Chapter 4: Midnight Escape and the Price of Return

At first, I thought I was seeing things—a shimmer in the corner of my eye, a whisper of movement. But then I saw her, clear as day. My jaw dropped.

More accurately, it was Lila’s soul.

She hovered near the ceiling, watching everything with wide, worried eyes. She looked lost, but relieved to see me. I waved, not sure if she could see me.

She’d come back too, but couldn’t return to her body, just float around.

She drifted beside me as I followed the housekeeper, her presence both comforting and unsettling. We were in this together, somehow. I took a deep breath.

I followed the housekeeper to the second-floor suite, and she floated along too.

The halls were lined with heavy portraits and faded wallpaper—straight out of a Gilded Age mansion. Every step echoed, every shadow seemed to watch us. I shivered.

As soon as we entered, we heard voices inside: "Miss, what’s wrong with your cousin? With his background, you couldn’t find a better match if you tried. You’ve been engaged since you were kids—how can you change your mind now? Even if he goes to clubs, he found a girl who looks like you—such deep affection, who can compare?"

The voice was sharp, insistent. I peeked inside, heart pounding. I felt like I was eavesdropping on a soap opera.

"If he’s so great, why don’t you marry him, Mrs. Dunn?" answered a young woman’s voice.

There was a pause, then a huff. Mrs. Dunn stormed out, muttering under her breath. I grinned—classic Harper. She hadn’t changed.

"Miss, don’t joke," Mrs. Dunn huffed and stormed out.

I ducked behind the door as she passed, then slipped inside. The room was cluttered with strange inventions. I felt like I’d walked onto the set of Back to the Future.

When I went in, I saw on the desk two bars of homemade soap, a hand-cranked juicer, and a half-finished sketch of a bicycle.

It was like stepping into a mad scientist’s lab. I recognized the handwriting on the blueprints—Harper’s, no doubt. My heart leapt.

I said right away, "Baking soda isn’t lye."

My voice came out shaky, but sure. I hoped she’d recognize me. Please, let it be her.

She answered instinctively, "It’s salt."

Her eyes widened, a spark of recognition flickering. I almost cried.

"Harper Brooks?"

I grinned, tears pricking my eyes. "Harper Lane?"

We stared at each other, disbelief and joy warring on our faces. For the first time since this whole mess began, I felt hope. I wanted to hug her.

Wow, Mom, I found my sister.

I wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream. Instead, I just hugged her, holding on tight. She squeezed back.

Harper wasn’t doing well in this era.

She limped, her ankle wrapped in a makeshift splint. Her eyes were tired, but fierce. She looked like she’d been through hell and back. I wanted to wrap her in a blanket.

She was forced into marriage as soon as she arrived, made to kneel in the family chapel, got caned, and broke her leg jumping a fence trying to escape.

She recounted the story with a grim smile, showing me the bruises on her arms. I felt sick to my stomach. How could anyone do this?

The once gentle, obedient daughter became rebellious. The Whitaker patriarch thought she was possessed and even called in a preacher to drive out demons.

She rolled her eyes, mimicking the preacher’s dramatic hand gestures. "He thought holy water would do the trick." I snorted.

"That preacher tried the bare-hand-hot-pot trick. It was just borax. I called him out on the spot."

She grinned, pride shining in her eyes. Science for the win. That’s my sister.

Wow, knowledge really is power. That’s my sister.

I laughed, relief flooding through me. She was still Harper, even here. I wanted to high-five her.

"Later, I made soap, perfume, and ice, earning Old Whitaker a lot of money."

She showed me her inventions, each one more impressive than the last. The family took credit, of course, but she didn’t let it stop her. I was so proud.

Because she made money, the Whitakers didn’t rush to marry her off, so she stayed locked up for another year.

She’d bought herself time, but not freedom. The walls closed in, day after day. I wanted to break her out.

But she still had no freedom. The Whitaker family claimed all the inventions as the patriarch’s secret, never giving her credit.

She shrugged, but I saw the hurt in her eyes. It wasn’t fair, but she refused to give up. I admired her.

In this era, a woman’s success was always her father’s or husband’s, never her own.

She told me stories of other women, geniuses hidden behind their fathers’ names. It made me furious. How could they stand it?

So even though my sister was a science whiz, she couldn’t beat this unfair world.

She tried everything—logic, persuasion, even bribery. But the rules were stacked against her from the start. I wanted to punch something.

"They’re so shameless!" I grumbled.

