She hadn’t yet finished reading the journal, and tomorrow she would be on a train back to New York with her father. Then she’d have to return the book to Jon. Lighting a candle on the nightstand, she pulled the trunk from under her bed and removed the journal, deciding to finish reading it tonight. She climbed back into bed, pulling the covers high, and began to read. December 5, 1815. Any day my child will be born. I have felt a few pains over the past days. As thou seest, my handwriting is somewhat shaky. I am weak and alone. But I am not afraid. This is a challenge from God, and I will meet it. Ruth said she would look in on me from time to time. I hope she takes it upon herself to come soon, for I feel my time growing nigh. December 12, 1815. I can finally see the light. I gave birth to a healthy son on December 6th. Praise God. During the labor, a hurricane hit the coast and most of my windows were blown out. Ruth arrived just in time. She settled me into the room under the stairs, and Little Jonny was born.
