Chapter 83

March 1871 – Boston

Marjorie glanced down at the piece of paper in her hands. She breathed a sigh of relief and sadness at the same time. Her divorce had been finalized. She was truly a free woman, and what did she have to show for it? An empty house, children who chose to live with their father and his future new wife, and a journal that she needed to keep secret from the rest of her family. What was the point? She had nothing left. Why keep this for herself? Why give herself the satisfaction of making her mother's memory miserable? She knew what she needed to do, but a part of her—the little girl who hadn't gotten enough attention—wanted to keep that book away from her sisters just to spite them.

She opened up the journal, seeing each page with her sisters' names on them. Rebecca. Michaela. Rebecca. Michaela. Claudette. Maureen. And last but not least, Marjorie. Venom rose up in her throat, and for the first time in her life, she hated her mother. She hated Elizabeth for giving her just enough love and affection to keep her yearning for her place as her favorite. Why couldn't she have just had nothing to do with her from the beginning? Perhaps it would have been less painful.

The immediate hate that filled her heart was promptly replaced by guilt. How could she love a woman who had done her best with a well-kept secret in her heart? It wasn't as if she hadn't loved all of her children. It wasn't like that at all. Perhaps she'd made some of her mother's wickedness up in her head, but she'd learned to do that from a young age. When she wasn't given the privileges that some of her sisters were given, she'd created reasons for doing so. She wasn't good enough. She hadn't cleaned her room just right. Her dress had been dirty. She wasn't getting all As in school.

Sitting down on the stair steps of her empty home, she let out a sob, hearing it echo off of the marble and reverberate off of the walls. She remembered holding her babies on this step late at night. She'd been too tired to go downstairs to walk, so she'd sit there and rock them until they slept again. She had spent more time awake than asleep those days, sometimes watching the girls sleep, afraid that if she closed her eyes, they'd stop breathing and be taken away from her. Not even that had been good enough.

She looked down into the foyer, seeing the front door. God, she'd sat on this same step so many nights waiting for that brute of a husband of hers to return home. Unfortunately, her waiting and worrying hadn't been good enough, because most nights, he'd been too drunk or too tired to deal with her, and she'd woken the next morning, trying desperately to cover up a black eye.

When had she become so weak? How had she found a man that had cheated on her, beat her, and managed to convince her children that she was no good? How had she found that kind of a man, when all of her sisters had had happy marriages, and her littlest sister was about to embark on a new life with a man who seemed more concerned about her than himself? How could she, the one who had strived for her mother's attention and done what she'd been told to do without protest, have been saddled with a man who would only cause her further pain?

The times that Everett had hit her, causing her to cry out in the middle of the night, as the babies lay screaming in their cribs, she had told herself that she'd done something to deserve it. The times that Elizabeth had brushed off their visits together, she'd told herself that her mother had better things to do. There was always something better to do than to spend time with a bitter young woman who had nothing but a lifetime of grief to talk about.

But then there was Michaela. She had never listened to their mother—no matter how loud Elizabeth had yelled—and she was still just as sweet and gentle as could be. She'd marched to the beat of her own drum and had taken on a world of insults when entering medical school. But that had made her stronger. How could that be?

She sighed with frustration. She knew she wasn't her sister, and in a way, she envied everything that Michaela had accomplished. She envied Michaela's place in her mother's heart. She envied Michaela's impending marriage to Sully. It just wasn't fair.

And then something clicked. Perhaps Michaela was who she was today despite Elizabeth's influences. Marjorie shook her head. Perhaps she had been the wrong one in trying to make Elizabeth happy. Claudette and Maureen were miserable housewives too, with the exception that their husbands didn't beat and betray them. Rebecca and Michaela had been the favorites. Now she knew. It was because they hadn't been there all of the time, fighting for attention. That was why. She knew now that she was only like this at her own fault. But she blamed Elizabeth too. She blamed her for not putting her in her place from day one.

"I was just a child, Mother," she breathed, clutching the journal in her hands. "You shouldn't have let me believe I had a chance at being the good one. You should have pushed me to do the things I didn't want to do. You should have made me hate you." She shook her head. "I hate you now. I'm this way, because I thought you were something else. I thought…I thought you weren't capable of such cruelty. I know now…I know."

Marjorie closed her eyes and she opened the book up again.

