Fallen Beauty by Erika Robuck

trials on earth. I wished I could pray to them for advice and guidance, but my shame prevented me.
    I climbed the stairs as quietly as I could so as not to wake Marie, but there was no need. I peered in and saw that she lay with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
    “Do you remember the girl Jane who was in the upper school when we were in the eighth grade?” she asked. “Do you remember how Jane became pregnant and wouldn’t tell who the father was, and was sent away?”
    I walked to my bed, took off my shoes and wet clothing, and crawled under the covers wearing only a slip.
    “Jane never came back,” said Marie. “And her parents—they owned the feed shop. They went out of business and left. You remember. I know you do.”
    In truth, I hadn’t thought of them until Marie brought them up, but I could hear the fear in her voice.
    “You must give up the child—somehow,” she said.
    “You needn’t worry,” I said. “Everette will take care of you. I’ll manage on my own.”
    “But what if you don’t?” she said. “This town is small. If you don’t have their approval, you have nothing. Everette always says that.”
    “Are you sure it’s me you’re worried about?” I said, an edge of cruelty I could not hide creeping into my voice. If she hadn’t brought up Everette, I might have thought her motives were pure, but now I suspected she was more concerned that her fiancé might be tainted by the scandal of his future wife’s sister. “Don’t worry, Marie. You don’t have to associate with me anymore, if I embarrass you.”
    I turned my back to her, and within moments, she crawled into my bed and burrowed into me. I kept my arms crossed rigidly in front of myself.
    “I’m just so scared,” she said. “For both of us. We are orphaned. I’m about to leave you. And now this? How will you support yourself?”
    “I’m quite capable,” I said. “Just worry about your trousseau and your new duties as a political wife. That will keep you busy.”
    “That’s not fair.”
    “I’m beginning to see that nothing is,” I said, hating myself for my nastiness directed at the only person I had left in the world, but unable to control my tongue. “But all is well for you and has been since you met Everette. You haven’t had a care for another since, and you’ll be more distracted once you’re living under his roof. You won’t even have to pretend we’re related if you don’t want to.”
    “Stop it,” she cried. “How can you say such things? I would never abandon you.”
    My ugly resolve crumbled and I began to cry. She turned me toward her, and we embraced.
    “Did this happen the night you snuck out?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    I had to tell her something, so I began my story. Speaking about the pain made it hurt less and knit us closer together. While keeping my lover masked, I told her the details of the night at the Follies, even the most intimate. She confessed that she and Everette had almost consummated their relationship, but were able to hold out, knowing the wedding was coming.
    After we had exhausted ourselves, we fell asleep together, forehead to forehead, until the front bell rang the next morning. Marie climbed out of bed and pulled on a dress to answer the door. I rolled over and pretended to sleep. Everette’s voice rose up the staircase. He’d been up all night waiting to ask us about the play. Marie’s voice dropped, and I imagined her telling him about me. My heart pounded as I realized that the scandal that had been circling like a wolf was about to be unleashed.
    •   •   •
    VINCENT
    I ride to town, reluctantly, but Eugen says I must get out. He has made an appointment with the oculist to see if he can help with my headaches and the spots in my vision. I know there is no specific medical cause, but rather, my acute artistic sensitivity, but I humor the man who so wishes to make me better.
    Eugen slows the car as we pass the church. A