At the top of the stairs was another door that led into an impossibly tiny bedroom. The walls and floor were bare—just a series of exposed wooden boards—and Morgan guessed this room had originally been intended as a servant’s quarters. Furniture filled the space to capacity and all of it felt completely out of place in the ramshackle room. It was all too massive, too extravagant. A large, intricately carved four-poster bed took up most of the space and Morgan wondered how anyone had ever managed to get it up the stairs and through the door. There was a writing desk and a vanity, as well as several trunks piled anywhere they would fit, all open and overflowing with dresses, books, pillows, and even dishes.
Closing and locking the door behind them, the woman turned to Morgan. “We must be quiet, or they’ll hear us,” she said in a hushed voice.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asked quietly, her heart beating fast in her chest.
“My name is Margaret Bell,” the woman said. “I’m Henry’s first wife, but you probably already knew that.” Morgan nodded, still unsure why Margaret had brought her here. “And you are Morgan Loughlin,” she continued, “the girl who keeps stirring up trouble, sticking her nose into other people’s business and asking questions where she’s not welcomed.” If Morgan didn’t know better, she would have thought Margaret’s voice carried a hint of admiration.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Morgan explained. “I’m just trying to help a friend.”
Margaret nervously peered out the window before pulling the curtains closed. “I know who you’re trying to help, but you’re not going to get anywhere by talking to Henry.”
Margaret pulled a chair out from under the desk and placed it in what little floor space was still available, inviting Morgan to sit down before taking a seat herself at the foot of the bed.
“Who should I be talking to then?” Morgan asked, hoping the person was already sitting in front of her.
But Margaret was uneasy, wringing her hands and constantly checking the door. “Look, I’m not saying I can help, but if I did, could you promise me that everything said today would be kept confidential? Just between the two of us?”
“If you know something that can help Katherine, I’m not going to keep it to myself,” Morgan said. This must not have been the answer Margaret wanted to hear, because she immediately stood and started heading for the door. “But I can promise no one will know where the information came from,” Morgan quickly added. Margaret stopped and turned back. “I promise no one will know we talked,” Morgan reassured her.
Margaret nodded and sat back down. “You shouldn’t believe everything they’re saying about her,” she said, shifting anxiously. “Katherine’s a nice girl. She’s always been so kind to me. Not petty or competitive the way some wives are.”
Morgan listened patiently, waiting for the key piece of information she knew Margaret possessed but couldn’t yet bring herself to say.
“You don’t think Katherine cheated on Henry?” Morgan asked, gently nudging the conversation along.
“No, of course not,” Margaret said. “I hated her when she and Henry first got married. I know it sounds silly. I knew he was going to marry again eventually. I just thought we would have more time together, just the two of us. But that wasn’t Katherine’s fault. None of this was Katherine’s fault. I should have looked after her better, been kinder to her while she was here.” Putting her head in her hands, Margaret continued, “Henry has been different lately.”
“Different how?” asked Morgan. “Because he’s sick?”
“Not just that. He’s always so…agitated,” Margaret said softly. A floorboard creaked somewhere downstairs. Margaret whirled around to face the door. Her breath quickened, and she gripped the edge of her chair so tightly her knuckles began to turn white. The way Margaret twisted exposed several marks on the side and around the back of her neck that Morgan hadn’t noticed before—four distinct ovals, staggered and varying in size, They were slightly yellow and green, the color of a bruise that had begun to fade.
Morgan swallowed hard, her heart aching. “When did this start?”
“A couple of months ago, but it’s gotten worse the last few weeks,” Margaret said, her hands trembling as she carefully folded them in her lap. “He hasn’t been feeling well. The stress at work is getting to him, I think, and I just tend to make it worse. That’s why I spend most of my days up here now, so I don’t get in his way.”
Morgan looked around the tiny attic, imagining what it must be like to be stuck up here all day. Even though the two of them were alone, locked away where no one could hear or see them, Margaret still seemed afraid.
Reaching forward, Morgan held Margaret’s hands in hers. “Please, Margaret,” Morgan urged, “whatever it is you know, whatever you think could help Katherine, I need you to tell me. Maybe I could use it to help you too.”
Margaret shook her head slowly and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing you here. It probably won’t even help. I just can’t bear the thought of him getting away with it.”
“Getting away with what?” Morgan asked gently, careful not to push too hard.
“I was so jealous when Katherine announced she was pregnant. Henry and I have been trying since we got married, but it just wasn’t happening. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I thought I might finally be pregnant. I was ecstatic, I couldn’t wait to tell Henry.”
“Congratulations,” Morgan said, but Margaret was staring at the floor now, biting her lip as bitter tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Just a few days later, Henry came to me. He was upset, crying and shaking, but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. I begged him to talk to me, to let me know what I could do to help. He brought me a glass of what I thought was tea and told me that if I wanted to help him, then I needed to drink all of it. Right then, in front of him. No questions asked.” Margaret’s hands clenched into fists. “So I did.”