"You didn't want anybody to know. Not until you were dead and gone and couldn't be faced with the truth. You were selfish, Mother. You thought of nobody but yourself, and it's time that everybody saw that. It's time for them to know how cruel you were."

Sully lay back in the grass, soaking up the sun, as Michaela and Johnny fed the few ducks that swam up to the bank, seeing possible food sources. He smiled when Michaela shrieked with laughter, as a goose came a little too close, snapping at the hem of her skirt. Sully sat up quickly, keeping a watchful eye on them, as she ran away from the goose, and Johnny threw interference, tossing a few breadcrumbs in its direction to keep it from chasing his mother any further.

"Pa, did ya see that?" Johnny asked with a laugh, his cheeks reddened by the sun.

"I saw," Sully laughed. "Why don't ya keep feedin' the ducks? I'm gonna check your ma for goose bites." Johnny looked at him strangely before shrugging and going back to the shoreline. Michaela let out a laugh, as she sat down next to Sully in the grass.

"Goose bites? How original," she giggled. Sully grinned, and he leaned over to kiss her.

"Any excuse to get ya alone."

"May I remind you that we're not alone," she said, nodding to indicate the few families that had come out on such a beautiful day. But, she didn't deny him another kiss, as his hand moved to the small of her back and began to rub small circles there. When his mouth started toward her neck, she put her hand on his chest and pushed him backward. "I think you're forgetting where we are, Mr. Sully." She grinned at him, her cheeks blushing red, and he smiled.

"Nah. I just don't think that kissin' ought to be so private." Michaela shook her head.

"Well, it depends on what kind of kissing you're talking about," she whispered. Sully raised an eyebrow.

"There's more than one type of kissin'?" She shook her head and gently swatted his knee.

"You know what I mean, Sully. There are certain kisses that…lead to other things."

"What kinda things?" he teased. She shook her head. He was certainly incorrigible when he wanted to be! "I don't think folks ought to hide the way they feel about each other."

"Do you think I'm hiding?" she asked, her eyes sparkling like the Charles under the sunlight. Sully swallowed hard and looked out toward the water. "You do, don't you?" She sighed heavily and turned to face the river as well. "I'm sorry if that's how you feel. I don't want you to feel as if I'm not…interested."

"It ain't that," he replied softly, picking up her hand and kissing her knuckles. "I know you're plenty interested." He wrapped his arm around her and looked out at Johnny, who tossed a few breadcrumbs into the water to get the feisty goose away from him.

"Then what is it, Sully?" she asked. Sully shook his head, smiling a little.

"When we first met, I knew you weren't gonna be easy to get to know. I didn't expect we'd ever be…sittin' here, engaged and expectin' a baby. You interested me. I wanted to know what made ya tick, ya know?" Michaela smiled a little, nodding. "I wanted to know what it was about ya that made me want to know ya so bad."

"And?"

"And, I know now…it's everything. The way ya blush when I kiss ya…everything."

"But I thought you were going to say that was a bad thing," she laughed.

"'Course not," he replied. "I just don't want ya to feel embarrassed to let me know how ya feel is all…'specially in public."

"I don't think I can," she admitted, shaking her head. "The way I express my feelings when we're…alone…that's one thing. I don't want you to think I'm ashamed, Sully. I'm not. I love you more than ever. I suppose I'm just reliving all of the moments that my mother told me my behavior was inappropriate. She wouldn't let father kiss her in public. She pushed him away and told him to stop acting like a fool." She sighed softly. "I don't want to be like that, Sully. I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry for, Michaela. I love you just the way ya are. If it makes ya uncomfortable…"

"I don't want it to," she confessed, swallowing hard and gently pressing her hand against his cheek. "I want to stop worrying. I don't care what other people think about me. I've never cared, especially when it came to getting into medical school. But in other ways…I suppose I am a bit cautious. I've always been expected to act in certain ways in public. I suppose this may take a little getting used to." Sully smiled.

"I'm sorry if I made ya think I was upset. I ain't, Michaela. In fact, it makes it more excitin', ya know?"

"How's that?" Sully chuckled.

"'Cause I know that when we're behind closed doors, we don't got a thing to worry about." Michaela smiled, and she took a deep breath, leaning in to kiss him lovingly, letting her arms snake boldly around his neck. Sully kissed back with fervor, and they weren't broken apart until a gasp sounded near by.

