Chapter 38

Miles never told me if Joseph talked to him about the murders, but his attitude took a sudden shift. His paranoia seemed to dissolve, and he was no longer lingering by the windows or doors. When he spoke to me at night, it was no longer an obsessed focus about keeping our family safe. Instead, he talked about the future, especially about having more children. He loved having a daughter but was also excited about having a son one day.

Our family was transitioning back to the family I had always dreamed about having, but there were two problems. The first issue was that Joseph had not quit drinking because I was still finding empty bottles in his bedroom. He must have cut down on his whiskey because he was no longer stumbling around the house and slurring his words. The second problem was that we were running out of food, mostly meat. Joseph kept telling me to cook smaller and smaller portions because that was all we could afford.

Miles spent many evenings sitting by a fire outside before coming into the home to settle for bed. The smell of smoke always clung to his clothes and hair. I once asked if Briar and I could join him, but he told me he did not want to take the risk. That was my only glimpse into his remaining paranoia. He was still worried about outsiders.

One night, the sun was setting, and Miles was still outside. I had just changed Briar’s diaper and had her lie on her back on our bed. Over the past few months, I loved watching her grow. She was always smiling and such a curious baby. Even as she lay on her back, she loved inspecting her hands. This became our nightly routine while Miles was outside, and that was how I noticed the change in Briar.

Her chest was rising and falling with faster and shallower breaths than I was used to seeing. Her nostrils flared like it was harder for her to get the air into her body. I felt the colour drain from my face as I watched my daughter. Clara never talked about what to do when a baby’s breathing changed. Was this a type of illness? Was I doing something to cause this change? I lifted her off the bed, but her breathing remained rapid and shallow. My heart pounded as I was overcome with feeling helpless.

I rushed over to the window, hoping I could see Miles. If he saw me waving my arms, he would know I needed help and would have rushed inside. All I could see was a line of smoking coming from behind the barn. I chewed on my lip as I looked down at Briar. Her nostrils were still flaring.

Only one other person was in the home, so I moved without thinking. I walked down the hallway until I was outside Joseph’s bedroom. No noise came from the other side, so I was unsure if he had already fallen asleep. I knocked on his door, and my movements were more frantic than I intended. The floor creaked as Joseph walked toward the door.

Luckily, he had not yet fallen asleep because he was fully clothed. He raised a brow when he saw us standing in the hallway. We had not spoken alone since the night we sat together on the porch.

“Something is wrong with Briar,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Her breathing has changed.”

Joseph pushed his bedroom door open wider, motioning for me to come in. He pointed at a wooden chair in the corner of the room. I followed his silent command and sat in the chair. He ran his hand along the stubble that had grown along his jaw. I noticed his bottle of whiskey on the nightstand was mostly full. Hopefully, he was not too drunk tonight. I needed his mind to be clear enough to help us.

“What is different about her breathing?” he asked.

“It’s different,” I said. “It’s a lot faster and not as deep. Her nose is also bigger, like she is struggling to breathe.”

Joseph lowered himself onto one knee in front of us. He placed the back of his fingers against Briar’s cheeks and forehead as he pursed his lips. He lifted her hands and inspected her fingernails.

“Joseph, I don’t think she can breathe,” I said.

“Maisie, she is breathing,” he said. “Has she been coughing?”

“No,” I said. “I did hear her cough a few times this morning, but nothing tonight.”

“Has she been sleeping more?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Joseph nodded as he ran his fingers over Briar’s dark hair. Something flashed through his eyes, but I could not identify what it was. Hurt? Worry? What was he going to tell me?

“Keep an eye on her,” he said. “Let me know if she starts coughing. Also, be aware of whether her skin turns cold or clammy. Check her fingernails regularly to see if they’re turning blue. The edge of her lips could also turn blue.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked.

Joseph let out a deep breath as he looked down at Briar.

“Something similar happened to my daughter,” he said.

“Emily?” I asked.

The family rarely ever spoke about Miles’s sisters. Anytime Emily’s name was mentioned, Miles demeanor turned cold and his temper became short. Even Clara did not mention much. She glossed over Emily’s death like it never happened. All I knew was that she was sick.

“No.” Joseph shook his head. “Victoria. She was a baby when she died.”

I took in a sharp breath as I looked down at Briar. Tears burned my eyes, and I took in a few more deep breaths so I would not start crying. I could not lose my daughter. I refused to let that happen. If she died, it would be the end of me. My perfect dream family had finally come back, and I was losing them.

“We need to get her help,” I said, raising my voice louder. “We need a doctor-“

“Maisie-” Joseph tried to silence me.

