After the reporters had snapped a few pictures, I stepped into my aeroplane and took off from the beach. But something had felt wrong—and then there had been nothing.
And now I was back in Salem, with no other memories from yesterday.
Panic started to tighten my chest as the reality of what had happened hit me. Memories of Hope’s accident in Boston engulfed me. The rush of air she’d inhaled when she woke up in Salem after her death—the loss of memories—the shock of it all.
The slanted ceiling closed in on me, and my throat tightened. I wanted to cry out in disbelief and anger, but the sound was lodged in my throat. I put my fist to my mouth as my body began to tremble uncontrollably.
And then I wept.
The memory of sitting with Luc by the ocean filled me with a longing so intense, I couldn’t breathe. I had known I would lose him, but I had been hoping for a miracle. Instead, I had gotten the opposite. God had made the choice for me and taken me away weeks before I was ready to say good-bye.
The pain smothered me, and I began to hyperventilate. I clawed at the blankets, trying to find a foothold on reality. I needed Hope. I needed to know where she was and what had happened to her. I needed her reassurance that everything was going to be fine—because right now, I was terrified.
Something hit the window. At first I was too overcome with my emotions to pay attention—but then it hit the window again, and I realized it was the thing that had woken me up in the first place.
The distraction pulled me from my despair. I looked out the window and saw a man standing in the side yard. He was hidden in the bushes, but I could still see him—and I knew instantly who it was.
Isaac.
I had never known a heart could break and be filled with hope all at the same moment. I dressed as quickly and quietly as possible, my limbs weak and unsteady, then snuck out of my room and down the back stairs into the kitchen. My cloak hung on the hook near the door, so I grabbed it, hoping and praying that Leah would not hear me.
My heart was pounding as I quietly opened the back door and then closed it behind me, not wanting a draft to wake anyone. The moon was high and bright, telling me it was still early morning. I tiptoed around the back of the ordinary to where Isaac was waiting, close to the spot where Hope and I had been discovered with our cousin Rachel.
My relief at seeing Isaac was so keen, I rushed into his arms, tears streaming down my cheeks.
He held me for a moment, then pulled away. “We must hurry,” he said as he drew me toward the road in front of the ordinary.
“What if the watchman sees?”
“I’ve paid him. Now, come, and do not ask any more questions until we’re away.”
I did as he instructed, not even looking back at the ordinary as we ran down the road that led to Salem Towne.
Isaac’s wagon was waiting with his two horses attached. After he helped me up, he climbed aboard, and we were off.
I waited as long as I could before I asked, “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to Hope. She won’t rest until you’re by her side.”
“Where is she?”
“In Boston with friends of mine. We will not tarry long but will continue our journey tonight and make our way to New York.”
“New York?” It was a journey of over two hundred miles. It would take us days to get there.
“’Tis the safest place I can take her.” There was confidence in his voice—but there was fear, as well.
“Thank you,” I said to him. “For everything.”
He glanced at me and nodded. “I would do anything for her.”
“I know.”
There was a time when I would have been jealous of his statement, but now it brought me comfort—even if it pierced my soul, making me long for Luc.
We drove in silence most of the way, Isaac pushing the horses as fast as he could without tiring them. My mind and heart were on Luc, and if I had not been sitting beside Isaac, running for our lives, I would have been weeping.
It took over three hours, but we finally arrived in Boston, and Isaac took me to an imposing home on the harbor. It was dark within, but as soon as we pulled up to the front, the door opened, and Hope appeared.
