The Blackstone Chronicles Read Free Page A

relented
.
    The woman watched helplessly as her husband carried her child out of the house. Instinctively, she knew she would never see her child again. And she would never be allowed to have another
.
    The man carried the child through the great oak doors of the Asylum, and finally set the small, trembling figure on her feet. A matron waited, and she now knelt in front of the child
.
    “Such a pretty little thing,” she said. As the child, holding her doll, sobbed, the matron looked up at the man. “Is this all she brought with her?”
    “It’s more than will be necessary,” the man replied. “If anything else is ever needed, please let my office know.” He looked down at his child for a moment that stretched out so long a spark of hope glowed briefly in the child’s eyes. Finally, he shook his head
.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for what she did, and sorry you let her do it. Now there is no other way.” Without touching his child again, the man turned and strode through the enormous doors
.
    Without being told, the child knew she would never see her father again
.
    When they were alone, the matron took her by the hand and led her through a long hallway and then up
some stairs. There was another long hallway, and finally she was led into a room
.
    Not nearly as nice as her room at home
.
    This room was small, and though there was a window, it was covered with heavy metal mesh
.
    There was a bed, but nothing like the pretty four-poster she had at home
.
    There was a chair, but nothing like the rocking chair her mother had painted in her favorite shade of blue
.
    There was a dresser, but it was painted an ugly brown she knew her mother would have hated
.
    “This will be your room,” the matron told her
.
    The child said nothing
.
    The matron went to the dresser and took out a plain cotton dress that looked nothing like the pretty things her mother had given her. There was also a pair of panties, and some socks that had turned an ugly gray color. “And these will be your clothes. Put them on, please.”
    The child hesitated, then did as the matron had instructed. Taking off the frilly pinafore in which her mother had dressed her that morning, she lay it carefully on the bed so as not to wrinkle it. Then she pulled off her underthings, and was about to put on the panties when she heard the matron utter a strange sound. Looking up, she saw the woman staring down at her naked body, her eyes wide
.
    “Did I do something wrong?” the child asked, speaking for the first time
.
    The matron hesitated, then shook her head. “No, child, of course you didn’t. But we got you the wrong clothes, didn’t we? Little boys don’t wear dresses, do they?” The matron picked up the doll. “And they certainly don’t play with dolls. We’ll get rid of this right now.”
    The child screamed in protest, then fell sobbing to the bed, but it did no good. The matron took the doll away. The child would never see it again
.
    Nor would anyone beyond the Asylum’s walls ever see the child again
.
    The dark figure cradled the doll, gazing into its porcelain face in the moonlight, stroking its long blond hair, remembering how it had come to be here. And knowing to whom it must now be given.…

Chapter 1
    E lizabeth McGuire was worried. It had now been nearly twenty-four hours since her husband had gotten the call from Jules Hartwick. Though the banker told Bill that the “small problem” that had come up about the Blackstone Center wasn’t particularly serious, Bill had been brooding ever since. All through yesterday afternoon his agitation had grown worse. By dinnertime even Megan, who in the six short years of her life had rarely failed to bring a smile to her father’s face, was unable to extract anything more than a grunt from him.
    Bill spent most of the night pacing the house, finally coming to bed only when Elizabeth had come downstairs, rubbing her distended belly, and informed him that not only was she lonely, but