after all they've been through, and they finally got it all settled with the police and... and..." Vera began to cry.

"It's just... It doesn't make sense. Her life was perfect. She had so much to look forward to, and..."

It broke my heart to see her in so much pain and I stroked her hair in comfort knowing through an experience with an old friend that there was often intense brokenness behind strong people. Rosalie Hale must've been a similar case.

Vera and I had become fast friends and I saw so much hope in her and her family, so I felt her sadness radiating through me now.

"And... She'd asked me that night what I was going to wear to her wedding..." Vera said in a breath. "She was so thrilled about it. Her fiancé, Royce was... well, he was exactly what she wanted. He would've provided for her. She'd come to see Henry... She wanted children of her own. She even said so... that very evening."

I frowned, something about this striking a nerve though I couldn't quite uncover it yet.

"Things got quiet for a little while... Until more people started mysteriously dying this past year." Vera swallowed nervously. "The sons of all the wealthiest men in town..."

"Right before he died, Royce... showed up here. He wanted to know if I'd seen her..." Vera's tears got heavier. "He was crazed. I'd never seen a man like that... I'd met him once before... He was calm and collected. He was of excellent breeding, and well mannered. He was so… cool. He wasn't… insane."

A terrible metallic taste in my mouth caused me to sit back.

"Rosalie had been dead for two years... But, he insisted... well, he insisted that Rosalie was coming to kill him." Vera's voice shook. "He wanted to know if I'd seen her, if she'd called..."

"I know this is..." Vera grimaced.

"No, please continue." My eyes were wide as saucers and my heart was racing in my chest.

Vera took a deep breath.

"He was found stone cold three days later. They identified his body based on dental records." Vera said hauntingly with a bone chilled shiver. "That's… pretty much all that was left of him."

"And whoever... or whatever did it... broke through a safe, the best locks and security that money could buy... The coroner's report couldn't even be printed in the paper it was so gruesome." Vera made a face. "And...rumor has it whoever did it left a wedding dress."

My stomach sank and immediately I thought I was going to throw up. My world was spinning.

"That's absurd." I mumbled, my brain a tangle as I took in all this information.

It wasn't settling right.

"It's just a bunch of scary stories and wild conspiracies." Vera wiped her eyes. "But... but still, I wonder..."

She was burdened heavily by this and I clenched my jaw.

"I wonder if... if Royce killed her. I wonder if she really did come back, to haunt him… I don't know if I even believe in all this ghost nonsense but..." Vera breathed. "I... I mean, if she left a wedding dress, was she trying to let us know he'd done it?..."

I shivered and the room started to spin.

"They all eventually got their justice." Vivien said triumphantly.

I thought of her words, her story...

"I'm getting feverish and exhausted..." Vera placed her face in her hands. "I'm sorry I bothered you with this nonsense."

I was speechless, no words coming to my throat. They were blocked by adrenaline.

"It's not nonsense." I finally squeaked out, not knowing what to do with my spinning mind. "I'm always here to talk."

"I'm just tired and I've been hearing too many scary stories around this cursed holiday." Vera exhaled. "I'm going to lie down."

"Goodnight." I breathed.

As she closed the door behind her, I frowned, not able to shake my nervousness. I was unnerved the rest of the night, sleep not finding me as I lied awake in a terrified insomnia.

My mind was sifting through information furiously, making absurd connections.

But maybe they weren't as absurd as I had thought…

Vivien's face flashed through my mind. I thought of her impossibly cold skin, her eerie golden eyes...

It was too coincidental. Right?

But Vivien had sent me here. Of all places she sent me here. With Vera. With Henry...

With her name...

Vivien was Rosalie Hale...

The realization crashed through my mind like a bolt of lightning.

Rosalie Hale had sent me here, to her friend Vera's house. The one a couple of blocks from her family home, and just down the street from where she was raped by Royce King and his friends.

They'd left her for dead, thinking they'd killed her and gotten away with it, but now... now they'd gotten their justice.

Rosalie wasn't dead. She was alive and somehow, through some cosmic coincidence, I'd found out.

Unless it wasn't coincidence. Unless it was planned. Unless she'd hoped I'd found out.

I knew the truth now, but would it even matter.

What could I do with this information? Who would believe me?

That's when the thought entered in my head like a clang of pots against each other…

If she wasn't dead… neither was he.

I felt in my very bones.

Emmett was alive.

I thought intently on all the pieces of information Vivien… er, Rosalie Hale had given me and how that could fit together. It was a puzzle I would solve because I knew in my gut it'd lead me to Emmett.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I didn't sleep well that night.

The next morning, I was silent as I made tea, handing the cup to Vera before I picked Henry up to get his breakfast.

"Are you all right?" Vera's soft voice shattered through the tangle of my mind.

"Did you ever have a friend named Vivien Leigh?" I asked, my voice shaking in my throat.

Vera snickered a little, and this reaction confused me.

"The movie star?" She raised an eyebrow. "You know, that's who people in town say you look like."

My stomach flipped.

I didn't want Vera to think I was crazy, and honestly thinking about it in the daylight, I thought I might be. I mean, the stories sounding so similar was just a coincidence…

But this, made me wonder.

"Oh, that must be where I heard the name." I shrugged, trying to play it off with a little chuckle.

I wondered now, in the clarity of a new day if Rosalie Hale had told me her story and given me her name just as a comforting clue to connect with me about running from abuse and starting over - to show me it can be done, and life can go on.

No one know but me…

But, Rosalie Hale was not dead.

Dorothy McCarty might've died in Tennessee, but she was alive and well as Rosalie McCarty, and I would live on in Rosalie Hale's mind just as she would live on in mine as Vivien Leigh.

Royce King's death could've been just a coincidence… Someone after his money… A debt he owed… And, they wanted to cover it up by connecting it to the town legend of Rosalie Hale.

Rosalie… Vivien… might have just heard the story in the news and imagined that was justice, even if it wasn't her vengeance.

But even if that was true, Rosalie's story about how she met Emmett still didn't add up… What really connected them?

This was the key hole in the story.

If Vivien was Rosalie, then her father was not in the lumber business and she did not meet Emmett through a business deal.

So, how then, did it happen?

It wasn't a chance encounter.

He was in prison.

Right?

What other information could be that missing link…

Possibilities flooded through my mind that were each more fanciful than the last.

I tried desperately to shake the thoughts for now, knowing I needed to run some errands for Vera after I got Henry his breakfast.

And, I wanted to have enough time to send a letter of my own... To the address Vivien had given me to write to if I needed anything.

I was still learning penmanship and forming letters, but I did my very best, and I knew the message would get across...

It had to.

Vivien,

I pray you understand the depths of my gratitude for all you've done to help me craft a life I could've only once dreamed here in Rochester. Vera and her family have welcomed me with open arms, and shown me hospitality I don't deserve.

Vera just had another baby, a little girl with beautiful blue eyes. You would absolutely adore her. Her name is Lillian. She's a quiet, sweet baby that's always smiling. Henry is growing beautifully. He grows curiouser every day, and his dark curly hair and dimples so remind me of my brother Emmett. It is nice to have a reminder of him here, a reminder of home.

There's something in my soul still holding on to hope that Emmett's still alive, and I suppose that's why I'm so quick to believe my gut on this one...

I know who you are.

And, it will be a secret I take to my grave. Just as you're protecting me, I'm protecting you.

I know you're still afraid.

But Rosalie Hale, I ask this with a pleading, desperate heart.

Tell me the truth about my brother.

Please.

I have to know the truth.