"I'm sorry," the woman whispered, wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief. She hadn't stopped crying for the past few days, ever since she'd made her decision.
On the other side of the stagecoach was Lucia, a small thing who sat with her back rigid, staring out the window with her hands folded in her lap. Her hair, somewhere between blonde and brown, hung past her shoulders in loose curls. Usually her mother would have implored her to run a brush through her hair, get it out of her face, but this morning neither of them said anything about it as they prepared to leave. It hadn't seemed to matter.
As promised, the coach had rolled up on the dirt pathway in front of their small home, and the two women climbed up into the back, neither one speaking even as they began their journey.
Lucia's eyes flicked between the trees they passed by, the leaves falling down in warm shades of autumn. She had always loved this season, when the heat of summer began to dissipate, making room for the chill that washed over their town. What would normally have been a wonderful experience, being able to feel the cold breeze of the new season on her face, was instead ruined by a dark cloud hanging over her, of what was to come.
Lucia felt no obligation to answer her mother's empty apologies. In fact, the way that she saw it, she no longer had a mother at all. In the span of just a couple weeks, she'd lost both her father and her mother.
It was no secret that they were poor, and when her father had died Lucia tried her best to pick up the pieces of her mother. She was the one who made sure her mother ate, changed little Theo's diaper, and tried her best to maintain the affairs of the home. She hadn't known quite how bad it all was until a debt collector had shown up on their doorstep.
Left to her own devices, Lucia had opened the door to see a man with a long coat, a scarf wrapped around his neck. Before she could ask who he was, he demanded to see Hope Deighton. "Give me the money I'm owed," he seethed.
She tried her best to placate the man, who was evidently getting worked up and trying to push past Lucia in the doorway, but it was all interrupted when her mother's voice came from behind her.
"Next Tuesday," Hope said. Lucia turned around to see her mother standing there with swollen red-rimmed eyes and looking sickly.
"You people-"
"Nelson died. Heaven forbid his widow is given a few days to scrounge up the money he owed."
"I'm back on Tuesday. If I'm not given what I'm owed, I'm marching in and taking whatever payment is proper." He spat on their floor and then turned to walk away, his eyes looking Lucia up and down in a way that disclosed exactly his meaning.
Lucia had been confused by her mother's words, unsure of how they would come up with the finances. She hadn't imagined that Hope would make a decision like this, though, and since her mother broke the news with tears in her eyes Lucia hadn't spoken a word. She refused to ask any questions about it either, the whole thing making her feel sick whenever she thought about it.
"We're here." The stagehand said gruffly as they came to a stop.
The two passengers stepped out of the stagecoach to be faced with what looked like a relatively large barn. Lucia had gotten lost in her thoughts and for the last leg of their journey hadn't been paying much attention to where they were going. When did they come so far into the forest?
"Looks like we have a seller on our doorstep." A man said with a smile, walking towards where Hope and Lucia stood in front of the barn.
Hope nodded tearfully, and by her side Lucia stood, looking at the man in silence. He was older, with a balding head and the skin on his face drooping with age. Lucia kept her face still, as impassive as possible, but she didn't like this man, the way his eyes examined her as if he was appraising goods.
If her mother were the seller, then she supposed she was just that: goods.
"Let's head inside," the man said, gesturing towards the entrance. He began walking, the two women trailing close behind.
Lucia could tell her mother kept sneaking glances towards her, but she kept her eyes forward, her face stony even as she took in the interior of the barn. There was a foyer area, quite nicely decorated, with squishy cushioned chairs and lamps atop the tables dotted around the space.
They all sat on those squishy chairs and the man spoke directly to Hope now, pulling out a pad of paper. "I presume this is your daughter?"
"Yes," answered Hope, her voice getting caught in her throat.
He gave another smile, as if her nerves were something he saw all the time. "How old is she?"
"She just turned eighteen in June."
"Is there anything we should know about her health? Any family history?" He considered Lucia, tipping his head slightly as he judged the young woman in front of him. She was pretty, but her mouth was slightly pinched from poorly hidden agitation and she looked unseeingly ahead of her as if to avoid meeting eyes with him.
"She's very healthy." Hope said, nodding her head vigorously. "She does get some of the hay fever in the spring, but apart from that she's as healthy as they come. There are no other issues on either side of her family."
"And what of her personality? What is she like?"
Lucia grit her teeth in annoyance, feeling the bumps of her molars against each other. For him to be asking these questions to someone when she was right there was just odd. It made her uncomfortable.
Hope's eyes flitted towards her daughter. "She has always been gentle and sweet. She is quick to obey, and does what she is asked to with speed. In the past we have tried to get her to open her mouth, speak up some more, but unfortunately she never wanted to."
Lucia felt heat creep up her cheeks, hearing how her mother talked about her. Even though nothing said was innacurate, she didn't like how she'd been reduced to just a couple sentences.
The man tapped his finger against his temple. The girl was very slight. If she caught fever, she looked as if she wouldn't be able to make it through her sickness. But apart from that, there wasn't much else he felt apprehensive about. He was sure he could fetch a very high price for her if he played his cards right.
He could sense desperation coming off of the older woman. She needed money, and that was clouding her mind. He knew exactly how to treat the sale.
"Joseph." He called out, and a door on the far side of the room opened.
The man that Lucia presumed was Joseph walked out. "Yes?"
"Can you kindly escort this young woman for some tea? Or hot cocoa, if she prefers." The man said, his eyes not leaving Lucia's.
Joseph stepped forward, indicating that Lucia should follow him into the room he'd just exited from. Lucia cast an uncertain glance around, but the man speaking to her mother only gave her a forced smile that told her she should leave.
As Lucia left the room, he flipped over the page where he had been writing down his notes, and scribbled something down. He handed over the note pad so that Hope could take a look, and as the door snicked shut behind Lucia and Joseph she heard what he said.
"The one on the left is what I'm prepared to give to you right now. Now, if the figure on the right..."
"You seem like you would like hot cocoa more," said Joseph as he pulled a mug down from a cupboard. "Am I right?"
Lucia nodded, trying her best to keep her attention on what was happening in the other room. But the small room they found themselves in was quite good at insulating sound, and as Joseph bustled around he interfered with what they were saying.
She thought she heard the man say something about "big buyers" and "more money". Just then Joseph set down the mug in front of her, steam rising up from its surface.
Being poor, it wasn't often that Lucia had been able to indulge in sweets. This drink of frothy chocolate was a luxury, and she relished it as she gave a nod of thanks and then took a sip.
The man in the other room had been talking for quite a while, and he seemed to have finished his speech because now it was quiet in both rooms.
Joseph seemed to not mind her preference for silence, and remained sitting, arms crossed and looking at the girl in front of him.
He knew the conversation that was taking place in the other room, and pitied the girl. He'd seen the two women through the window, the way they refused to look at each other, how the older woman carried hopelessness in her eyes. She would be taking the deal, even if meant that her daughter would suffer for it.
Lucia took another sip of her hot cocoa, letting the sweet cream swirl around her mouth before she let it trickle down her throat. After what felt like an eternity she heard her mother begin to speak. Even though Joseph was no longer making noise, it was difficult to pick out any of what was said.
"Bigger... only differs... immediately..." Hope ended it with a question.
"Yes." The man said in response.
There was a long, drawn out silence.
Finally Hope responded, and what she said had the air of finality. Lucia wished she could hear more, anything more, but just then the door was opened from the other side.
"Come back in," he said to her. Lucia walked over, leaving her full mug on the table behind her. She stood in the doorway as the man looked expectantly between mother and daughter. "I expect you'd like to say your goodbyes, then."
