Simply knowing the words couldn’t stop her from fearing just now. But then, the words themselves didn’t say if I am afraid. The psalmist feared too. It was a given. A when. The problem, then, wasn’t in experiencing the feeling. Only in what she chose to do with it.

She could probably pass the whole morning by enumerating every time she’d been afraid and had chosen something other than trust. But that didn’t seem like it would help her overmuch. Instead, she read through the next several psalms, counting each time the writer feared or cried out or complained, and how many times he turned it all over to the Lord. Though his life was in danger, though his enemies surrounded him, he chose to trust.

That required bravery as well as faith.

Mama woke from her nap after an hour, and Lily helped her sip a bit of tea . . . which sent her running back to the toilet. At least she was still strong enough to want to get up rather than use the basin, though. Upon settling again, she declared herself not tired enough for another nap, so Lily fetched a novel from the library and read aloud to her.

Her fever increased by a degree or two throughout the morning, but the thermometer didn’t read a high enough number that Lily felt the necessity to alert anyone, and her mother’s lungs remained clear. No blue tinge to her lips. That didn’t, of course, mean that it wasn’t the flu or that it might not prove itself serious later. But she didn’t feel too bad for slipping out for a few minutes in the early afternoon to find a bite to eat while Mama dozed again.

Sandwich in hand, she decided to stretch her legs for another minute and wandered toward the entryway to see if the post had come.

It had. She leafed through it, chewing on her sandwich.

“Everything all right, Miss Lily? How is your mother?”

Lily turned to smile at Eaton, who stood with worry lines etched into his face. “She is resting. And her breathing is clear, which I take as a very good sign.”

“Praise God for that. I shall just—”

The doorbell sang through the entryway, cutting him off and making Lily jump. And fight back a surge of irritation. Shouldn’t everyone know that there was someone inside trying to sleep?

Eaton moved the three steps to the door and pulled it open. “Miss Ivy?”

Ivy? Probably stealing a few minutes to check on Mama, but why would she ring the bell? Though Lily had been reaching for her plate, she instead turned to the door.

Just in time to see her sister’s pale face a moment before Ivy crumpled to the ground.

23

You were right.”