CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Late 1700s |Town of Oakwood

 

Sophia continued caring for Timothy, though he too seemed to be getting increasingly ill. She insisted he was just malnourished, but Oliver ignored her thoughts by bringing countless doctors to the house to check the child. With each doctor came a new diagnosis and a new type of treatment. The young boy was deemed to be anemic by one and mentally ill by another. Oliver, fearing Timothy would eventually meet the same fate as Christopher, sought to fill the void that would no doubt form in his wife.

He doted on her every chance he got, soon forgetting his daughter was still with them, living in the attic. Sophia sent food up the elevator shaft three times a day but Olivette was rarely seen. No one knew that while the others lived on in the Oakley house, Olivette grew sick alone in the attic with no one there to check on her. It seemed she had caught whatever ailment had killed Christopher and now plagued Timothy.

The doting and extra attention that Oliver gave to Sophia paid off and, to both of their surprise, she was soon expecting a child. She passed cooking off to a servant while she spent countless hours in bed hoping for the baby to arrive healthily.

Timothy began to thrive after a few days and felt so much better that he begged Oliver to play outside with him. He was so young and so full of energy. Oliver, however, was not as young as he had once been and was little equipped to run around with a small child. He had a heart attack on the front lawn, while Timothy looked on in horror.

A gardener was able to save Oliver. He beat him on the chest until he seemed to breathe somewhat normally again. Oliver was taken to one of the spare rooms in the house, and everything was cleared out except for the bed. Sophia ordered the bed to be covered in black curtains, so Oliver had a dark, calm and quiet place to recover. Sophia resumed her full-time care of Timothy and now Oliver, who was told to stay in the bed by every doctor that came.

Sophia, feeling the need to inform Olivette of her father’s declining health, walked the flights of steps to the attic. The strain from the hike to the top floor did little good, as she soon gave birth to twin boys, four months too soon. Sophia named them Michael and Samuel. They were buried with Christopher in the woods where their deaths would not lurk too close to the house, but still close enough to visit should she feel inclined.

Olivette was blamed for the loss of the twins, her seclusion in the attic being the only reason Sophia had gone up the steep staircase. Oliver was too ill to do much of anything in support of Olivette. Sophia had all entrances to the attic stairs sealed off, with the only access being the servant’s stairs coming up from the basement. The House’s main staircase did not have a lead up to the attic any longer. Sophia had decided that should Olivette want to come out of the room, she could climb the dark stairwell down to the basement, and then climb up to the household like a servant. The food, however, was still sent up to the girl by Sophia, who strictly prepared all the household food.

Olivette had all but been forgotten, sealed away as though she was a secret no one should know of. Soon after sealing the attic, Sophia locked the room to the dolls one last time as she now had little use for that room.

Timothy took ill again soon after Olivette was locked away. Oliver’s health continued to decline and Olivette grew sicker and sicker alone in her attic prison. She would come out in the middle of the nights, climbing down the dark steps, her feet scratching along the steps as she went. She would spend time sitting on the floor in the cool basement and she would draw her fathers’ initials and her own, over and over. Olivette would often wonder the grounds at night, in secret. She would be back in her room by morning, the household staff and family members clueless to her evening escapades.

One evening, Sophia heard Olivette leave the attic. She prepared Olivette a bowl of soup and waited in the basement to see the girl face to face for the first time in months. Olivette was gracious, she had felt so sick for so long, she confided to Sophia that she was dying of grief. Sophia sat in the dark while Olivette removed her mask and ate one spoon full of soup after the other, then she went silently back to the attic.

Olivette wasn’t sure what had gotten into Sophia. Maybe they were beginning to rebuild the love they once had for each other? Why else would she bring her soup in person? Olivette was so lost in thought on her way back to her room, she didn’t even realize that her mask lay forgotten on the basement floor.

Sophia had taken the mask. At long last she would be able to lock the thing up as she had wanted to do for so long.

Oliver would not need anything else until morning. Sophia set a bowl of soup aside for him just in case he awoke early, and went to the office. With Oliver’s death lurking, Sophia wrote to his younger half-brother of the impending death and summoned him to Oakley House to help with the estate matters. After all, women had little rights when it came to those issues.

As Abel Monet made his way to Oakley House, so did the rumors of the Mayor’s impending death and the sick children that Sophia cared for in the big house all on her own. Visitors came and went, staying only for short visits out of fear of whatever sickness was within the home. Sophia soaked in every moment of the attention. She received flowers and candies, meals and wine. Gifts and kindness poured into the Oakley house, leaving Sophia in a very euphoric state of mind. She began turning away doctors that were seeking to help. She was adamant that she alone could help her family recover from the sickness that overtook the house.

She was so sure she could be the savior of the home, she even sent away the priest that had come to give Oliver his last rights before he passed. Her bravery and determination continued to earn her praise and attention from the townspeople. Though by turning away the priest, she would soon begin to turn the favor of the townspeople against her. She was, after all, denying Oliver of his chance at peace after death.

Olivette remained forgotten in the attic, whether people had forgotten she existed, or they assumed she was off at school she didn’t know. Sophia and her father were to blame for her loneliness. She was ill, yet received no care, no doctors came to look at her, no flowers came to fill her room with joy and the sweet smell of happiness. Olivette steeped in her rage while steadily declining just as Timothy and her father.

Sophia was as healthy as she could be.