"Michaela!" came the voice. Michaela and Sully pulled apart quickly to see who their intruder was. Michaela tried to hide her disappointment when Claudette stood nearby with her husband and children. Claudette composed herself and cleared her throat, turning to her husband. "Darling, would you take the children up to the carriage?" He nodded.

"Yes, dear," he replied quietly, tipping his hat to his sister-in-law and to Sully. Once he was out of earshot, and Sully and Michaela had stood, Claudette shot a venomous look at her little sister.

"What do you think you're doing?" she spat. Michaela raised an eyebrow and took Sully's hand in hers. He glanced at her before smiling a little and looking back at Claudette.

"I don't think that's any of your business." Claudette's jaw went rigid.

"None of my business? I apologize, dear sister, but I do believe it's very much my business, when you're gallivanting about in public with the likes of this character!" She made notice of Sully with a wave of her hand. "And you're acting like nothing but a two-bit trollop! Does he like it that way, Michaela? Are you practicing to be a good little wife? Don't tell me he doesn't like you to play the submissive little… " Before Sully could say a word, Michaela reached out and slapped her sister hard across the face. Claudette cried out, holding her hand to her reddened cheek. Michaela gasped at what she had done, and Johnny noticed the commotion, stopping what he was doing to slowly sneak up on the group.

"Michaela!" Claudette hissed.

"Don't speak about the man I love that way, Claudette. And as for what you said about me, you don't even know me. You've never bothered to take the time, and you have no right to say what you said."

"It's true!" she exclaimed. "You're giving the Quinn family a bad name."

"What I do is none of your concern!" Michaela exclaimed. "You have no right to tell me what to say, how to behave, or who to love! You have no right!"

"Michaela, it's alright," Sully spoke up, squeezing her hand.

"No it isn't. I've listened to her harsh ridicule all of my life, and I don't care to hear it anymore." She stepped toward Claudette, whose cheek was growing increasingly redder.

"I know we've never gotten along, and it seems to me now that that will never happen. It saddens me, but I know that it's no use in trying to get you to see that I'm not a child anymore. I make my own decisions, and I stick to them. Just because I didn't run off and marry the first man who asked me to a ball…"

"That's quite enough!" Claudette reprimanded. But, Michaela's mood swing was far from over. She'd reached a boiling point, and both Johnny and Sully could see it.

"How dare you treat me as if you have authority over me?" she asked.

"Because you've obviously forgotten all about propriety and being a decent woman!" And when Johnny saw the hurt and anger in his mother's eyes, he couldn't hold his tongue anymore.

"Stop it! Stop yellin'! Ya ain't s'posed to yell at a pregnant lady like that!" And before he could stop himself, it was too late, and the secret had been exposed. Several gasps rose up from nearby, but Michaela couldn't even think at that moment. Her eyes were glassy with tears, and her entire body was trembling. Sully squeezed her hand, letting her know he was still there, but neither one of them knew how to react at that moment.

Johnny's face was red, and he put his hand over his mouth. He looked up at Michaela, who was still staring straight ahead at a shocked Claudette.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. I didn't mean to! I'm sorry." But before waiting for a reaction from either one of his parents, he rushed off, embarrassed and guilty.

"Pregnant?" Claudette asked, shaking her head with disgust. "Oh, Michaela, I knew you had changed, but this much? This is an absolute abomination!" She laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, how sweet it is to finally see the truth. You're no better than those backwoods women who would do anything to keep a man, including degrade themselves out of wedlock!"

"Stop it," Michaela warned, squeezing Sully's hand tightly.

"Stop? Why didn't you say that when he forced his way into your bed?" she asked, nodding toward Sully. He took a step forward and started to speak, but Michaela beat him to it.

"He did no such thing, and I will not discuss this with you!"

"It's too late, Michaela dear. It's a good thing you're leaving Boston, though I'm afraid our family will never live this down. You've made a mockery of everything our family stands for."

"Stop it, Claudette," Michaela seethed. "You don't know what you're talking about. I suggest you leave before…"

"Before what? Dare I ask what you might do? Have you forgotten everything you've learned growing up here? I wouldn't be surprised. Tell me, Michaela, are you going to have an Indian wedding? Judging by the looks of your betrothed, I wouldn't doubt it!" Sully stepped forward again.

