“You could have killed her.” His eyes blazed as he spoke hoarsely from his own emotions.

“But I didn't, did I? Perhaps I should have. Most of our problems are thanks to her. If I didn't care about you so much, I wouldn't be as angry at her. None of this would have happened if she hadn't come between us, if you hadn't been as besotted with her as you are.” It was obvious as he watched her that she believed that, that in some twisted part of her mind, she had convinced herself that Gabriella was to blame, and deserved everything they'd done to her ever since. It would have been impossible to make her see the insanity of what she was saying, and he knew that now.

“She has nothing to do with what happened between us, Eloise. You're a monster. You're insanely jealous, and you hate that little girl. Blame me, for God's sake, don't blame her. Hate me if you have to, because I failed you, because I've been unfaithful to you, because I'm not strong enough to give you what you want… but please… please…” He started to cry, pleading with her to hear the truth of his words. “Don't blame her.”

“Can't you see what she's done to us? She turned you around completely. You loved me before she was born. We loved each other… now look at us…” There were tears in her eyes for the first time in years as she looked at him. “She did this…” She even blamed Gabriella for the fact that he was in love with another woman. As far as Eloise was concerned, Gabriella was responsible for it all.

“You did it,” he accused her, unmoved by her tears. “I stopped loving you when I realized how much you hated her, when I saw how you beat her… and, oh God, one day she will hate us for what we did to her.”

“She deserves it.” Eloise retreated to her earlier stance, convinced of the wisdom of her words. “I don't care what I did to her. She cost me everything… cost us our marriage and our love…”

“You hated her from the day she was born. How could you?”

“I could see what was coming even then.”

“You have to stop, Eloise, before you kill her,” he implored her. “You have to… You'll spend the rest of your life in jail.”

“She's not worth it,” Eloise said firmly. She had thought about it before, and she was careful never to go too far, for her own sake, not for the child's. But the night before, she had come dangerously close. He understood that better than she did. He had seen Gabriella in the hospital, and heard what the doctors said. No one had accused him of beating her, fortunately. It would have been inconceivable to them, particularly given his good manners, respectable name, and expensive address. Asking him a question like that would have been offensive, and even if they suspected it, which he hoped not, they wouldn't have dared to accuse him of abusing his child.

“I wont kill her, John,” Eloise reassured him, but it was an empty promise from a woman with no soul. “I don't have to. She knows what I expect of her. She knows the difference between right and wrong.”

“The trouble is, you don't.”

“I'm tired,” she stood up then, “and you're boring me. Are you going up to bed, or are you going back to your little harlot? And when is that going to end?” Never, he promised himself. Never in a thousand years. He was never coming back to this woman. But he knew he had to be here now, to calm her down again, until Gabriella came home. No matter how much he hated her, he knew he owed that much to Gabriella. He couldn't give up the rest of his life for her, but he could smooth things over for her, at least until she came home.

“I'll go up in a while,” he said calmly, pouring himself one last drink. He was grateful they had separate bedrooms. He would have been afraid to sleep in the same bed with her now, for fear that she might kill him. Knowing what she was capable of terrified him. He had warned Barbara of that, and tried to tell her how dangerous Eloise was. But Barbara foolishly insisted she wasn't afraid of her. She couldn't conceive of the monster she truly was. No one could. Except he, and Gabriella, who knew it only too well.

“I assume you're sleeping in your own room tonight,” she said as she walked out of the room, and he watched the train on her evening gown trailing behind her. But he didn't answer her, he was thinking of Gabriella again, and he didn't have the strength to say another word. He just watched her as she walked slowly up the stairs.

When Gabriella woke up in the hospital that night, she had no idea where she was. Everything was white and clean and looked very stark. There were shadows on the ceiling, and a small light in the corner of the room. A nurse in a starched cap was looking down at her, and as soon as Gabriella's eyes fluttered open, the young woman smiled at her. It was an unfamiliar sight to Gabriella. The nurse's eyes looked very kind.

“Am I in heaven?” she asked softly, convinced, and relieved to think, that she had died.

“No, you're at St. Matthew's Hospital, Gabriella. And everything is fine. Your daddy went home a while ago, but he said he'd come back tomorrow to see how you are.”

She wanted to ask if her mother was angry at her for being here, and if she ever had to go back there again. If she never got well again, couldn't she just stay? There were a thousand questions in her head, but she was afraid to do anything more than nod, and when she did, it hurt. A lot.

“Try not to move around too much.” The young nurse had seen her wince. She knew the concussion was giving her a severe headache, and there was still blood draining from her ear. “Your daddy said you fell down the stairs, and you're a very lucky girl that he found you when he did. We're going to take good care of you while you're here.” Despite the pain, Gabriella nodded gratefully again, and closed her eyes.

She cried in her sleep after that, the shifts changed, and an older nurse came to watch over her for several hours. She checked her vital signs and changed the dressing on the wound on her leg. She stood and stared at it for a long time, and then back at the little girl's face. There were questions in the nurse's mind that she knew would never be answered, questions that should have been asked, but no one would have dared. She had seen injuries like this before on children, but usually children with wounds like these were poor. They went home anyway, just as this one would. And most of the time, they came back again. She wondered if Gabriella would too, or perhaps they had frightened themselves enough this time, and it wouldn't happen again. It was hard to say.

