Chapters (41)
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- PART TWO
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
She nodded. “Before I blacked out, I caught a glimpse. Malia had to pull her out of me. I couldn’t push.” Her heart raced, the pin prickling of sweat against her skin, the heat from the rocks and sand becoming unbearable. They’d made it too hot. She kicked the blanket off her legs, like a recalcitrant child. She wanted to tell him what she’d seen, the other twin, what Wowo łashhi had been holding. “It didn’t make sense. I was delirious.”
He pressed his hand against her shoulder; his palm was work-hard and damp with sweat. She resisted the urge to pull away from the heat. “Nala said witchcraft, but it could have been anything. No one knows what causes such things. It wasn’t your fault.”
Wasn’t it? Wasn’t everything that had happened since the bridge somehow her fault?
“I don’t believe in witchcraft.” Her voice was flat though her stomach roiled, her face feverish.
“Tell me what you saw.”
She looked down at the corn girl still swaddled against her chest. On the ground beside them, the cradleboard. “They buried her.”
He followed her gaze. “My mother gave you mine.” His voice was soft, kind. Wistful. She couldn’t stop the tears. He held her face, wiped it gently with the pads of his thumbs. “It was my daughter’s. I’m glad it’s gone to yours.”
“You have to let me see my other girl. I have to see …”
“That she’s gone?”
“They buried her.”
The corn girl began to cry.
He reached for her. “May I?” His whole family had held her. They thought she was his. “What will you call her?”
She felt silly telling him what she’d been calling the corn girl. “Do you know where they buried her? They won’t tell me. Malia said it’s for my safety, and hers. Both girls.”
“We believe that.”
“Will you bring her to me?”
He sighed again, reached to sweep the hair from his face, but it was already pulled back in the ponytail. He touched the corn girl’s baby-fine hair instead, cooed at her, whispered something in Zuni.
Calliope smiled. “What are you telling her?”
“How beautiful she is. Like her mama.”
Calliope’s cheeks and neck burned. The blood rushed to her breasts, milk dampening her dress. She reached for the blanket, covering herself. He handed the corn girl back to Calliope.
“I’ll bring the other one to you, mujer. Only, I’m worried it’ll upset you, seeing her.”
“My baby died, Chance. I’m already beyond upset.”