My belly twists like a worm on a hook. Master never wants to see me.

His door’s wide open and I shift on my feet waiting for him to look up from the papers scattered over his wooden desk. When he does, he waves me into his room that has books for walls. The air is stale and suffocating. He leans toward me in his high-backed chair and folds his hands. I stand in front of him fidgeting.

“They caught Freddy,” he says. “Trying to get up North. My father-in-law had him whipped and sold.”

“Sold?” I say, my breath coming up short. That ain’t right. We gonna be together when Master Jeremiah passes on. He can’t be sold. “Maybe, can I talk to Master Jeremiah? Freddy ain’t never been no trouble before this. I know he’ll get right again.”

Master’s mouth sags low. “It’s too late, Maple. He’s already in a coffle headed to Mississippi.”

“I can’t see him?” It’s a fact pretending to be a question, and a question pretending we got hope. I start to cry, but my eyes stay dry. My back stays straight. It’s just my breathing that shudders and gasps. My heart hurts thinking of him shackled in a line, marching down Mississippi way, leaving me and Rose for good. Sold for money Master Jeremiah don’t even need.

Master gives me a minute to put myself together, but when I can’t quite do it, he says, “All this could have been avoided if only he hadn’t run.”

I ball my hands into my skirts at my sides. I won’t blame Freddy for wanting to be free. There ain’t a slave alive who don’t want that. I only blame him for leaving Rose. “It don’t make no sense that he’d just up and leave,” I say.

“I suppose he’s changed from the man you remember. I’m told he’d grown obstinate and aggressive. He got a severe whipping for attacking a gentleman. A relative of the household, in fact. I know this is unexpected, but I hope hearing what sort of fellow he’s become will help you put him behind you.”

I’m so mad I shake with it. At Master Jeremiah, at Master, at whoever bought my husband, at whoever caught him. But mostly I’m mad at Freddy. He’s the one who promised he’d look after my baby when I left, and he can’t do that chained up in Mississippi.

“Best you forget about him. We’ll find you someone new. Maybe Samson.”

I go to suck my teeth and scowl but catch myself and pull my face back to quiet.

“Well, we’ll think on it,” he says.

I bite my cheek so I don’t say nothing about how you can’t change out a husband like changing out a horse.

“That’s all, Maple. You can get back to work.”

“Master?” I say. My mind’s churning. Something ain’t right on Belle Grove Plantation. And now there ain’t no one round the house whose looking after Rose. “You know I got a daughter?”