"Look, ya may not approve of me, but the truth is, I don't much care for your opinion. Don't look like I'm gonna get your approval, and I ain't lookin' for it. But what I do care for is Michaela, and I don't appreciate nobody talkin' to her in that way, 'specially her own sister."

"Sully, please," Michaela began, but he shook his head.

"I ain't gonna let her stand here and say those things to ya. I don't care if she's your sister. Nobody deserves to be talked to like that…'specially you."

"You should have thought about the way people would react, Mr. Sully, before you got my sister into trouble."

"Sully did nothing that I didn't want him to!" Michaela blurted out, 'causing her sister's face to pale and her own to flush furiously.

"You disgust me, Michaela. You are a disgrace to our entire family." With that, she stalked off, eager to tell her family about Michaela's news. Michaela's head fell, and she covered her face with her hands, before she began to sob. He wasn't certain what to say.

"Sully, I'm sorry."

"There's nothin' to be sorry for. She had no right to say those things to ya."

"What she said about you…"

"That don't matter. We know the truth, Michaela." She took a deep breath.

"I'm still…I'm so sorry."

"Michaela," he said softly, "it's alright." She shook her head.

"No it isn't! I promised myself I wouldn't react the way I did…"

"That ain't somethin' you can control all the time," he assured her. He pulled her close, feeling several pair of eyes staring at them. But he didn't care. All he cared about was taking care of Michaela, because he knew she needed him now more than she had in a long while. "Right now, there's a little boy who's feelin' awful poorly."

"It isn't his fault, Sully. He didn't mean to…" She shook her head. "My sister has done nothing but look for the bad in people her entire life. Johnny should realize that I'm not upset that he…"

"I know," he said softly, "but he don't know we ain't angry with him." She nodded, pulling back slowly and drying her tears. "I'll go talk to him."

"No. I should do it," she replied. He took her hand in hers.

"Why don't we go together?" Smiling a little, Michaela sniffled, nodded her head, and started off with Sully to find Johnny.

March 1871 – Colorado Springs

The pain in Tommy's leg was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart, as he hobbled along the hallway to Olive's room. Because Doc Cassidy had been busy with his other patients, Ruth had come up to tell him the news, bless her heart, and then she'd quickly gone back to her home to wait out the rest of the epidemic. At this point, catching diphtheria was the last of Tommy's worries.

Making sure Doc Cassidy wasn't around, he slipped into Olive's room and closed the door. He slowly moved toward her bed before taking a seat in an empty chair. She was sleeping, but he knew she was suffering.

He reached out for her hand. "I don't care about getting sick. I don't want ya to be alone, Olive. Seems ya been that way for too long." Olive began to stir, and he squeezed her hand. "Do you remember the first time we met? I do. You were young and beautiful, and your hair was the color of fire. I remember thinkin' 'that one's gonna be trouble, she is," and I was darned right."

Olive slowly opened her eyes, and when she saw Tommy, her eyes widened.

"Go away," she insisted weakly. "Please. Get out."

"I ain't leavin'."

"I don't…want…you here." Tommy smiled a little.

"Well, that's just too bad, 'cause I ain't leavin' ya." Olive shook her head.

"Least I know where…Carrie gets her stubbornness from," she joked, trying to smile but only frowning, tears coming to her eyes.

"She's just as stubborn as the both of us. She's strong, Olive. She needs ya."

"I ain't gonna make it, Tommy," she breathed.

"Ya never know. Ya gotta believe," Tommy offered. Olive smiled a little.

"I believe I've lived a good life. I got my regrets, but…but I can't change things now." Tommy shook his head.

"No, but I wish things woulda turned out different," he said quietly. "God knows I loved my wife, but you…you were the one I really wanted. I didn't think I'd ever see ya again." Olive shook her head.

"I didn't count on you comin' to town. Didn't count on you breakin' your leg either." She managed a small smile. "But havin' the both of you around…it's been nice." She pointed to her bedside table, and Tommy looked at the piece of paper. "Make sure you give that to Carrie."

"What is it?" he asked, trembling, as he picked up the paper.

"The deed to the mercantile. I signed it over to her. I want her to have it." Tommy shook his head.

"Always full of surprises." Olive shook her head.

"It's important, Tommy. She needs to have it. She…she likes workin' there, and I think it might help ground her. Ya know? She needs to know she's got somethin' to look forward to everyday. I know a mercantile ain't the best present to give, but it's somethin' that might help her have a better life." Tommy shook his head.