Gabriella slept fitfully till morning, and most of the time for the next few days. Her father came to see her twice, and explained to the doctors and the nurses that her mother wasn't able to come because she was ill. They understood and sympathized with him, and complimented him on his little girl. She was so good, so sweet, so well behaved. She never gave them any trouble, never asked for anything, and was grateful for everything they did. She never even spoke to them. She just lay there, watching, but she smiled whenever she saw him.

He came to take her home on New Year's Day, and brought some clothes for her to wear. She left the hospital in a navy coat, a gray wool dress, white knee socks, and red shoes. He had forgotten to bring her hat and gloves, and she looked so small and pale when she left the hospital after thanking everyone for how nice they'd been to her. And just before the elevator doors closed, she smiled and waved. They all agreed on what a nice child she was, and were sorry there weren't more like her. She had even told them the night before that she was sorry to be going home.

“That's a first!” one of the nurses said with a grin as she hurried off to take care of a child with whooping cough, and another with severe burns. Gabriella had been the darling of the pediatric ward, and they were sorry she was leaving too. But not nearly as sorry as Gabriella was herself. She hated leaving their safe haven, and returning to her life in hell.

Her mother was waiting for her when she got home, frowning darkly, with eyes filled with accusation. She had never gone to the hospital to see her, and had told John repeatedly that all that pampering was unnecessary and an outright disgrace. He didn't argue with her, but anyone could have seen how pale Gabriella was when he brought her home, and from the damage to her ear, she was still a little unsteady on her feet.

“Well, did you get enough attention playing sick for all the nurses and doctors?” Eloise asked unkindly as John went to Gabriella's room to drop off her things and turn her bed down for her. The doctor had told him she should rest.

“I'm sorry, Mommy.”

“You should be. Whining little brat,” she said, and then turned on her heel and disappeared.

Gabriella had dinner with both her parents that night, and predictably it was a silent and awkward ordeal. Her mother was clearly angry at her, and her father was lost in another world, and had had too much to drink by the time they sat down to eat. Gabriella spilled some water on the table, and her hands shook as she quickly mopped it up.

‘Your table manners haven't improved in the last week. What did they do, feed you?” Eloise asked meanly, and Gabriella lowered her eyes, and thought it best not to speak. She never said a word during the entire meal. And as soon as she'd eaten the last bite of her dessert, her mother ordered her to her room. Gabriella could sense that a battle was brewing and it was a relief to leave.

She got into her bed immediately, and listened in the dark as her parents argued, and it was no surprise when she heard footsteps in her room late that night. She was sure it was her mother, and braced herself for what was to come. This time the covers were peeled back slowly, and she tensed her entire body and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the first familiar blow to strike her. But for a long moment, there was none. She could feel someone standing over her, but she couldn't smell her perfume, there was no sound, and nothing happened. After waiting an interminable moment she couldn't stand the suspense and opened her eyes.

“Hi… were you sleeping?…” It was her father, he was whispering, and all she could smell now was the whiskey on his breath. “I came to say… to see… if you were all right.” She nodded, confused. He never came into her room like that.

“Where's Mommy?”

“Asleep.” She exhaled slowly at the news, deeply relieved, although they both knew it wouldn't take much to wake her. “I just wanted to see you…” He sat down gently on the bed. “I'm sorry… about the hospital… and everything… The nurses said you were very brave…” But he already knew better than anyone how brave she was, far braver than he was.

“They were nice,” she whispered, watching his face in the darkness. She could see him clearly now in the moonlight from her window.

“How do you feel?”

“Okay… my ear still hurts… but I'm fine…” The headache had been gone for the past two days, and her ribs were still taped, as they would be for the next two weeks.

“Take care of yourself, Gabriella… always be brave, you're very strong.” She wondered why he said that to her, what he was really trying to say. And she couldn't help asking herself why he thought she was strong. She didn't feel it. Most of the time, she just thought about how bad she was.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he didn't know what to say. And even he knew that if he had loved her, truly, he wouldn't have let her mother beat her to within an inch of her life. But Gabriella had no idea what was on his mind. He stood there looking at her for another moment, and then pulled the covers up around her again, and left her, without saying another word.

He paused in the doorway for just the fraction of an instant, as she watched him, and then closed the door as softly as he could. Neither of them wanted to wake her mother, and he was so quiet, she couldn't even hear him tiptoe away. She burrowed down in the bed again after that, and she was still asleep the next day when her mother threw open the door to her room, and shouted at her.

“Get out of there!” the familiar voice screamed at her, as Gabriella bounded out of bed still half asleep. Her rapid movements brought the headache back instantly, challenged her ribs, and caused her to lurch a bit from the damage to her ear. “You knew, you little bitch, didn't you! Did he tell you? Did he?” She was shaking Gabriella by both arms by then, with total disregard for where she'd been for the past week, or the injuries that had caused her to be there.

“Know what? I don't know anything, Mommy…” She was out of practice suddenly, and in spite of herself began to cry. She knew from her mother's face that something terrible had happened, but she couldn't begin to imagine what it was. For the first time Gabriella could remember, her mother looked frantic and disheveled.