The Twisted Tragedy of Miss Natalie Stewart by Leanna Renee Hieber

Author:Leanna Renee Hieber
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-03T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

My door open, I was sitting and reading, hoping Dickens could get my mind off everything, when Bessie came into my room. “You’ve a visitor, Natalie. Miss Horowitz.”

“Rachel!”

I tore down the stairs to see a dark-haired girl who had grown taller and even more waifish than I remembered, as if she’d become one with the spirits who spoke to her. She didn’t turn at the sound of me on the stair, but she did jump as I threw my arms around her from behind.

I sat down beside her, and she took one look at me, her lovely face drawn, dark circles under her eyes, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She fell into my arms and wept there a while.

Stroking her hair, I just let her cry, small sounds and sniffles muffled by the handkerchief she put to her mouth. After a long moment, she pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” she signed to me.

“For what?” I signed back. “For reaching out to me? Everyone else would have thought you were crazy.” I finished signing. She looked at me sheepishly. Then I grinned. Her face broke into a wide smile. “Guess what?” I signed. She raised her eyebrows in response. “I am speaking now,” I said aloud, making sure she was watching my lips. “It’s a long story, but I regained my voice. Just like you always thought I would.”

This pleased her, and she clasped my hands in hers.

“Should I sign or speak?” I signed. She shrugged. I continued to sign. “Mrs. Northe wants you to stay with her. Not your house. For safety.”

“No trouble?” Rachel signed. I shook my head. She shifted to pin me with a gaze that said she was desperate to be believed as she signed, “I promise I’m stronger than this. I will do the right thing. I’m just tired—”

“I know,” I said and squeezed her white-gloved hand. I’d worked so hard to break this girl out of her shell in school, but I couldn’t blame her now if she wanted nothing more than to retreat back into it.

Father entered with some light lunch he’d procured for us both. Living so near to the Metropolitan, we had lunch together at home if I wasn’t with him at the acquisitions board, which had yet to give me any real responsibilities. Considering my more pressing duties, that was for the best.

Father welcomed Rachel like another daughter. Then I remembered they’d all had quite an experience, communing with my mother in a séance. Without me. I shoved that sting aside.

Rachel held out a note to my father. It read: “I’m so sorry for bringing any trouble upon your house. I’ll try to make it up to you.”

My father blinked back tears. He looked at her directly so she could more easily read his lips. “You gave me a chance to talk to Helen one last time. And that gift can never be repaid.” He cleared his throat, kissed Rachel on the forehead, and walked out the door to work. Tears were in my eyes too, before I knew it.

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