"Stop talkin' like that. Like ya ain't gonna be here." She shook her head.

"Don't try to convince me I ain't dyin', 'cause I am." She coughed dryly. "When Carrie shows up, ya give her that, ya hear?" Tommy slowly nodded. "Daniel's got the locket. Ya see to it that he gives her that too. Tell her I didn't want it to be this way. Tell her I loved her." She closed her eyes. "I loved you both." Tommy smiled a little and kissed her hand.

"I never stopped lovin' you, Olive. You're still that beautiful young gal with fiery hair. You're still the same girl I dreamed of spendin' the rest of my life with." Olive smiled a little, and she kept her eyes closed. "Rest now, Olive." He sighed and leaned back in the chair, wondering what was keeping his daughter. He only hoped that she was safe, and he hoped that with time, she would be able to forgive both him and Olive for the secret they had kept for so long.

"He gonna make it?" Hank asked, as he stood by, waiting for Doc Cassidy to prepare his transfusion instruments. But Doc Cassidy said nothing. "Doc?"

"I'm going to have to take his arm. Since he isn't in a state to make that decision, I need the next of kin to…"

"He don't have no kin," Hank replied. "But I know he don't wanna die." Hank swallowed hard. He knew Jake had had a hard life, and he wouldn't be surprised if the man wanted to die, but he didn't want to be the one to let him die without doing anything.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for surgery." Doc Cassidy left the room, and Hank sat down at Jake's bedside. He shook his head.

"What'd you get yourself into?" he asked. "Ya drink yourself stupid, and then ya do things that only hurt yourself." He shook his head. "I guess I ain't got no room to talk." He frowned, watching Jake lie so still…as if he was dead already. "Ya been through a lot, Jake. Don't give up now. Sure, ya done some bad things, but we all have. That don't mean it's time to give up. Don't ya remember…pullin' Abagail to safety? Don't ya remember…" Before he could finish, Jake began to shake violently and sweat profusely. "Jake?" When Jake didn't respond, he rushed out the door. "Hey doc! Doc!" Doc Cassidy rushed back in, his medical bag in hand, and he sat down at Jake's bedside. "What the hell's the matter with him?"

"Septicemia." Hank eyed him.

"What's that mean?"

"It means he has blood poisoning. It could be from what cut him, or it could be because he didn't seek medical attention right away, which I'm guessing is the culprit." Hank eyed him.

"Ya better do somethin'." Doc Cassidy threw his hands up in defeat.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do except keep him comfortable. I'm sorry." He pulled a syringe and a bottle of morphine from his bag, and he gave Jake a quick injection. Hank watched the doctor, eyeing him coldly.

"Let me ask ya somethin', Doc Cassidy."

"Yes?"

"How the hell did you ever get to be a doctor, when all you do is let your patients die?" With that, Hank stormed from the room and left, unwilling to watch another friend die.

Daniel dismounted his horse, as he reached the ridge. He took a sip from his canteen and looked around, searching for any sign of her horse. Where was she? Why hadn't she come home?

He pulled the locket from the pocket of his pants, and he clenched it hard in his fist. He had to find Carrie before it was too late. He needed to get her home to see her mother.

Mounting back up on his horse, he surveyed the land, and he headed off again, hoping to find the woman he loved.

Carrie slept fitfully, while her fever raged on. Snow Bird continued to keep a cool cloth applied to the young woman's forehead, but her efforts didn't seem to be paying off. When Cloud Dancing entered the teepee, he began sprinkling dried herbs around Carrie's sleeping form. Snow Bird stayed quiet, as her husband chanted quietly, praying for the Spirits to heal her.

"Her fever is strong," Snow Bird said quietly, after Cloud Dancing had finished.

"The Spirits say she will heal, but they say a stranger approaches." Snow Bird swallowed hard.

"A stranger? The man who did this?" Cloud Dancing shook his head.

"The Spirits did not say. But we must keep her safe until morning." Snow Bird nodded, and she continued to nurse the young woman's fever.

"She knows something is not right. Perhaps it is best if she goes home soon." She frowned, as Carrie moaned in her sleep.

"First, her fever must break," he decided. At that moment, a young Cheyenne child rushed into the teepee. After he left, a Cheyenne brave, Little Wolf, came walking in with his prisoner in arm.

