The Lilac Tunnel: My Journey with Samantha

I tell Samantha she might be right, but we need proof. There’s only one way, she says: catch Elsa with the brooch by searching her room right now, while she’s busy setting the breakfast table.

I follow Samantha down the creaky stairs to the next floor, my palms already sweating at the thought of getting caught. Elsa’s door is shut, but Samantha reaches boldly for the knob. What happens if we’re caught, risking trouble for her, too? Inside, the room surprises me with how bare it is: a simple bedspread, a wooden nightstand holding only a grainy photo of a large family. Samantha eases open a tall wardrobe, a shawl and two plain dresses hanging inside, and pulls down a round hat box from the top shelf. Just a straw hat, no surprise there.

I say we should leave, but Samantha tells me to wait, lifting the hat to reveal a thick, banded stack of dollar bills underneath, more cash than I’ve ever seen in one place.

It’s proof, Samantha whispers. How else would Elsa have that much money, unless she stole Grandmary’s brooch and sold it? We have to tell Grandmary right away. She tucks the money back, careful to leave the hat sitting exactly as it was, and we rush downstairs.

Mrs. Hawkins stops us in the hall: breakfast, and Grandmary’s waiting in the dining room. Samantha shoots me a look that says she’s got this and hurries in, while Mrs. Hawkins sends me to the kitchen. I eat slowly, straining to hear voices from the dining room, and nearly drop my muffin when Elsa steps in, declaring there’s ironing to start since daylight’s wasting.

Then Grandmary calls out that she wants to see Elsa right away. Elsa’s face darkens. She glances at Mrs. Hawkins, who only shrugs, before disappearing through the swinging door.

Minutes later, Grandmary pulls Mrs. Hawkins into the pantry, and Samantha waves me toward the door. Elsa is leaving, she says. Grandmary asked about the money, and Elsa got upset. We don’t know for certain she took the brooch, but she looked guilty.

Standing near the lilac tunnel, we hear a carriage pull up out front. Elsa’s packed fast, unsurprising given how little she owns, and just like that, she’s gone.

Walking back, I kick something that skids ahead of me, sparkling in the sunlight. Samantha reaches for it, color draining from her face. Grandmary’s brooch.