The medicine woman had said Henry Bell had been there to visit her and that he had bought…
“What did he make you drink?” Morgan asked, afraid she already knew the answer.
Margaret closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “I don’t know the exact name for it, but it tasted like death and made my insides feel like they were being torn apart. And then I started bleeding.”
“When did this happen?”
“Not long after he accused Katherine of being unfaithful and told her she either had to abort the pregnancy or get out.”
The sound of a horse’s whinny came from somewhere outside, and Margaret raced to the window and peeked out the curtains. A horse-drawn carriage waited in front of the cottage. A man climbed out and walked towards the front door.
“Henry’s father is here,” Margaret whispered. “It’s time for you to go.” Taking Morgan’s hand, she rushed her to the door.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Margaret said. “Walk around the back so they don’t see you.”
Morgan waited until Algernon Bell had stepped inside before running towards the main gate.
Charles had already found Katherine—both of them smiling as Charles timidly reached to tuck a lock of loose hair behind Katherine’s ear, his hand briefly lingering against her cheek as she looked into his eyes.
Morgan ran towards them, out of breath but bursting with new information.
“What did she tell you?” Charles asked, withdrawing his hand as Morgan approached.
“Just another string of unanswered questions,” Morgan said between breaths. “Right after Henry kicked Katherine out, he made Margaret take something that would cause a miscarriage.”
Katherine gasped and covered her mouth. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
“Why would he do that?” Charles said.
“I have no idea,” said Morgan. “None of this is adding up.”
“What do we do?” Katherine exclaimed. “We can’t just leave her there.”
“There
’s nothing we can do,” Morgan said. “Not until we figure out why Henry is doing this and make him stop.”
“At least we know one thing,” said Charles.
“What’s that?” Katherine asked.
“This isn’t about Katherine at all,” Charles said. “It’s about the baby.”
Charles was right. Henry had easily and quietly ended Margaret’s pregnancy, but Katherine was too far along. He would have needed a doctor to terminate it. That would raise a lot of questions he obviously didn’t want to answer, so he had tried to shame her into going along with it instead.
But if he didn’t want any children, why not take extra measures to keep his wives from getting pregnant in the first place? Or why not just end Katherine’s pregnancy earlier on like he did with Margaret instead of waiting six months? And why was he trying so hard to get rid of it now? None of it was making sense and Morgan’s head was beginning to spin as she churned this information over again and again.
“Something must have changed,” Morgan concluded.
“Like what?” said Charles.
“Well, there’s the obvious answer,” said Morgan. “The same thing that changed for all of us.” Turning to Katherine, Morgan asked, “Did Henry take the Fitness Evaluation this year?”
“Yes, of course,” Katherine said.
“When exactly?”
“Early. Eight, nine weeks ago, I think.”
“So over a month before he told you to get an abortion, right?” asked Morgan.
“Yes,” said Katherine.
“You think this has to do with the Genetic Fitness Evaluation?” asked Charles.
“The simplest answer is often the correct one,” said Morgan.
“I don’t think I’m following,” Katherine said.
“Think about it,” Morgan explained. “Henry takes the evaluation and then suddenly demands Katherine get an abortion? You saw him just now, Charlie. The man is obviously not well.”
“Just because he caught a cold doesn’t make the man unfit,” Charles said.
“No, Morgan might be onto something,” Katherine said. “He didn’t just get sick. He’s been unwell in one way or another for as long as I’ve known him. He tries to hide it when he has to go out in public, but he’s been getting worse the last few months.”
“And we all agreed that paternity tests were out of the question because the Bell family would just change the results,” Morgan said to Charles. “If a family has the influence and connections to tamper with the results of a paternity test, why stop there? Why not tamper with the Genetic Fitness Evaluation results as well?”
“Because that’s treason. There’s no way that even Henry Bell is that stupid,” Charles said.
“But he might be that desperate,” said Morgan.
“Even if he did tamper with his results, why would he still insist I get an abortion? Wouldn’t the main reason to change the results be so we could keep the baby?” asked Katherine.
“I don’t know,” Morgan confessed, her shoulders dropping. “If he is unfit, maybe he’s afraid of passing it on to the baby or something. Either way, we need to look at Henry Bell’s evaluation results.”
“Great,” Charles said, throwing his arms in the air. “Let’s just turn around and ask him for a peek. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help since he’s been so forthcoming so far.”
“I never suggested we ask him,” said Morgan. “There’s a copy of every citizen’s evaluation result stored at Loughlin Laboratories.”
“How do you get it?” Katherine asked.
“Are you serious?” Charles said. He looked up at the sky and laughed, running both hands through his hair before letting them fall dramatically to his side.