In Cheyenne, he spoke, "I found him riding just off of the reservation. He was lost." Cloud Dancing looked at Daniel.

"You were lost?" Daniel shook his head.

"I wasn't lost. I was looking—" When his gaze settled upon Carrie, he froze. "What happened to her? I was looking for her." Cloud Dancing nodded to Little Wolf, who released Daniel. Daniel rushed to Carrie's side. "What happened?"

"She was shot. She now has a fever, and she cannot be moved until the fever breaks."

"Shot?" Daniel asked, his heart stopping for a moment. Cloud Dancing pulled the knife out from a leather pouch nearby. "This was found near her." Daniel slowly took the smooth handle of the knife into his hands and stared intently at it. He knew this knife. He'd taken it off of Jake several times while hauling him off to jail to get sober.

"This is Jake's."

"Jake?"

"The man who did this," he seethed. "I'll kill him."

"Little Wolf will prepare lodging for you. Tomorrow, if her fever has broken, I will accompany you to take her back to town." Daniel nodded.

"No. It ain't safe for you there. I'll take her myself." He breathed a heavy sigh. "She gonna be alright?"

"She is strong. She fights hard, so it is up to her on the course of her recovery." Daniel nodded.

"Thanks for…for helpin' her. I appreciate it." Cloud Dancing nodded. "Can I have a minute with her?"

"Yes. We will help Little Wolf prepare a bed for you." He and Snow Bird left, and Daniel gently brushed the hair from Carrie's face.

"I wanna kill Jake for what he did to ya. He's already hurt ya enough, but I guess…I guess it wasn't enough for him." He shook his head and leaned down, kissing her forehead. He took the locket out of his coat and placed it in the palm of her hand, closing her fingers around it. "I'll explain everything tomorrow. I love you." And with that, he left the teepee to find Cloud Dancing.

March 1871 – Boston

"You're sure you're not mad?" Johnny asked, as they walked down the sidewalk toward the Quinn house.

"I'm sure," Michaela assured him. "We were going to have to say something soon anyway."

"Yeah, but…I just…" Michaela gently squeezed his shoulder.

"It isn't your fault, sweetheart."

"But I'm the one that told," he explained.

"Yes," Michaela said quietly, "but we shouldn't have asked you to carry such a big secret." Johnny eyed her.

"But I didn't tell nobody. I wasn't gonna tell nobody. I didn't mean to." He hung his head. "Now ya can't trust me."

"'Course we can," Sully spoke up. "Accidents happen, Johnny. We're not mad 'cause of what ya said." Johnny sighed and shrugged his shoulders. They turned to walk up the steps to the Quinn house, and Michaela took Johnny's hand.

"Nobody blames you, sweetheart. So don't blame yourself." Johnny frowned, but when he saw Michaela's smile, he gave her a big hug. She smiled tiredly at Sully and hugged the boy back. "No go on inside and tell Mary all about the ducks and the geese we saw today." Johnny nodded, and before he went inside, he hugged his pa too. Sully closed the door after his boy and turned to Michaela. She shook her head. "It won't get any easier from here. Now everyone is going to know."

"You ok with that?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I knew everyone would know eventually. I suppose I just wasn't prepared for them to know so soon." Sully nodded, and he leaned against the porch rail.

"I suppose we've got lots to think about."

"Yes. We do." She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her stomach. "A lot to think about." Michaela saw Sully's gaze avert away from her, and when she saw tension crease his brow, she turned to face the direction he was gazing in. She was almost surprised to see Marjorie coming down the street in a carriage, but at the same time, she wasn't surprised at all. Word certainly had a way of traveling fast, even in such a large city.

"Ready?" he asked quietly. Michaela nodded, prepared for anything at this point. But, when Marjorie stepped out of the carriage, Michaela was confused by the saddened look upon her face. Perhaps she didn't know.

"Marjorie?" she asked gently.

"Hello, Michaela," she said quietly. She took a deep breath. "I've come here because…I have something to give you." Michaela stared at her curiously. She glanced at Sully before nodding to Marjorie.

"Let's go inside where we can sit down," Michaela offered. Without resisting, Marjorie followed Sully and her sister into the Quinn house, the journal clutched firmly in her hands, holding it as if her entire life depended on it.