She knocks my hand away from her head and twists herself around to see me straight on instead of through the reflecting glass. “He won’t separate a family if it can be helped, but he’s not fool enough to give away his slaves, willy nilly, to whatever plantation they might have family on.” She turns herself back around and speaks to my reflection. “And anyway, I’m surprised at you, Maple. I would have thought you preferred being under my husband’s eye than under my father’s whip.”

She closes her eyes, so I’ll start up with her hair again.

I brush slowly and try a different way. “Seems like you settled in here real good. Master Thomas is already six years old, and doing just fine with Sarah looking out for him. That’s the same age my Rose was when I left her to come out here with you, going on seven years ago.” She don’t even open her eyes to that, stubborn as she is. “Sure would be nice to be back with my girl.”

Miss Martha sighs like I’m some child she got to explain why cake and pie ain’t fit for supper. “Maple, my father would not buy you back. He has enough slaves without you, and he wouldn’t spend the money on a slave he doesn’t need. And besides,” she reaches up to take my hand clutching the brush and holds it in both of hers. “I cannot manage here without you. You are indispensable to me. You always have been.” She gives my hand a squeeze and a pat and releases it.

I pull the brush through her hair and down her back. Again, and again. I keep a mask on my face, stiff and expressionless, so she don’t see that if I could I would smack her across her mouth. I would pull at her fine straight hair till it came out in dark clumps in my fists. I would scream in her selfish face. I have cared for her since the day she was born, when her father, my father, charged me to look after her.

If I don’t get back with my family I will break.

I pull air deep into my lungs. I time my breathing with the brushing of her hair to settle me. When I trust my voice to speak, I say, “It’s a hard thing to be separated from family, year on year.”

“But you have me,” she says, her eyes flying open, digging into me, hinting at the thing we never talk about. “At least we’re together. We can be a comfort to each other.”

I keep my eyes trained on the back of her head and on my hands gliding up and down her hair. I take deep, long breaths. This woman ain’t never been a comfort to me.

“My father won’t live forever. One day the whole of Belle Grove Plantation will be passed on to me, and Matthew will surely bring over your daughter and your husband, and even your mother, should she still be living. Be patient, Maple. They will be here with you when the time is right.”