***

A short knock on the door made me jump. The flame of the candle swung, drawing terrible moving shadows on the walls. I did not turn on the overhead light, getting ready for bed, and then I got carried away reading and did not notice how completely dark it was.

Was the father drunk again? Previously, this almost never happened, but because of everything that fell upon our family, he began to break down. He mostly drank at night, when the house was plunged into darkness, and thoughts and sorrows were especially strong. I shuddered involuntarily, imagining yet another scandal. Gossip, newspapers, even photography... This has been harassing us so far. Someone deliberately fomented the conflict, provoked the nerves, did not let people forget. The hype was only now gradually beginning to subside, and for this the parents had to make a lot of efforts. And I'm partly to blame myself. Was at the wrong time, in the wrong place. And this guilt ate at my heart.

The knock was repeated. I quickly got up and silently approached the door. I listened. Silence. OK. She cautiously opened the door, cautiously stepping aside.

“Hello,” my mother greeted in a barely audible voice, and entered the room.

She briefly but tenaciously examined me from head to toe and looked away. Yes, she was embarrassed to look at her eldest daughter. Pale, emaciated. This only made it worse for me, because my mother was too worried, and I did not want her to suffer. She didn’t want anyone, except for the man who caused it all to begin.

"Hi Mom," I greeted softly.

Mom closed the door and stood next to me. I wrapped my arms around myself. Not from the cold. I would like to hug my mother, but I still remembered how that evening when I returned home, she did not dare to comfort me. Or didn't you want to? And later she didn't either. At first I thought it was because of my father's anger. But after that, the confidence began to grow in me that she was simply ashamed of me.

“Soon a gentleman will come to us. He wanted to talk about the engagement,” Mom said, and looked away again.

It was only now that I realized that she was excited. So. What other engagement?

“But it’s still too early for girls to get married. Why such a hurry? It's because of me? – I said, also starting to get nervous.

"He's coming for you," she said firmly, finally looking directly at me. - Behind you, Amy.

The heart sank into the heels. Is this some kind of bad joke?

“Amy, this is our chance,” Mom whispered softly. - An influential gentleman. Rich. With him, everyone will quickly forget about ... - she stopped, cast a guilty look. — Hmmm. About the incident. I'm begging you, daughter. Do your best. For us. For the sisters. Otherwise, they will have to forget about a good couple. The reputation of the family... It's not for me to explain to you.

- Yes mom. I understood. I know,” she interrupted her speech, already realizing that I had no choice and never would.

Mom took a step towards me, pity flickered in her eyes. She squeezed my hand, froze for a couple of moments. Her hand, so warm, a little rough. I missed this so much! I wanted to press her to my cheek. But the touch lasted only a moment.

“I know you can handle it, dear,” Mom said confidently, and left without even saying goodbye or saying good night.

On stiff legs, I walked across the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed. I smoothed out the dress on my knees, in order to somehow contain the despair rushing out, overtaking me. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, but it did not drown out his thoughts. A man is coming for me. Groom. I wonder if he already knows who I am? And if so, why do I need him? No normal man would want to have a wife like me, knowing the details of my shame. Although. Pictures, one scarier than the other, succeeded each other in my imagination. Why does he need a married wife? To mock? Quite possible. I won't be surprised anymore. Absolutely. Hot tears welled up in my eyes, stinging, making me blink more often. I wasn't ready for this at all. Not for a meeting, not for a conversation. Especially for marriage. It won't be long before I can learn to trust people again. If ever I can.

The time when I dreamed of marrying the person I loved as soon as possible now seemed to be something far away. Naive childish reflections, pipe dreams. The reality was frightening and terribly sobering. In life, everything is not like in the beautiful fairy tales that we excitedly read with the sisters. Not at all. The time before seemed to me bright, in shades of pink. It smelled of flowers, hot buns, and freshly cut grass. It sounded like light music, interspersed with the voices of birds and the noise of foliage. Everything was so alive, to the point of impossibility. Now there is silence around me. Vacuum. And I was out of breath.

No more illusions.

She took a deep breath, as if she really couldn't breathe. I caught myself biting my fingernail. How scary is the upcoming meeting!

I was exhausted overnight. She didn’t sleep well, tossed and turned, cried, got angry. I skipped breakfast in the morning. At lunch, I drank an herbal decoction with difficulty and ate half a cinnamon bagel. And no one came to see me. And no one said exactly when my new fiancé would arrive.

