Samantha slept in Miss Brigham's cottage that night. The same nightmares of being trapped in the dark haunted her. Only this time, she emerged in the church and saw Prudence's arm hanging uselessly at her side and Helena's face covered in blood. "Savage!" they chanted as one. Along with the other children, they advanced upon her to take their revenge.
She awoke screaming and flailing her arms to fight off unseen attackers. Miss Brigham grabbed her, wrestling with her until she woke up. "It's only a dream, dear," Miss Brigham whispered over and over again. She cradled Samantha's head against her chest and stroked her hair as she said this.
"I'm sorry," Samantha said. "I wish I could make it stop."
"I know, dear. It's all right. I have some clean clothes right here and there's enough room in my bed."
"I don't want to wet your bed too," Samantha said. "I'll sleep on the floor."
"I wouldn't hear of it. You follow me this instant, young lady," Miss Brigham said. Samantha did as she was told, crawling out of bed and changing into a fresh nightgown and underwear. As she did, she worried about what would happen if this continued to happen every night. How long could someone go without sleep before going crazy?
Miss Brigham's bed was twice the size of hers and soft instead of rough like the straw pallets the girls slept on in the dormitories. "It was a gift from the reverend," Miss Brigham explained. "It's stuffed with goose feathers."
"I don't want to ruin something so nice," Samantha said.
She tried to get out of bed, but Miss Brigham grabbed her arm. "Young lady, you lie down and go to sleep. There is nothing to worry about."
Samantha closed her eyes, but couldn't sleep. Before morning came, Samantha swore to herself she wouldn't get into any more trouble. She would become the girl Reverend Crane and Miss Brigham wanted her to be. And she would somehow find a way to make up for what she'd done to Prudence and Helena. Maybe she could volunteer to do chores for them, although she didn't have any idea how to use the loom. Well, there had to be other things she could do to help.
When the light changed from gray to orange, Samantha rolled out of Miss Brigham's comfortable bed to fix breakfast for her teacher. In the cupboards she found only a jar of raspberry preserves and a plate of leftover bread. It would have to do.
The jar of preserves wouldn't open. Samantha strained and grunted, but the lid didn't come off. What good is a jar that doesn't open? she thought. With this, she felt a surge of strength and the lid popped off with the sound of a gunshot. Some of the preserves splattered over the front of Samantha's nightgown and face. Miss Brigham sat up in bed at the sound, a gasp escaping her lips. Then she rushed over to Samantha, her eyes wild. "What did you do? Let me see it."