Chapter 8

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   Eventually, Jacquotte was able to get a job as a maid in an inn. It paid next to nothing, but it came with a room. She was due to give birth in just two months, and already the baby's name was picked out. Jonasen if it was a boy, and Rozalie if it was a girl. The innkeeper took pity on her and let her take the lighter jobs, such as sweeping or mending. There was only two other maids, but, Jacquotte didn't talk to them much. They were gossipy and mean, and to be honest Jacquotte detested their prattling.

   Jacquotte continued in this way, working quietly and keeping to herself. Then the time came to give birth. She couldn't afford a midwife or a physician, and no one in the inn was willing to help her, so she spent an entire day alone, trying to get through that horrible time. Imagine her surprise when she had not one baby, but two! Two tiny boys, one named Jonasen and one named Roussel. Jonasen was the stronger of the two, even at a few weeks old that was obvious. Roussel was perpetually sick, and much smaller than his twin. Jonasen progressed normally, able to smile and laugh and sit up, but Roussel couldn't quite seem to get it. But Jacquotte loved her sons, and tried to do everything she could to take care of them.

   When the twins were almost a year old, Roussel developed a cough. It was a persistent dry hack that practically shook his entire body. Jacquotte took him to a physician, who asked for money than she made in an entire year for a syrupy black medicine that smelled like feces. But she forked up the money, desperate for Roussel to get better. Two weeks later, his cough had gotten worse and he had a fever. The medicine was nearly gone, and she couldn't afford anymore. She tried to keep Jonasen and Roussel separate, so the sickness didn't spread.

   One night she woke up for some reason. She was compelled to go and check on her sons, even though neither were crying. Jonasen was fine, quietly sleeping but occasionally giving a little snuffle. But Roussel... Jacquotte felt her heart clench in fear, icy tendrils shooting down her spine. Roussel was not moving. 


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