***

I spent the rest of the day in confusion. I couldn't concentrate on reading. I poked my finger with a needle several times while trying to embroider an ornate floral pattern on a pillowcase. Even the cards, and those did not give in, but like my hopes they scattered like thin cardboard boxes on the table and floor. I wasn't ready for guests. Not yet. But I have to force myself. Tune in. I have to make amends to my family, no matter what the cost. The girls don't have to suffer because of me. They deserve a better life. And the groom… I hoped with all my heart that I had made hasty conclusions, and this man would turn out to be decent, honest and with a good heart.

In the evening, my father sent a maid to fetch me. He deigned to invite me to dinner at a common table. I'm so used to family gatherings. Sometimes I missed them, but I understood that it would never be the same as before. At first, my father did not call me. Then I, filled with resentment and anger, furious indignation, did not accept invitations and simply defiantly slammed the door, as soon as the maid hinted about it. And then, when dad stopped trying, and I calmed down, it seemed strange just to pretend that nothing had happened. So I didn't even try.

Before dinner, I was even more worried. It made me shiver, then threw me into a fever. I needed to calm down. To distract myself, I wanted to start packing. After all, it looks like it's about time. But it turned out to be too hard and I decided to postpone this lesson until later. Even if the meeting with the groom goes well, then there will still have to be time to say goodbye to the house, relatives. Prepare mentally for a life together with a stranger ... How terrible! In the depths of my soul, I dreamed that he would not come. I didn't want to let anyone close to me. And knowing my story, the future spouse will definitely not stand on ceremony.

But my family... I have to think about them. But who will think of me?

“Amy, we need to talk,” my father began, putting down his fork and knife.

It became stuffy in the spacious dining room. Or maybe it was fear with bony fingers squeezing my throat, not letting air into my lungs. Loya and Heli looked at each other. The twins are three years younger than me. But they are almost identical to each other. Neither outwardly nor in character. My dear.

Everyone was silent from the start of dinner. All that could be heard was the clinking of crockery and cutlery, the measured ticking of a large clock, and the footsteps of servants. I had a hard time making myself eat. Because of the excitement, even the taste of food was almost not felt. Mom looked at me, then at dad. Nervously fiddling with a lace-embroidered napkin. I tried to control myself. She pretended everything was fine.

“Yes, father,” I answered quietly, mentally agreeing in advance with everything he would say.

We are expecting a guest tomorrow for dinner. The other day I received a letter from him with a proposal for a meeting. He said that he was interested in you and would like to discuss the details of the engagement.

The girls gasped out loud. I just nodded and lowered my head. Mom sighed heavily. Our family has never had such a tense atmosphere. Dad was always reserved, but kind to us. Now there was an aloofness in his voice and eyes. And that official tone... I knew it was my fault. But his attitude was still too hurtful.

- Understood. I’ll be ready,” I answered meekly and raised my head.

My father looked at me sternly. The look made me want to shrink, but I continued to sit up straight. She just lowered her head a little. She calmed her rapid breathing.

- No tricks. Our family's reputation has been shattered. We needed to disgrace ourselves even more,” he said more desperately than angrily.

"Daddy," I couldn't help myself this time. “Did I ever let you down before that incident?” Did you give me reason to doubt me? I have always tried to be a good daughter. I beg you, do not delete me from the life of the family ahead of time. You know I would never intentionally hurt us...

- All. Stop that. Enough! Father's voice jumped up. - Go to your place.

I stood up, almost knocking over my plate, and quickly walked to my hiding place. Already at the door of the dining room I heard his words:

“I would never have done this to you before. But, Amy, the circumstances are compelling. And you know it.

My heart sank painfully. She slowed down for a second, threw "I know" over her shoulder and rushed to her.

Without lighting the candles, she fell on the bed, face down, and screamed into the pillow. It has been the most difficult evening in recent months. They won't forgive me. Never. Will always remember my mistake. But damn it, it's not my fault!

But no one wanted to hear me.

Dad's last words echoed in his mind. What did he want to say? My fiancé seems to be a very unenviable candidate. Not financially, but as a person. But this was not surprising. Or did I think it over again and there was no hidden meaning in the words of my father?

I rolled over onto my side. Wiped tears from her face. Outside the window, the purple twilight was rapidly gathering. The room was plunging into darkness, and I was increasingly drawn to despair.