The Traitor's Stain (wattys 2019)

Chapter Nine: Setauket, Long Island

Ophelia would never go back to having a normal life.

That had been clear after about a week of being involved in Ben's spy ring. She'd thought tat after awhile, she would get used to the idea, that she would grow more comfortable with her new role in the revolution. That, however, hadn't turned out to be the case. She saw danger lurking in every corner, practically jumped at her own shadow. She tried to simply grin and bear her new burden, but that didn't end up changing a thing: the fact remained that every face she saw, whether or not it was familiar, was either a potential ally or a potential whistle blower. She was keenly aware of that fact every second of every day. Where she once saw Colonel Erikson and Matthew as friendly faces, she now saw them as men that might kill her if they knew what she was doing. Every morning, she wondered if that would be the day she was discovered, and every night, she thanked God that she was still safe. The days that passed without much suspicion from anybody did nothing to ease her fears. It's only a matter of time, Ophelia thought to herself almost constantly. It's only a matter of time before they find you out and hang you from the nearest tree.

People noticed the change in her demeanor, of course, but most assumed that it had to do with what had happened to her husband. Ophelia wasn't entirely sure how, since she'd done her best to be discrete about it, but news about her husband had spread around Setauket all that week, until it seemed that everyone knew. Neighbors brought her bread, Michael refused to charge her when she asked him to fix some of the machinery around the house; everyone around her treated her like a porcelain doll, one that might break with the slightest provocation. frankly, that just made her feel worse: she just wanted to live her life as if nothing had happened, but nobody would let her, including herself. She was doomed on her current course, and it didn't seem like there was anything she could do about it.

She was helpless, and God, did she hate it.

"You're miserable, aren't you?" Beth phrased the question more as a statement. It was about a week after Noah had been captured and Ophelia had become a spy, and autumn had truly arrived: the leaves were changing color, the air getting chillier. Constance was back at school, meaning that it was just Ophelia and Beth at the store. In all honesty... it was kind of lonely. Just as it always was at that time of year.

"Why do you say that?" Ophelia asked, looking up at the registry. Or, more specifically, her secret registry with only British purchases on them. She'd thought that it might serve to help the cause, but at the moment, none of the soldiers stationed in Setauket had purchased anything interesting.

"You can talk to me, Miss Ophelia," Beth said, turning to face her midway through stocking one of the shelves, "really."

Ophelia sighed, looking up at Beth. "Is it that obvious?"

Beth hesitated before she responded. "... I know you aren't going to enjoy hearing this, but... you aren't exactly difficult to read: you wear your emotions on your sleeve, especially when you're sad or worried."

"Well, I'm a little of both with Noah," Ophelia said, looking back at the registry, as if something of use might magically appear if she looked back at it every few seconds. Of course, though, it didn't.

She looked back up at Beth. She had that look on her face she got when she knew that there was something she wasn't being told.

Ophelia frowned. "What? That's it, really."

Beth shrugged as she continued to stock shelves. "I never said there was anything else."

She knows, Ophelia thought with some level of horror. She knows what I'm doing.