2: 2
2.
"Rebecca, are you asleep?"
I checked the time. Almost half past eleven.
Taking care of a kid all day is exhausting. She might have turned in already.
Ten minutes later she wrote back: "Not yet. Chloe's running a fever again. Just got her down. What's wrong?"
I looked at my sleeping daughter, then crept quietly into the bathroom.
I turned the faucet all the way up and called Rebecca.
"Rebecca, can you talk right now? There's something I want to ask you."
She gave a short, low "Mm."
"Rebecca, did Great-Grandma Agnes ever look after Chloe for you?"
She paused. "I was swamped with work back then, and Sharon hadn't quit her job either. I was lucky to have Agnes there to help."
Something in my chest dropped.
"When she took care of Chloe, did she like to wear red?"
She thought for a moment. "Older folks wear a lot of red, don't they? Sharon said it was festive, even had me buy her several pieces."
*No wonder her daughter got that bad. The clothes the awful old woman wore were bought for her.*
It hit me all at once. A while back, Sharon kept pushing me to buy clothes for Agnes.
Said the old woman's birthday was coming up, so I bought several outfits.
Sharon didn't like any of the colors. She told me to get bright red ones, with longevity runes printed on them.
But I'd been buried in work and never found the right thing, so I let it slide.
"Did she like playing a clapping game with Chloe?"
My words came faster, my voice tightening with urgency.
Rebecca caught the change. A bed creaked, a door bumped softly.
She must have come out of the bedroom.
"Vivienne, what's going on? Why are you asking me this?"
"Rebecca, I can't explain it all right now, but really think back. This is important."
She was quiet for a beat, then said slowly, "I was pretty busy back then, but I remember Chloe telling me Great-Grandma Agnes liked to clap her hands."
I panicked harder, swallowing again and again.
"Rebecca, when Chloe was born, was she healthy?"
Her voice shifted. "Yeah. Full-term, six pounds twelve. Didn't get sick once before six months. But after she turned one..."
Her voice broke off, choked.
*The awful old woman drank up her daughter's luck for half a year. That she's still alive at all is pure luck.*
Rebecca had taken six months of maternity leave, caring for Chloe herself back then.
After that, Sharon was in and out of work, and it was Agnes who helped with the baby.
I fell silent, my mind racing.
"Vivienne, why are you suddenly asking all this? Is something wrong with Mia?"
I could hear the worry in her voice, and as a mother myself, it ached for her.
Then I heard Sharon's bedroom door.
"Rebecca, some things can't be explained over the phone. Whatever happens, bring Chloe to me tomorrow. There are things I need to confirm."
Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door.
I hung up.