I wanted to break something, to scream at the injustice. Harper just shrugged, a sad smile on her lips. She was used to it. I wasn’t.

"Tell me about it," my sister sighed. "Now that they can’t squeeze anything else from me, they want to marry me off again."

She rolled her eyes, but I could see the fear lurking underneath. I wanted to protect her.

"I’m sorry, Harper. My father did you wrong," Lila’s ghost said softly.

She hovered near the window, her voice barely a whisper. Harper looked at her, softening. I felt a lump in my throat.

Harper was now in her body.

She reached out, her hand passing through Lila’s, but the gesture was enough. Forgiveness hung in the air, fragile but real. I blinked back tears.

Even with all her skills, she was still trapped. I could only imagine what Lila’s life had been like.

I thought of all the girls who’d never had a chance, whose stories were lost to history. It wasn’t fair, and it never would be. I wanted to change the world.

The days of two people and a ghost in one room lasted a few days.

We became a strange little family—two sisters and a spectral friend, plotting our escape. Like the Scooby-Doo gang, but with more existential dread. It was weirdly comforting.

Here, only Harper and I could see Lila’s soul.

We kept it a secret, afraid of what the others would do if they found out. Lila drifted through walls, listening for gossip, searching for answers. We made plans at night, whispering under the covers.

We hadn’t found a way for her to return to her body, or for us to get home.

Every night, we made plans, drew maps, tried to piece together the rules of this world. Hope kept us going. I believed we’d find a way.

One day, Lila’s cousin, Samuel Rivers, showed up.

He arrived in a shiny black car, dressed to impress. His hair was slicked back, his smile too perfect. I rolled my eyes. He looked like he belonged on The Young and the Restless.

He wore a three-piece suit, looked like a young lawyer, with a slick grin like a soap opera villain. I half-expected dramatic music to start playing.

He swaggered down the hall, flowers in hand, acting like he owned the place. I wanted to trip him. Harper just glared.

"Cousin, why won’t you see me?" He stood outside, whining.

His voice was high and nasal, like a kid who’d never been told no. Harper rolled her eyes, mouthing "help me." I stifled a laugh.

"Are you mad I took in Mary and Laura? It was all for you. Mary looks just like you—the first time I saw her at the cabaret, I thought of you. Laura’s just like you too, so I brought her home. My feelings for you are as clear as day."

He rattled off names like they were trophies, not people. I felt sick. Who does that?

He was pouring out his heart in the hall. Inside, Harper was rolling her eyes.

She mimed gagging, making me snort with laughter. Lila just looked sad. I wanted to high-five Harper.

"He does this every three days," she whispered. "I’ve been putting up with him for a year!"

Her patience was superhuman. I’d have thrown him out the window by now. Harper just shrugged.

"Want to teach him a lesson?" I grinned.

My mind raced with possibilities—itching powder, fake love letters, the works. I was ready for some mischief.

Then I remembered Lila was there, so I looked at her.

She hovered near the door, her expression thoughtful. I waited, not wanting to hurt her feelings. She nodded, giving us her blessing.

Lila’s gaze drifted, and after a while she murmured, "I used to think my cousin and I were meant to be, but after living in your world, I realized what a real partnership should be. Fidelity shouldn’t just be for women, it’s for men too. If you can’t be each other’s only one, how can you call it love? Harper, if you want to get rid of Samuel, go ahead, don’t worry about me."

Her words were soft, but they carried conviction. I nodded, determination flaring. Harper grinned.

I went out and handed Samuel a note.

He snatched it, eyes gleaming. I resisted the urge to smack him. I smiled sweetly.

"Halloween night at midnight, meet at the summer house."

He read the note and smirked, pleased with himself. He thought he’d won. Not even close.

He winked, thinking he’d won. Little did he know... Ha. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

As he left, he winked at me: "Don’t worry, once I marry your lady, you’ll be taken care of."

I shuddered in disgust. I wiped my hands on my skirt, trying to get the slime off. Harper just laughed.

I couldn’t imagine how Harper had put up with this guy for a year.

She shrugged. "You get used to it. Or you learn to plot revenge." I gave her a fist bump.

In the next few days, I dug pits around the summer house, set up mouse traps, scattered cayenne pepper and lye water.

We worked late into the night, giggling like kids at summer camp. The air smelled like dirt and soap. It felt good to fight back, even in small ways.

Enough to make Samuel miserable.

We left just enough clues for him to walk right into every trap. Halloween was going to be one for the history books. I could hardly wait.