I already knew this part of the story. “But there was an outbreak of scarlet fever.”
He nodded, his head bobbing like a disjointed puppet above his bony shoulders. “Yes, I imagine most folks are familiar with my tragic past. My son was not yet three months old when the fever came to Hopewell. I had already survived the disease myself years ago, and was safe from contracting it again. My wife and baby were not so fortunate. They were both stricken within days of the outbreak.
“I went to Sarah for help, but it was your grandfather who met me at the door. When I explained what I came for, he turned me away, claiming there wasn’t anything Sarah could do.” Edgar’s hand clamped tighter on my leg.
“She was sick,” I protested, squirming under his touch. “The fever nearly killed her.”
“Your grandfather said the same thing at the time, but I knew it was a lie. She possessed the ability to heal. How could a mere illness be a match to such power?”
“We can’t heal ourselves. The power only goes one way—”
Edgar waved off my explanation with his free hand. “It’s an excuse,” he said, his agitation increasing.
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. We’re bound to help if we can. She must have been too sick or she would have gone with you.”
His shoulders sagged as a sob racked his chest. “My son died the next morning,” he croaked hoarsely. “My wife followed a few hours later.” His cheeks glistened with tears, illuminated by the candle’s soft, flickering light, and despite being tied up and half drugged, I managed to feel sorry for him. He stared down at the bed for some time, before mastering his emotions once again.
“That night while digging their graves, I finally understood the real nature of Sarah’s ability. It wasn’t just the power to perform miracles, but the power to decide who should live and who should die. Tragedy had forced open my eyes and I saw her for what she really was—a cursed woman. During her lifetime she had somehow gained the power only meant for God. If she continued to live and exercise this power, she would ultimately be judged as a god, held accountable for sins too great for any human to bear. The more I considered her predicament, the more I feared for her immortal soul.” His voice cracked, and his fingers tightened further on my leg. Crying out, I squirmed harder to break his grasp.
For a brief second he looked surprised to see me. “I’ve hurt you,” he said apologetically, releasing his grip and patting my leg once more.
His voice sounded almost normal, almost like the Edgar I had known all my life. A semblance of hope shot through me. “I’m very sorry about your wife and son, Edgar. Please let me go. You know I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Edgar smiled and got to his feet. “They are with the Lord now. There is nothing more I can do for them.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out a flint and striker. When he brought them together, a shower of sparks spilled to the floor.
A shudder ran through my stomach. “What is that for?”
“It took ten years for me to find the courage to act,” he said, ignoring my question. “But by a stroke of good luck, I met Sarah alone at the river one day on her way to the Lenape village. I feigned a limp and inquired if she would take a look. When she got down from her horse to examine my knee, I grabbed her and dragged her into the river. It was over in minutes, the current pulling her lifeless body away from me. I watched her go, assured that she had finally been set free.” He struck the flint again, creating another shower of sparks.
Any love or sympathy I had ever felt for the man dissolved with the image of my grandmother floating down the river. I tugged harder at the binding on my wrists and ankles, but the knots seemed to be growing tighter the more I struggled.
“Elizabeth was about twelve years old when Sarah died,” he said, either blind or ambivalent to my efforts. “She had been learning the craft of healing from your grandmother, but I couldn’t yet tell if she was equally cursed. Over the years, I watched her closely, accounting for every patient she attended. But your mother was very clever and hid her power well. Not until after your birth did I know for sure. Again, I had to wait for the right opportunity to act.