Silence.

Harrison froze.

“What?”

“Your father knew about the agreement. After Edwin died, he offered a settlement.”

“To whom?”

“To Mabel’s guardian.”

Harrison looked at Mabel.

Then back.

“You.”

Josiah nodded.

“I accepted.”

Mabel’s heart stopped.

“How much?”

“Six thousand dollars.”

In 1871, six thousand dollars could have changed their lives.

Instead, they were drowning in debt.

Mabel whispered, “Where is it?”

Josiah said nothing.

“Where is my money?”

“It’s gone.”

The words shattered something inside her.

“All of it?”

“I made investments.”

“You gambled it.”

“I invested!”

“You gambled it!”

Mabel’s voice cracked across the room.

Years of being hidden.

Years of patched dresses.

Years of watching her mother count pennies.

Years of being told she had no prospects.

All while her father had quietly sold away her inheritance.

She turned toward Harrison.

His face was stricken.

“I didn’t know.”

She believed him.

That almost made it worse.

Mabel fled.

She ran to the barn and was halfway through saddling their old mare when Clementine appeared.

“Mabel.”

“Go away.”

“Please.”

Mabel tightened the cinch.

“I said go away.”

“I tried to tell you.”

Mabel spun.

“You tried to tell Harrison.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought he knew!”

Clementine’s voice echoed through the barn.

Mabel stopped.

“What?”

Clementine was crying openly now.

“I found Father’s papers last winter. Letters between Thomas Cole and Father. Receipts. The settlement.”

She wiped her face.

“When Harrison came to town and immediately began visiting us, what was I supposed to think?”

“That he liked you.”

“So did everyone else.”

Clementine laughed bitterly.

“Mother kept pushing me toward him. Father kept inviting him here. But I thought…”

Her voice cracked.

“I thought Harrison knew about you.”

Mabel slowly understood.

“You thought he was courting you to get close to me.”

“Yes.”

“And when you saw him in the kitchen…”

“I thought I was right.”

Clementine looked ashamed.

“I thought he planned to charm you into signing away whatever claim remained.”

Mabel sank onto a hay bale.

For years she had envied Clementine.

Resented her.

Sometimes hated her.

Now she looked at her beautiful younger sister and saw something she had missed.

Clementine had been dressed, polished and paraded with the same cruelty Mabel had been hidden.

They were simply different kinds of merchandise.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Clementine sat beside her.

“Because Father said exposing it could send him to prison.”

Mabel looked over.

“And you cared?”

“He is still our father.”

“I’m aware.”

“And Mother…”

Clementine clasped her hands.

“She said if Father went to prison, we’d lose the house. That nobody would marry either of us. That I had to fix things.”

“With Harrison.”

Clementine nodded miserably.

“Mother told me if I married him, we could make the problem disappear.”

Mabel felt sick.

“So you were willing?”

“No.”

The answer came immediately.

“I was terrified.”

She looked at Mabel.

“You think I enjoy being stared at?”

Mabel frowned.

“You always seemed to.”

“I learned to.”

Clementine smiled through tears.

“Do you know what it is like to have Mother pinch your waist before dinner because you ate bread at lunch?”

Mabel went still.

“To hear Father say your face is the only valuable thing left in the family?”

“Minnie…”

Clementine flinched at the childhood nickname.

Nobody had called her that in years.

“I was cruel to you last night,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mabel studied her.

“Why did you say I wasn’t what Harrison thought?”

Clementine’s mouth trembled.

“Because I was jealous.”

At least that was honest.

“But not because he chose you.”

Mabel blinked.

Clementine continued.

“I was jealous because when he looked at you, you didn’t have to perform.”

Mabel’s anger finally broke.

She reached for her sister.

Clementine collapsed against her.

They held each other in the barn, crying over years neither had understood properly.