The Needle's Eye (novel preview)

Chapter Two

The Needle's Eye

Chapter Two

The three sisters lived in a quaint stone cottage that was set apart from the others in the village. Near the cliffside, the south windows offered a perfect view of the sea. This was the house their father had built, and the air inside never ceased to feel cooler than it was because of the wind that came in from the water. A small fire had been managed in the hearth, but it could hardly exorcise the chill. The night was dark without the walls, but in the midst of them, a lantern and some candles were set to cast light and comfort.

There, the sisters sat around an aged table. Emily stared down at the box in front of her, releasing a shaky sigh. She was not sure what would happen when she removed the lid from the wooden chest containing her memories—not feeling confident that she was even ready to do so. She didn't know if she could bear it, which was what had brought on her initial idea to bury it, but what was there to dread, save for a few more tears? She'd shed plenty already.

With the comforting thought that both her sisters were sitting near her, she lifted the lid bravely.

At the appearance of the first paper, they were all sent into nervous laughter with their recollections about a tale involving three little girls, a clever bear, and a talking foxglove. Elizabeth and Delia remembered the story after hearing the version Emily had recorded when she was a girl, making comments about it as the youngest jotted them down with a quill. They went on through a few other short tales, sipping tea as they sat in the lower level of their father's house.

It was wonderful, Emily thought, that as they chatted and reminisced, all the terrible things that were kept so silent between them seemed to vanish completely. There was no man named Robert who was threatening to take Elizabeth away and never return with her. There was no desire in Delia to remain bitter and loveless for the rest of her life. There was no uncertainty in herself about what her life was going to be like if neither of her sisters were with her. Everything was friendly and perfect in their little family.

Emily looked at her sisters, and for the first time in quite a while, she felt happy.

She reached into the box once again as Elizabeth and Delia chatted fondly together, and while Emily did not pay close attention to what they were saying, she contented herself with the light sound of their voices. Her fingers roved past scraps of paper inside the box, resting finally on a small sheet that seemed fully intact.

Drawn to the paper, Emily took it between her fingers and held it up to let her eyes pass over it. She read the words, and it was a gradual motion that stole the smile from her face as if she had been made ill in an instant.

This is—! she thought with a start. Why would I write this?

She continued to look at the paper silently, clutching it in her frozen hand, but when her fingers began to tremble, she dropped it back into the box, passing it over as if it did not exist.

Her sisters were not quite as oblivious to her action as Emily might have hoped. Across the table, Elizabeth and Delia's smiles faltered at her pause. Emily did not look directly at them, hoping that she might be ignored.

"What's wrong, Books?" Elizabeth asked, crushing her sister's silent hope.

She raised her head then, hesitantly, seeing their familiar eyes turned her way. Her sisters looked at her so intently that she could almost hear their thoughts. What was that troubled expression on Emily's face? Has the depression for our situation finally taken her now that these memories have surfaced? The youngest girl couldn't bear their gazes.