I didn't have to guess who the piece had belonged to. John held such reverence and emotion for his wife and daughter alone. I saw the shift in his expression, the moment he lost control, and began crying, not wanting to witness what the man I had found a way to love had done a year before.
He grabbed Josie again. This time, he didn't hit her once, but over and over, even after she had fallen to the ground. He beat her stomach and face, shouting, rage on his face and controlling his actions.
Nell rushed into the room and tackled him.
He threw her off and turned on her, fist raised to crush her head the way he had his daughter's. Sobbing, Nell cowered and pointed.
John turned, and realization replaced his enraged trance. He looked over at the bloodied, battered, unrecognizable face of his daughter and dropped beside her. Horrified, he picked her up in his arms and began rocking, his lips forming her name over and over.
"Stop," I whispered. "Stop, stop, stop!" I clutched my stomach, the images nauseating me. John's unquestioning acceptance of me, of the three other girls who shared my room, became clear. Unable to live with what he'd done, he went mad trying to believe it didn't happen.
Was that why the room was recreated? To dispel the memories and start over? To give him hope and bury the past?
"Miss Josie." Nell's hushed whisper came from the doorway.
I looked up. The lanterns in the hallway were on, framing my nanny against them.
"Miss Josie. You shouldn't be in here." Her voice shook.
Nell knows. She had always known. I struggled to gain control of myself. Wiping away tears, I climbed to my feet despite the desire to curl up somewhere and sob.
First Carter. Now John. My faith in those I trusted was shattering.
"I'm sorry, Nell," I managed. "I have bad cramps."
Nell had no way of knowing about my empathic chip.
I continued to hold my stomach as I moved into the hallway and past her. I made my way slowly towards my room.
"Miss Josie."
"Yeah?"
"You didn't ask whose room this was."
I stopped, my instincts tingling. This time, the memories came from Nell.
While her master wept, she dragged the body down the hallway and out of the house, all the way around the property to the graveyard. She buried real-Josie in the moonlight and then collapsed onto the grave, weeping for the woman she loved as a daughter.
"It doesn't matter, Nell," I replied, pitying my governess. Retreating to my room, I leaned against the door.