Bethina unpacked a little, then sat in an overstuffed chair to rest. She remembered when she'd first started to work there. It had been two years ago, starting her sophomore year of high school. Her father had been killed in the war, and her mother hadn't remarried. As a widow, there wasn't a lot of money, especially at Christmas, so that year so Bethina had decided to get a job to help out.
The post office bulletin board had several advertisements tacked to it, including one that had been there for weeks: an advertisement for a nanny. The address was unfamiliar, so she'd copied it down and asked the post master. He'd blinked a few times, then said slowly, "It's that old plantation outside of town. I don't think you want to go there."
When she'd asked why, he'd simply told her that the
