Dear, Hamilton

Bury the Hatchet... into the wall

That night Angelica, Peggy, and I sleep huddled in Angelica's bed together, all of us tense with worry as one thought weighs on all of our minds; Are the British going to come here tonight?

None of us wants to voice the thought aloud for fear it would jinx us. Angelica tugs an arm around my shoulders from where she lays between Peggy and me, and she hugs me close. 

After our mother had declared earlier that we were fine and no British were coming, we'd silently eaten a dinner of mashed potatoes, fried okra, and a tiny slab of steak. Afterward, the three of us sisters had slunk away to our rooms, only to converge in Angelica's room to sleep together.

"Just like old times," Peggy whispers into the dark.

Angelica huffs a laugh from beside me. "I miss this."

I must have drifted off while we were laying there staring up at the ceiling because soon someone is shaking my shoulders urgently, jolting me awake. "Eliza, get up," Peggy hisses, and my eyes snap open.

I hurriedly sit upright, and Peggy moves to the side to avoid getting whacked in the head by my head. "What is it?" I ask, my breathes coming in frenzied gasps as my eyes dart around the dark room.

"The British. They're here," Peggy whispers, and I hear the tinge of fear in her voice.

"What?" I gasp, my eyes widening, but Peggy puts a finger to her lips to tell me to stay quiet. I strain my ears for any sounds and, after a moment, I can hear the muffled shouts of the British from outside. "What are they saying?" I ask Peggy.

"To get out of the house," Angelica answers quietly as she enters the room with our mother and father in tow. Angelica answers my unsaid question by stating, "We're not leaving the house."

We hear a loud bang from downstairs, and we all jump in surprise. "Over here," our father orders, ushering us towards the corner of the room behind the door. We all hurry over and squat down, huddled together.

"Why are they here?" I whisper as I hear the sounds of glass breaking downstairs-- the British forcing their way inside the house.

"There have been rumors that the British have been planning to kidnap your father," my mother answers in a hushed voice. "It seems that rumor has come to fruition because they're here looking for your father."

Another bang, and then the downstairs is filled with British voices. They'd also broken through the front door. "Oh no," my mother hisses suddenly with wide, fearful eyes. "I left Catherine downstairs."

We all stare at each other wide-eyed. "Who's Catherine?" I ask finally.

"Baby Catherine. Mother had her a month and a half ago when you were gone at the Six Nation Indians," Angelica whispers, sticking to my cover story. "If she cries, then the British will know we're here in the house."

I stand up and say quietly, "I'll go get her. Where is she?"

Peggy swiftly stands up and tries to push me back down. "No, I'll get her, Eliza. You need to stay here." Before I can ask why she continues, "Eliza, you have Alexander. And you, Angelica, you're pregnant."

Wait what? I manage to stop myself from blurting just that, and instead give Angelica a sharp look for not telling me. How could I have not realized?

I turn to Peggy and grasp her hands. "Peggy you have Stephen Van Rensselaer, your sweetheart. I'm just like you, so let me go," I protest.

Peggy shakes her head and says, "No, you're not just like me."

But our father quickly interjects, "No, I should go. Everyone stay here."