Part 3 (2/2)

With a whisper of silk, the dress I'd dropped slid across the floor toward me as if blown by the wind. I jumped back when it touched my shoes.

”Take it,” Sophia whispered. ”You need a new dress. That drab rag is dreadful. It's the sort of thing a pauper orphan would wear to scrub the floor.”

I looked at the silk dress, fearful of it yet wanting it.

”If Aunt loved you as she loved me, she'd lavish expensive gowns on you as she did me.” Sophia sighed. ”Judging by what I've seen, I'm certain she doesn't even like you. Indeed, I believe she despises you.”

Head down, I gazed at the dress. I couldn't argue with the truth.

”She hates you because you're not me,” Sophia added.

I remained silent.

”Aunt gave me everything in that trunk,” Sophia said. ”After I died, I watched her pack my dresses and dolls as if she thought I'd come back for them someday.” She laughed. ”Poor old Aunt. She wept as if her heart were broken.”

As Sophia spoke, Clara Annette floated across the attic and dropped softly into my arms. Without intending to, I hugged the doll. She was too beautiful to leave in the attic.

”I can't take your things,” I whispered, holding the doll even tighter.

”Of course you can,” Sophia said. ”I want you to have them as a token of our friends.h.i.+p. Besides, I have no need for dresses or dolls now.”

”Aunt will not want me to have them.”

”Tut,” Sophia said with a laugh. ”Aunt needn't know.”

I stared into the shadows and tried to see her. But no matter how hard I looked, I saw nothing. ”Please, Sophia,” I begged. ”Please let me see you.”

”Someday.” With that promise, a cold breeze whirled away, taking Sophia with it.

Scooping up the dress and the doll, I ran down the attic steps, mindless now of how much noise I made. Behind me, the door to the attic slammed shut.

In my room, safe behind my own door, I dropped the dress on my bed. With Clara Annette in my arms, I warmed myself in front of the fire. Why had I accepted Sophia's gifts? I didn't want the belongings of a dead girl. Yet I'd been unable to refuse them. Because they were beautiful, I supposed. Because I'd never owned anything like them. Because I was afraid of angering Sophia.

A soft rap on my door startled me. Clutching the doll even tighter, I cried, ”Who's there?”

”It's Nellie, miss, come to tidy your room.” The door opened a crack and Nellie peered in. Never was I so happy to see her ordinary freckled face.

Nellie stared at the dress on the bed and the doll in my arms. ”Oh, miss,” she whispered, entering the room, ”they be ever so pretty. Did your uncle give you them?” As she spoke, she touched the silk gently.

I shook my head. It was then that Nellie noticed my state. ”Why, miss, what be wrong?”

”No one gave them to me. I found them in the attic.”

”Ye went to the attic?” The sympathy on Nellie's face changed to shock. ”n.o.body goes there. The floor be rotten. Even a body small as me could fall through.”

From the corner behind me I heard a soft sound. The rustling of a dress maybe. A sigh, a laugh so low, I wasn't sure I really heard it. Sophia was there, watching me, a.s.sessing me, scorning me, scorning Nellie.

Despite myself, I was beginning to feel cross. ”Do you always do what people tell you to do, Nellie? Don't you have any curiosity?”

”I knows my place, miss,” Nellie said in an annoyingly humble voice.

I was horrified to find myself wanting to slap her face or pull her hair. It was what Sophia would have done.

”I know it ain't right for me to tell ye what to do, but don't go up there again,” Nellie begged. ”And don't keep them pretty things. They ain't yers.”

While Nellie talked, Sophia whispered, ”Don't listen to her. She's an ignorant servant. Keep the doll, keep the dress. She's jealous because I gave them to you instead of to her.”

”No,” I heard myself say to Nellie, ”it's not right for a stupid girl like you to tell me what to do. Go back to the kitchen where you belong. I'm tired of your foolish chatter.”

”Oh, miss.” Nellie gave me a horrified look and ran from my room.

As soon as she was gone, I wanted to call her back. What was wrong with me ? I'd never spoken to anyone like that, and I was ashamed of myself. I'd been cruel, thoughtlessly and needlessly cruel.

At the same time, I was aware of Sophia watching me from the shadows. Had she put those words into my mouth? Was it she who made me speak so cruelly to poor little Nellie?

I knew that Sophia would scorn me if I ran after Nellie. No one apologized to a servant. It simply wasn't done.

So I stayed where I was and stroked Clara Annette's dark ringlets. ”Such a pretty doll,” I whispered. ”Do you miss your old owner?”

”Of course she misses me,” Sophia said. ”Everybody misses me. I was the favorite-until James came along and ruined everything.”

On noiseless feet, a shadowy shape crept toward me. The closer it came, the colder I was. It was as if winter had taken a form and entered my warm room.

At first, Sophia was no more distinct than a figure glimpsed through fog or mist, but as she came nearer, her wavering outline slowly solidified. She wore a stained white silk dress, and her dainty slippers were muddy. What was left of her dark hair was dull and spa.r.s.e. Her face was narrow and pale, her skin stretched tightly over her skull. Dark shadows ringed her eyes. Her teeth were brown. She smelled of earth and mold.

In abhorrence, I closed my eyes and tried to tell her to leave, but my mouth shook so badly, I couldn't speak. Never had I seen such a dreadful sight.

”Look at me,” Sophia said.

Unwillingly, I opened my eyes. ”What do you want with me?” I whispered.

”I'm so cold and so lonely.” Sophia nestled into the rocking chair beside me, as weightless as a puff of cold air. ”I need a friend, and so do you. We could be like sisters, sharing secrets.”

I studied her white face, her stained teeth, her unruly hair, her dull eyes. ”I don't want to be your friend. Or your sister. I won't, I can't.” To my shame, I began to cry.

Sophia gave me a narrow-lipped smile, just the sort I'd expect to see on my aunt's face. ”I tell you, you will be my friend, whether you wish to be or not. I always get my way. It's useless to fight me.”

With that, she slipped out of the chair and disappeared as quickly as she'd come. For a moment the coal fire ared up; then it died down to embers.

In shock, I gazed at the place where Sophia had first materialized. She'd stood right there beside the bed. She'd squeezed into the chair beside me, close enough for me to smell her. She'd spoken to me.

Uncle said the dead did not return. He was wrong.

Unable to stop shaking, I stared at Clara Annette's china face. Sophia's doll, I reminded myself. Not mine.

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