Sitting at the table in the kitchen house, I hear shuffling behind me. When I look over, the blacksmith’s walking in.

“Something I can do for you, Mister Taylor?”

His gaze swims around the room like an eel. “I came by to return this,” he says, holding out an empty plate. I don’t like his up-to-something shiftiness.

“Well, you returned it.” I take it from him and face away, showing him he should go.

“I thought Sarah would be in here washing dishes.”

I suck my teeth and shake my head. The filthy man’s come back to get himself some more of her. Bile climbs up my throat. I want to tell him to leave her alone. Leave all of us alone. Just ’cause that girl don’t know to hold herself more precious don’t mean he ought to take advantage, dipping in and out like drinking at a well. He ain’t no different from the rest of them.

I keep my back to him and speak to the coals. “Master don’t like folks acting a certain kind of way here.” I go to the fire and take up a stick, poking at the dying embers. Red sparks flare and float and cool into ash. “Not here.”

He comes close. Stands behind me. “You don’t understand about us,” he says.

I grip the poke-stick tighter. “You leave her be,” I say. My voice shakes.

“Maple, look at me,” he says.

His words take me back to Belle Grove Plantation with Master Nathaniel standing behind me, waiting for me to finish with the fire, laying me down and gripping my chin to turn my head from facing the flames. “Look at me,” he’d say before he covered my mouth.

I’m miles away from him and trembling. And I’m breaking into pieces for Rose, there, on the floorboards, looking at him while he covers her mouth. My only child. From the bottom of my soul, I weep for her.

“Are you all right, Maple?” Henry Taylor asks from behind me.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and I jump like I been shot through with lightning. I scoot away and whip around, holding out the fire-stick. “You stay away from me,” I say. “If you touch me, Master’s gonna throw you right out of here.”

He holds his hands up and takes a step back. “I’ll not hurt you. I was only asking what’s wrong.”

“You think you can do what you like. You take and take and think you can just keep on taking. Well, you can’t.” I’m crying hard and sloppy till I can barely get the words out. “Master don’t have that here.” I back against the wall shaking the stick at him. “Master don’t have that here.”

I know it’s Henry Taylor, the blacksmith, standing in front of me, but it feels like it’s Master Nathaniel come for me again. But Master Nathaniel’s with Rose, laying her down, hiking her dress up, covering her mouth. I gasp for air and push into the rough wooden slats of the kitchen house wall that trap me in here with him.