“No,” I spoke over him. “She needs help. She needs medicine.”

“Maisie, we cannot afford a doctor. We cannot afford any medicine. We barely even have food right now.”

“Joseph, she’s your granddaughter. We cannot let her die.”

My cheeks were wet with tears. I could not let go of Briar to wipe them away. Knowing she was safe in my arms was the only thing stopping me from falling into complete panic.

“We are not letting her die,” Joseph said. “We will watch her ourselves. She will be fine.”

“What about the woman who helped with my birth?” I asked. “Maybe she could help us. Maybe she knows what we could do.”

“Maisie, we killed her husband.”

I closed my eyes as I shook my head to push away the terrible thoughts of Briar dying. I tried to calm myself, but my breath was shaky. Joseph placed his hand on my knee, but I did not open my eyes to see his expression. Was he looking at me with sympathy or pity?

Downstairs, the door slammed shut. Miles’s footsteps were heavy as he walked up the stairs. He must have heard me sobbing because he moved faster down the hallway. I forced my eyes open, but my vision was blurry. I still could not convince myself to let go of Briar so I could wipe away the tears. Joseph pulled his hand off my knee and stood.

“Maisie,” Miles said. A subtle panicked edge was in his voice, but I could hear it. It was a crack in his usually emotionless facade. “What is wrong?”

I lifted my head to see him rushing over to me from the doorway. I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled Briar closer to my body. Feeling her squirm in my arms provided me with a sense of comfort. If I ever had to hold onto her lifeless body, I think my heart would stop beating and my soul would shatter. I would not be able to handle losing her.

Miles’s rough hand cupped the side of my face. He wiped the tears away from my cheeks and eyes. My vision was clear when I looked down at our daughter.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Briar.” My voice cracked, but I managed to keep speaking. “She’s sick.”

“Sick?” The panic was becoming clearer in his voice. “What kind of sick? She’s going to die?”

Miles crouched beside me as he reach forward for Briar. Despite all of our worries, she was smiling and throwing her hands in the air. Miles grabbed one of her hands, which looked so small in his hold. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was hard as he clenched his teeth.

“Her breathing is different,” I said.

“We are not going to panic,” Joseph said. “Nothing is going to happen to Briar. She is healthy.”

“How do you know that?” Miles asked. “What if she needs help?”

Joseph let out a deep breath. I glanced up to see he was chewing on his lip as he watched us. His fingers tapped against the side of his leg.

“What do you plan on doing?” Joseph asked, the question directed toward Miles. “If we tried to get medicine, we would not be able to afford it and it may not even make a difference. Besides, you are going to take Briar and Maisie out of the house? You are going to let someone near your daughter? Look at her. She is already better. There is nothing wrong with her breathing anymore.”

Miles’s muscles tensed. He did not let go of Briar’s hand, but her face did not contort in pain. There was no fear that he would tighten his grip enough to hurt her. I looked over at him to see that his blank expression had returned. His brows were no longer furrowed and his jaw was no longer clenched. Was he not concerned about our baby’s life?

“Miles,” I said. “She needs help. She needs a doctor.”

Briar made small cooing noises as she threw her hands in the air. Her smile remained, and bubbles of saliva were at the corner of her lips. The flare of her nostrils disappeared, and her breathing seemed to return to normal. Thousands of questions flooded my mind. What had happened? Was she sick? Would this happen again? Would she get worse?

“Let’s go to our room,” Miles said.

“Miles, she still needs help,” I said.

“She looks fine.”

“I am her Mother. I know she is sick.”

“You are also an emotional person.”

My heart felt like it had fallen into my stomach. How could Miles refuse to help our daughter? Did he think I was lying about the change in her breathing? Did he not see the change? Did he think I was being irrational? I looked up at Joseph to plead with him because he saw the change. He sat on the edge of his bed and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor.

“Joseph, you saw how she was breathing,” I said. “We need to get her help. We need to go to a doctor.”

Miles grabbed Briar from my arms before he stood. He shifted her weight so that he could hold her in one arm. He grabbed my bicep and pulled me onto my feet. When I tried to yank myself free, he tightened his grip. I could not risk fighting him because he was holding onto Briar. My heart pounded as he dragged me out of the room. I contorted my back so that I could look at Joseph, but he was still staring at the floor.

“Please,” I begged. “Joseph, you saw it! You saw that something is wrong. We need to help her.”

Miles dragged me out of Joseph’s room and down the hall. Tears rolled down my cheek as my body shook with fear. My daughter was sick, and they would not help. Joseph saw that she was sick, and he was convincing Miles I was being irrational. Why were they doing this?