The Blackstone Chronicles

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Authors: John Saul
was simply giving her daughter some time to get over it, but deep inside he suspected that Elizabeth had simply not been able to consider Megan’s feelings, any more than she’d been able to concentrate on the movie.
    “Mommy doesn’t love me anymore, does she?” Megan had asked when he’d gone in to say good night. Her voice was quavering, and though he couldn’t see her face in the shadowy room, he’d tasted the saltiness of tears when he kissed her cheek.
    “Of course she loves you,” he’d assured her. “She’s just not feeling well, that’s all.”
    But Megan had not been consoled. “No, she doesn’t,” she insisted. “She just loves Sam.”
    He’d tried to assure her that things would be better tomorrow, when the two of them would go and find a Christmas tree, but even that hadn’t cheered Megan up. When he left her room, she’d already rolled over, turning her back to him.
    Things had been no better with Elizabeth. She was already in bed, and though he knew she wasn’t asleep, she hadn’t responded when he tried to cuddle her close to him. At last he’d given up, contenting himself with lying next to her and holding her hand, determined to stay awake until he heard her breath drift into the steady rhythms of sleep.
    But he hadn’t been able to stay awake, and now he’d awakened to find himself alone.
    The last gong of the hour struck, leaving the house in silence. Then he heard the squeak of the rocking chair. Slipping out of bed and putting on the thick woolen robe Elizabeth had given him two Christmases ago, he went through the bathroom into the nursery.
    Elizabeth was sitting in the rocking chair she had rescued from the attic and painted pale blue.
    Once more, she was humming a soft lullaby to the doll, as she had when he’d come home in the afternoon.
    But tonight she was doing something else as well.
    The pale skin of her bare breast gleamed in the moonlight, and he could see the doll’s head pressed firmly against her nipple.
    He went to her and knelt beside the rocking chair. “Come back to bed, darling,” he whispered. “You’re so tired, and it’s so late.”
    For a moment he wasn’t sure she heard him, but then she turned her head and smiled at him. “In a minute,” she said. “I have to finish feeding the baby, and then put him down for the night.”
    Though she’d spoken the words softly, in a voice so sweet it broke his heart, they still sliced through him like tiny knives.
    “No, darling,” he said. “It’s not a baby. It’s just a doll.” He rose to his feet and reached down as if to take the doll from her, but she shrank away from him, and he saw her arms tighten. “Elizabeth, please,” he said. “Don’t do this. You know it’s not a—”
    “Don’t say it!” she commanded, her voice rising. “Just go back to bed!”
    “For God’s sake, Elizabeth—” he began again, but once again his wife cut his words off.
    “Leave me alone!” she shouted. “I didn’t ask you to come in here! And I know what I’m doing! I can take care of my baby!” She was on her feet now, and there was a look in her eye that frightened Bill.
    “It’s all right,” he said, forcing his voice back to a gently soothing tone. “Of course you know what you’re doing, and of course you can take care of the baby. It’s just late, that’s all. I thought maybe I could help you.”
    “I can do it,” Elizabeth said, her voice taking on an edge of desperation. “I can take care of my baby. I know I can. Just leave us alone and we’ll be fine.” Her eyes met his now, beseeching him. “Please? Can’t you just leave us alone for a little while?”
    Suddenly Bill felt utterly disoriented. Was his wife losing her mind? What should he do?
    Take the doll away from her? No! That would only make things worse.
    The doctor. He should call Dr. Margolis. Dr. Margolis would know what to do. “All right,” he said, taking care to keep his voice perfectly level. “I’ll go back to

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