Coal River Read Online Free PDF

leg brace. Do you know what happened to them?”
    Aunt Ida stopped on the stairwell again. She put a hand over her brooch. “Oh dear,” she said. “You mean those poor breaker boys?”
    “Breaker boys? Who are they?”
    Aunt Ida held up a finger, indicating that Emma should stop speaking. “Please,” she said. “It’s much too depressing for me to talk about right now. We’ve had enough sorrow for one day, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Emma said.
    Her aunt continued climbing the stairwell, wheezing with the effort. Then she smiled, her mood suddenly turning. “As I was saying, the room where you and Albert stayed last time has been converted into a sewing room. And Maggie is the most fabulous seamstress. Wait until you see the beautiful dresses she makes for me! Anyway, there’s no longer enough room for you in the main part of the house.”
    “That’s fine,” Emma said. “I don’t need much.”
    In truth, Emma was relieved. The bedroom she had shared with Albert would be filled with memories of playing hide-and-seek in closets and beneath beds, peeking out the windows to spy on Percy when he was being tutored in the backyard, competing at Pick-Up Sticks and Twenty Questions when Uncle Otis locked them in their room during dinner parties. It would be too hard to stay in there.
    At the top of the steps, Aunt Ida led her down a narrow, whitewashed hall and stopped in front of a squat door. She paused, trying to catch her breath, then said, “Most of the help has been let go because we just can’t find good people anymore.” She pointed toward the end of the hall. “The water closet is down there. Now, mind you, you’ll have to share it with Maggie and Cook, but it should be sufficient.” She pulled a ring of keys from her apron pocket and unlocked the door. “I’m certain you’ll have all the space you need right here.”
    Inside the narrow room, a single bed with an iron headboard sat pushed against one wall, the mattress covered with a brown wool blanket. Opposite the bed, a six-paned window overlooked the side yard. There was a wooden washstand, a blue dresser, a spindle-back chair, and a green threadbare rug covering half the plank floor. Yellow wallpaper with tiny roses covered the back wall. The other walls had been painted white.
    Emma forced a smile. “It’s perfect,” she said.
    “I’m delighted you think so,” Aunt Ida said. “I was so afraid you’d be upset because you’re not in the main house with us.”
    “Not at all. It’s bigger than my bedroom was back in Manhattan.” Emma set down her suitcase, unpinned her hat, and laid it and her purse on the bed. “But if you don’t mind, the train ride was exhausting. I could use a little rest.”
    “Right now?” Aunt Ida said, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something rotten. “But your uncle will be expecting you at dinner! You know how he gets when—”
    “I’m sorry,” Emma said. “You’re right. I’ll freshen up a bit, then I’ll be right down.”
    Aunt Ida tented her hands beneath her chin as if praying, and shook them. “It’s for the best,” she said. “We have a lot to talk about, Emma. This is your home now, and your uncle has certain rules and expectations. You don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”
    “Of course not,” Emma said. Nerves prickled the skin around her lips. She gripped the door handle and started closing the door, ushering Aunt Ida backward into the hall.
    “Twenty minutes,” Aunt Ida said. “No longer.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Remember what your uncle always says,” Aunt Ida said. “Clocks were made for a reason!”
    “Yes, Aunt Ida. I remember.”
    The door clicked shut, and Emma took a step back, staring at the white knob, trying to keep her wits about her. It was no use. Panic clawed at her insides like a cat inside a sack. With shaking hands, she tore open her drawstring purse, yanked out the mourning veil, and grabbed the glass vial. She pulled out the