Eli, for Sarah, I am not. I am not a pristine woman. I have been used. And then then he got tired of me. He kicked us out.
Sarah found work in a place, a house on the Bowery. She said it was better than starving. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Hot tracks on her cold skin. The fire happened at night.
They locked the doors from the outside to keep the girls from stealing. When the smoke started, there was no way out. I stood on the street and listened to them scream. She turned her head away from him, burying her face in the pillow. So you see, she whispered, I am tainted.
I am dirty. That is why the town looks at me that way. Maybe they are right. For a long moment, there was only the sound of the wind. Then Eli spoke.
His voice was rough, like gravel grinding together. You are not dirty, Maggie. You survived. He took a breath, a shuddering intake of air. I killed her.
He said. Maggie froze. She turned her head back. Who? Clara, my wife.
It was 5 years ago, he continued, the words tumbling out as if a dam had broken. She was 8 months with child. We were in town for supplies. The snow started falling around noon. The doctor told me to stay.
He said a blizzard was coming, but I was I was arrogant. I wanted to be in my own bed. I thought I knew the weather better than anyone. He stopped. Maggie could feel the tension radiating off him.
The muscles in his arm coiled tight. I made her get in the wagon. She was scared. Maggie. She asked me to wait.
I told her to trust me. His voice broke. It was a terrible sound. A man weeping without tears. The drifts were 4 ft deep within an hour.
The wheel hit a hidden rock. The wagon tipped. She She was pinned underneath. I tried to lift it. I tried for hours.