But neither Katherine nor Morgan were paying attention to him—or his exasperated tantrum. “This is where it becomes problematic,” Morgan said. “You can only request to see your own records, not someone else’s. And the results are locked away in the records room at the lab. Very few people are authorized to even go into that room.”
“Then that’s it,” Katherine said. “Another dead end.”
“Not exactly,” said Morgan. “Only a few people may have access, but security at the lab isn’t exactly as strict as everyone makes it out to be. The doctors leave their access cards lying around all the time. And I know my way around the laboratory from when I was volunteering there.”
“Just stop for a second,” Charles interrupted. “Before you go all cat burglar on us, have you considered that we already know someone who can legally access the records room? Can’t we just ask him to help?”
Of course, Morgan knew who Charles was referring to without him having to say another word. Their father, Dr. Arthur Loughlin.
But getting him on board would be a completely different complication.
“We’ve come this far,” Morgan shrugged. “I guess it’s at least worth a shot.”
The three made their way back to the apartment, strategizing the best way to approach their father and ask for his help. But, parked just outside the apartment building, was a large black carriage with the Loughlin family crest. They hurried up the stairs.
Their father sat on the bench in the center of the apartment, his fine suit and cane looking incredibly out of place amid a mess that closely resembled a ransacked library.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Father,” Morgan said. She didn’t know what she was going to say yet but had faith she would figure it out as she went. “There’s something we have to tell you.”
“Actually,” her father said, holding up his hand to silence Morgan. “I’m here to talk to you.” Eyeing Charles and Katherine, he added, “Alone.”
“We’ll wait outside,” Charles said, and he and Katherine left the apartment, closing the door behind them.
“Can I get you anything?” Morgan asked, desperately trying to clear away as many books and loose papers as she could carry. “Some water, or maybe some tea, perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” he replied. “I’m worried about you, Morgan.”
“Why?” Morgan said. She abandoned her futile attempt to tidy up and sat at the edge of the bed, facing her father.
“I spoke to your teachers at the university. They say you haven’t been to class in weeks,” he said.
Morgan had completely forgotten about her classes. Normally, just the thought of underperforming, let alone failing—which she undoubtedly was by now—would have been enough to give her an anxiety attack, but it all seemed so trivial in comparison to everything else going on in her life.
“But that doesn’t worry me nearly as much as the company you’ve been keeping lately.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Morgan said. “I spend most of my days with Charles.”
“And Katherine Bell.”
Morgan’s heart jumped. “She’s actually the reason I need to talk to you.”
Her father cut her off. “And is this friend also the reason you’ve been harassing the Bell family?” he asked.
“I am not harassing anyone, I was simply—” Morgan began, ready to defend herself, but stopped. He had obviously already heard the Bell’s side of the story, so Morgan decided to speak candidly. “There’s something going on there, Father. Henry, his mother, and his father are all acting very strange. They’re nervous about something and I suspect they’re not only lying about Katherine, but they’re lying about Henry’s condition, as well. He’s sick all of the time.” She paused, swallowing hard, fortifying herself. “I think he may have failed his evaluation and they’re trying to cover it up.”
He stared at Morgan. No, not at Morgan—past Morgan. His face as still and inscrutable as stone.
“That’s quite the story you’ve invented,” he finally said.
Morgan’s heart felt as if it had dropped into her stomach. “You don’t believe me?”
“I think I know what’s happening here,” he said. “You’re projecting your own frustrations with John onto this poor gir
l. There are no conspiracies, Morgan. No one is out to get you or Katherine. As much as it hurts, you just have to let it go and accept that you can’t help everyone. John and Katherine both have to accept the consequences of their mistakes.”
“What mistakes?” said Morgan. “John didn’t do anything except fail some blood test and Katherine was never unfaithful to Henry.”
“Is that what she told you?”
“Yes,” replied Morgan.
“And you believed her?” he said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Yes!” Morgan reiterated, more fervently this time.
Her father stood, towering over Morgan. “I think it’s time you came home.”
“What?” said Morgan.
“I supported you when you decided to stay in Southend. I thought a couple of days away would be good for you, give you a chance to see just how unbearable living here would be.” He looked around the apartment contemptuously. “But this has gone too far. I can’t support you fraternizing with adulterers and unfits. Did you know that John was transferred to the terminal ward?”
Morgan’s breath caught in her throat as her entire body began to tense up. “What? How did you know?” she whispered.
“So you did know. Were you ever planning on telling the rest of us? Or did you think we wouldn’t notice in a few months when he just didn’t come back?”
“I just…” Morgan’s mind raced as she tried to think of a response. She and John honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I just wasn’t ready to tell the family yet. I needed time to process everything,” she stammered, hoping that despite her shaking voice she still sounded convincing enough.
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