Jonas opened the bedroom door and saw nothing. Mariah stood by his side, holding onto his arm, although he had just told her to wait in the bedroom.
“No, Jonas, I’m coming with you,” she said breathlessly. “Jemima might be hurt.”
“Very well,” he said as he turned on the flashlight that he held in his hand. The light tunneled through the dark hallway. He thought he saw something move toward the staircase, and then they both heard someone pounding on the front door.
“Jemima,” said Jonas and they both moved swiftly toward the dark staircase. Mariah hesitated at the top of the stairs while Jonas threw the light down toward the front door. They saw Jemima slowly dropped to the floor, defeated by the deadbolt. She leaned against the door and sobbed. Mariah ran down the staircase ahead of Jonas and gathered Jemima into her arms.
Mariah cradled her, trying to reassure the trembling girl that everything was all right, that she was safe with them. Jonas stood beside them, drawing the light about the room. There was nothing, yet he felt an awful chill, as if a door or window had been left open. But he knew that was impossible. He had checked every door and window before going to bed. He always did.
He knelt down in front of Mariah and gently moved Jemima from the warmth of Mariah’s arms.
“Jemima, what happened,” he asked, brushing her dark hair from her face. “Did you have a nightmare? What frightened you so?”
Jemima looked up into Jonas’s eyes. He looked truly worried about her, as did Mariah. She wanted to tell them what had happened, how Hannah had come to her room, how her dead sister had tried to make Jemima help her kill them, how Hannah had also planned to kill her. She wanted to tell them everything, but she felt something odd about her person. She moved away from Mariah and allowed Jonas to help her stand up. She looked down at her nightgown. It was dry and it was still white.
“Jemima, dear,” Mariah said as she put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Was it a bad dream? Do you want to talk about it?”
Jemima closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She wanted so much to tell them, but she couldn’t. They couldn’t possibly believe her when she had no proof of Hannah’s visitation. Her nightgown was undisturbed except for the wrinkles from her own struggles. She recalled how Jonas had convinced everyone that she and Hannah had seen nothing in the master bedroom, how they had overactive imaginations. For the first time, she was glad that Jonas had might light of their fright.
“Yes,” she said faintly. “It was an awful, awful nightmare. I can’t talk about it now. Perhaps in the morning.”
“Very well, dear child,” said Mariah soothingly. She gently rubbed the girl’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should just all go back to bed now.”
Jemima suddenly pulled herself away and grabbed the knob of the front door.
“I don’t want to go back to my room! I don’t want to be alone!” Jemima started to cry, terrified that Hannah would come back for her. “Please,” she begged the Buckthorns. “Please don’t make me go back up there.”
Jonas and Mariah looked at each other with wonder at Jemima’s behavior. Without speaking, Jonas nodded to Mariah.
“Jemima,” Mariah said softly. She again embraced the trembling girl. “You can sleep with me in the master bedroom tonight. Will that make you feel safe?”
Jemima stopped crying and looked over at Jonas.
“I’d like that,” she said, brushing a sleeve across her face. “But, pray, sir, where will you sleep?”
Jonas smiled. “There are any number of bedrooms for me to choose,” he said, knowing full well that he would not get any more sleep that night, not until he knew exactly what had happened to so frighten Jemima.
“Oh, yes,” Jemima said shyly. “Thank you so much.”
Jemima made no move to leave the front door. She seemed to be hesitating, as if she had more to say. Mariah and Jonas waited patiently, not wanting to distress the girl any more than she already had been.
“I don’t mean to be rude. You both have been so wonderful to me,” she finally began. She couldn’t bring herself to look at them, and let her hair fall across her face. “I’ll be forever grateful for all the kindness you’ve shown me . . . but . . ..” She stammered and then swallowed hard. “May I please return to my family tomorrow?” Her voice cracked as she tried to keep from crying again.
Mariah and Jonas again looked at each other in wonder, and again Jonas nodded at Mariah.
“Dear Jemima,” she said as she kissed the girl’s hair. “You may go home whenever you like. It’s entirely up to you. We only want you to be happy.”
Jemima leaned into Mariah and let the woman fully embrace her.
Jonas escorted them to the bedroom. He watched Mariah help Jemima into the large, soft bed, the small girl almost swallowed up by the pillows and comforter. Mariah came to his side to wish him a good night.
“May you both sleep soundly and wake refreshed in the morning,” he told his wife and then kissed her forehead. They both turned to look at Jemima, who, it appeared, was already asleep.
Jonas took his leave and closed the bedroom door. He had decided to sleep in the bedroom next door, but first he needed to find out what had happened. He didn’t believe that Jemima merely had a nightmare. She had shown herself to be a sound sleeper during her stay with them, never once complaining of wakefulness or bad dreams. Something had happened to her, and he was determined to find out what it was.
