She felt incredibly fragile in my arms. At first, she remained stiff, as though she had forgotten how it felt to be held. Then, a broken sob escaped her, and she collapsed against me, weeping into my uniform.
“I thought you were never coming back,” she wailed. “Aunt Rachel said you were gone. She said you didn’t want me anymore.”
“I would never leave you,” I promised, my voice turning into a low, dangerous growl. “Never.”
I held her until her sobbing turned into quiet shudders. “Why are you out here, Em? Why were you in the pen?”
She pulled back slightly, wiping her face with a dirty sleeve. She bit her lip, a nervous habit I remembered well. “Aunt Rachel… she said I was too much trouble for the house. She said I was messy and expensive. She has friends living there now. She told me there wasn’t any room left for me.”
“She what?” The blood was roaring in my ears now.
“She told me the barn was plenty good enough,” Emily whispered, staring at the floor. “She said I should be grateful she didn’t leave me at an orphanage. So I stayed here. It’s quiet, and the pigs… they keep me warm at night.”
I stood up, lifting her easily. She weighed almost nothing. “We’re going inside. Right now.”
“No!” Emily pleaded, clutching my shirt. “She’ll be so angry! She has people over. She told me if I came inside, she’d put me back in the cellar.”
The cellar.
