The Family Origin

Chapter Forty-Three: JOSEPH POV

Waking up to Maisie's screams let me know that Briar had finally died. When I came into their room, Miles had Maisie pinned to the bed. Her screaming and fighting made her look like an even worse mess. Her words were a nonsensical mess. Three simple slashes across her arm would not be enough to make her calm down this time. We needed another plan.

Miles held her down as I covered her face with the rag soaked in tranquillizer. Her fighting soon stopped as her body fell limp, just like the night we had met in the tavern. I pulled the cloth away from her face. Her usual pale skin was red and splotchy from her tears. Dark circles were under her eyes. She needed the rest we were providing her.

Miles let go of her wrists. He brushed strands of her tear-soaked blonde hair out of her face. His expression was blank as he stared down at his unconscious wife. He ran his fingers across her cheeks, wiping away her tears, and dragged his fingers down to her chin. I prayed he would understand that we were doing this to protect the family. I did not need the two of them hating me.

"She will be asleep for a while," I said. "We should make her comfortable before we take care of Briar."

A quick flash of emotion was on his face when he looked at the crib. It was brief, but I noticed how his brows were drawn together and how he bit his bottom lip.

"She was right," he said. His voice was cold and had no waver of emotion. "Briar needed a doctor."

"No." I shook my head. "Nothing has changed. Maisie was always overreacting."

"Briar is dead."

"You know that babies die sometimes. The same thing happened to your sister."

Miles let out a deep breath. He ran his fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes. I stayed silent, hoping he would come to the appropriate conclusion on his own. Explaining that I knew Briar was sick was not going to benefit any of us.

Without saying a word, Miles turned back around to face Maisie. He adjusted her body so she lay straighter on the bed and her head was on the pillow before he covered her with blankets. I stayed silent as I watched him run his hand over her hair and then kissed her forehead. The moment seemed too intimate for me to witness, so I stepped toward the crib and looked away.

Briar's lifeless body was so small in the crib. She looked just like how we found Victoria all of those years ago. Briar must have been suffering from the same illness Victoria had, so I was even more confident that we would have wasted our money on medicine. Nothing would have saved the little girl. She was too weak. She was too fragile to survive this world.

The floor creaked as Miles stepped away from the bed. I reached into the crib and wrapped Briar's body into one of the blankets. I recognized the knitted baby blanket as the one Clara made when she was pregnant with Miles. She had always proudly passed it down to all of the children. I lifted Briar's body and cradled her to my chest. Miles looked down at her, and his face returned to a blank expression.

"What do we do now?" Miles asked.

"Do you want to hold her one last time?" I asked.

"No." He shook his head. "I don't want to touch her."

I was unable to understand Miles's mind, but I knew he avoided confronting the things that made him upset. When Emily died, he did not speak to any of us for weeks and spent most of his time outside. Clara had made excuses for him, saying that he was learning to grieve. At least he was not an emotional mess like Maisie.

"We are going to bury her next to your Mother and Emily," I said.

Miles closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He stayed still and silent for a moment. When his eyes opened, he stormed out of the bedroom without looking at Briar. I listened as he walked through the home and the door slammed shut. An eerie quietness fell over the house.

I looked at Maisie; seeing her finally getting some rest was nice. Over the past few days, she looked weak from exhaustion. After Miles punished her, she controlled her crying better, but it was obvious that she was not sleeping. Watching Briar slowly die nearly killed Maisie. Her mind was crumbling from stress and anxiety. Forcing her to sleep was what she needed, both physically and emotionally.

I kept Briar in the blanket as I carried her outside. With one hand, I pulled the key off my neck and unlocked the door. I made sure to lock the door behind me because I did not need Miles to be more upset. As I walked across the lawn, I saw Miles walking out of the barn with two shovels. He said nothing as he walked to the cemetery we had been creating for our family. The grass had grown over the spot where we had buried Clara, but there were still a few patches of dirt to indicate where we laid her to rest. Emily's grave was only marked by a collection of rocks Clara and I had stacked the afternoon we buried our daughter. Miles dropped one of the shovels before digging into the ground next to Clara. I set Briar down on the grass and picked up the other shovel to help him dig the grave.

We worked in silence. Each time I glanced at Miles, his brows were furrowed and his jaw was hardened. I stayed quiet and waited for him to speak.

"What do we do about Maisie?" he asked. "She's never going to stop crying. I hate all the crying."

"She will be fine," I said. "She got herself worked up over the past week. Not sleeping is not good for the mind, and that is why she has been acting so extreme. We are giving her the rest that she needs."

"How long will she be asleep?"

"As long as she needs. Until she calms down."

Miles bit down on his lip as he dug. Dirt was splattering his pants. I glanced over my shoulder to see the fresh grave in the distance. We disposed of Vincent's body away from our family. He did not deserve to rest so close to the people we loved. His goal had always been to destroy us.

"Remember all the other times Maisie has been upset?" I asked. "She always learns to cope with her emotions."

Miles stopped digging and tightened his grip on his shovel. "Did you know Briar was going to die?"

His voice no longer had the cold and emotionless tone I was used to from him. Instead, he sounded like the little child I once knew. He sounded so small, which was even more jarring because of his large size. Was he about to start crying as we dug the grave? He had always been one to show his anger instead of sadness when he was upset.

"No," I lied. "Babies often get sick and die, but I did not know Briar was going to die. There was nothing we could have done anyways."

"Maisie wanted to get her help," he said.

"Who would have helped us?" I asked, knowing I needed to keep feeding into his paranoia. He would never forgive me if he knew the truth. He would have spent every penny we had on pointless medicine that would not save Briar. "You know that no one outside this house cares about this family. I went to the Thatcher's home to get help from Edith about delivering your baby, and what happened? Vincent later came to our home and threatened our family because Edith wanted to help. There is no one out there who cares about us. We only have each other and that's it. We can't ask others for help."

Miles nodded as he looked down at the grave. He did not share what was going through his mind. He resumed digging, and we finished the grave in silence. Still bundled in the blanket, I placed Briar down in the grave. Miles closed his eyes and took a step back. I dropped the dirt into the grave, but Miles was unable to look at his daughter's body. He dropped the shovel onto the ground and sat next to it on the grass. He rested his arms on his bent knees to block his vision. I did not complain and let him rest as I finished the grave.

After I finished packing the dirt with the back of the shovel, I looked over at him to see his emotionless expression returned.

"Stay with Maisie today," I told him. "She is going to be asleep for a while, but when she wakes she needs to know you are there for her. You need to take care of her. We are going to help her get through this. We are probably going to have to force her to rest until she gets rid of her exhaustion. She needs a clear mind in order to feel better."

Miles nodded. His attention was focused on the grave. I prayed he would stay strong, but I was confident he would take care of Maisie. He loved his wife, and he had already proved he would do whatever he needed to do to take care of the family. I told him everything he needed to do.