Ashes Read Online Free Page B

witch stole her from me. Until then, she’d slept next to me every night of her life. Every day I had played with her, taken her to the privy, and shown her how to do the work required of us. After Momma died, I did mothering things for her, like sewing dolls and making her wash her hands and teaching her prayers. I was all the family she had in the world. She was all I had too.
    I leaned closer. “Don’t you remember me?”
    She scooped another mewling kitten out of the box and cuddled it against her cheek, avoiding my gaze.
    An icy thought shot through me. Had she broken her head? Ruth had been born with the falling sickness. ’Twas my job to watch over her, to catch her before she hit the ground when overtaken by a fit. My biggest fear had always been that one day she’d fall and crack her head on a rock because I wouldn’t be there.
    â€œI held you when you were born,” I said weakly. “We grew up together, you and me–”
    â€œDon’t know you,” Ruth said.
    â€œWhat?” My knees weakened. This could not be real, none of it.
    What if it hadn’t been a fall? Ruth had not been like other children. She learned things slower and needed to be shown the doing of a task one hundred times instead of one. But when she finally understood the hows of a chore, she never forgot it. A few called her “simple,” but our mother did not hold with such language. Ruth was just Ruth, and that was good enough for us.
    But how to understand her manner toward me now? Had they treated her so badly that her wits were fully addled, her remembery lost forever? Why doesn’t she know me?
    â€œWho’s that?” The cook stood in the doorway of the summer kitchen. “You there, girl, what’s your business?”
    The voice startled me into action. “Ruth.” I grabbed her elbow. “Come with me.”
    She pulled away with a frown. Her refusal surprised me as much as her strength.
    â€œUnhand that child!” The cook rushed toward us as I again reached for my sister. Close on her heels came the old man and the boy with the injured arm.
    â€œI’ve come to take you home,” I said urgently. “We have to run!”
    I reached for her again and managed to clutch a handful of her skirt.
    â€œDon’t touch her,” shouted the boy.
    The old man hobbled behind him. “You let go of our Ruth!” he called in a high, reedy voice. “Release her!”
    The three of them pressed close together like a guard. Ruth spun out of my grip and slipped behind them.
    Why doesn’t she know me?
    The ground under my feet seemed to roll, as if I stood aboard a ship in the middle of the ocean. This almost-grown Ruth thought I was a stranger. My body ached with the pain of it. My heart hung heavy in my chest, not wanting to beat.
    She turned her face away from me.
    â€œPlease–” I started.
    â€œThe soldiers took everything.” The old man was out of breath, but he spoke quickly. “I’m sorry, lass, we’ve nothing left to give. Mister Prentiss is due back soon and–”
    â€œYou don’t understand,” I interrupted. “I’m not looking for food. I’m here for Ruth.”
    The boy moved so that he stood betwixt us, a spindly fence with long legs. “Don’t seem she knows you,” he said.
    His rude manner sparked my anger.
    â€œDon’t seem that’s your business,” I snapped. “Tell them, Ruth.”
    Ruth gently shook her head back and forth, denying me wordlessly.
    â€œYou ought to leave right away, child,” the cook said quietly, “for your own safety. These are unsettled times.”
    â€œFina’s right,” the man added. “’Tain’t safe here. Wait in the woods till dark; we’ll bring food. But then you must head out. Last thing we need is more trouble.”
    â€œI’m not making trouble!”
    â€œHush!” The boy