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Chapters (45)
  1. Fire
  2. 1: Sara
  3. 2: Mary
  4. 3: Sara
  5. 4: Mary
  6. 5: Sara
  7. 6: Mary
  8. 7: Sara
  9. 8: Esther
  10. 9: Mary
  11. 10: Sara
  12. 11: Esther
  13. 12: Mary
  14. 13: Sara
  15. 14: Esther
  16. 15: Mary
  17. 16: Sara
  18. 17: Esther
  19. 18: Mary
  20. 19: Sara
  21. 20: Esther
  22. 21: Mary
  23. 22: Sara
  24. 23: Esther
  25. 24: Mary
  26. 25: Sara
  27. 26: Mary
  28. 27: Joy
  29. 28: Sara
  30. 29: Joy
  31. 30: Mary
  32. 31: Sara
  33. 32: Joy
  34. 33: Mary
  35. 34: Sara
  36. 35: Joy
  37. 36: Mary
  38. 37: Sara
  39. 38: Joy
  40. 39: Mary
  41. 40: Sara
  42. 41: Joy
  43. 42: Mary
  44. 43: Sara
  45. Acknowledgments

I mind she stared at me for a wee moment, then she seemed to get smaller in front of me, like the air had been let out of her. Then she got up and went to the wardrobe. It had no doors, just a rail inside with dresses hanging on it. They were plain auld things, not like the dress Esther had on her. They might have been white at one time, but now they were grey and raggedy. She lifted one down, then another, and helt them agin herself to see which would fit best. She chose one and set it on her bed.

I watched her as she undid a button at the back of her dress, at her neck, then reached up between her shoulders and felt for a zip. I didn’t know that was what it was called then. I’d never seen one before. Everything we had was buttons. She pulled it down and the dress fell off her shoulders, and I couldn’t breathe. She lowered it down to the floor and she stepped out of it and I couldn’t lift my eyes from her. The Mummies, when they got changed, I could see the bones of them, their ribs, their shoulder blades. Not Esther. Her body was full and her skin was white and she had no scars and no sores, only a lock of bruises from falling down the stairs. She was perfect. I don’t mind if I knew that word back then, but I know it now, and that’s what she was.

Just perfect.

She lifted her dress and she laid it on the bed, smoothed it out all flat, spread out the skirt of it, the arms. She ran her fingers over it, touched the hems and the stitching and the pleats. Like it was a precious thing, like a treasure. And then she noticed me watching her, and she covered herself up, like she was ashamed. I wanted to tell her not to be ashamed, not to hide, because she was perfect, but I didn’t have a breath in me. She gathered up the dress she’d taken from the wardrobe and pulled it on over her head. Then she looked down at herself and cried awful hard. I didn’t think she could have any tears left in her, but she did.

Says I, We should go up and get started before Daddy Tam comes looking us. He’ll be thran if he has to come and get us.