Jessica muttered to herself as she paced the floor of her kitchen. She’d closed all the curtains, wanting privacy for whatever happened tonight, but the last rays of the sun still glowed through the worn blue material that covered the kitchen window. She’d told him to come after sundown, and it was nearly that. But she’d done it all so thoughtlessly. She’d dropped her letter and run like a coward, and now she had no idea if Caleb had even seen it. What if the cook had picked it up instead? What if she’d shown it to her friends, who would spread news of the invitation all over town? What if she’d shown it to Theodore Durst? Horror swept through Jessica on a wave of nausea. No. That couldn’t happen. She couldn’t bear it. Either Caleb would come tonight or he wouldn’t. That was the only uncertainty she needed to consider. Everyone in town already knew what she was. They couldn’t know it any harder, no matter how many letters she wrote.
