But I stayed tucked into myself, even after I heard him turn over onto his own side, his hands moving fast, before he thrust one arm over to grab at my shoulder and then fell asleep.

I dreamt that night that a million tiny white feathers broke through the skin of the palms of my hands, and when I waved, I felt the breeze flow through them. When I awoke, Emmanuel was gone and his side of the bed was already cold. From the looks of the sun, it was still early in the morning. I had not been so derelict as to sleep in. I dressed as quickly as I could and opened the door, and tiptoed down the hallway and to the stairs. There was no sound of Ella or Bishop Chase. Or even Emmanuel.

The foyer was empty. Bishop Chase’s office was empty. I went to stand in the dining room, to look through the windows at the back courtyard. A group of children played there—a few in burlap shirts, another few completely naked, none in pants or shoes. They were slapping their hands together and shouting. I could just hear a bit of their song.

Li se yon esklav ki damou

Li se yon esklav ki damou

Li se yon esklav ki damou

Libète moun Nwa!

They sang it a few more times before I recognized, with a start, my own name. I turned away from the window, my cheeks burning, and moved through the rest of the house.

In the sitting room, Ella was already composed on the lone divan—a battered wooden structure with the horsehair falling from the bottom. Emmanuel sat at the table, writing. Ella was bent over some sewing in her lap.

“There she is!” Emmanuel called, and put down his pen to come and press my hands into his. Ella would not look up.

“Good morning,” I said, to both of them.

“My love, I must go see Monsieur Colon, my mentor here in Jacmel. I have not seen him in so many years, and he would be offended if I did not see him first.”

“I will come with you.”

“It is not necessary,” he said.

I looked from his face to Ella’s bent head and back again. I narrowed my eyes.

“You will go with Ella and Ti Me to market. When I return, we can begin to unpack the things for my office,” Emmanuel said. “Monsieur Colon is a very intelligent man. But he is suspicious of women, especially a woman as beautiful as my wife. I will have to be gentle with the news of our marriage.”

“He, at least, warrants that consideration,” Ella said to the sewing in her lap.

“You will be happier here, Libertie, than coming with me.”

I said nothing, only glared at him.

“You will have time enough to meet the rest of the neighborhood. Half of them know you are here already. Did you not hear the song the children have already made up in your honor?”