She checked again to make sure the privy door was locked. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the latch, before sinking back onto the wooden seat. The same unsteady hands carefully and slowly lowered her small-clothes over her willowy hips. Her eyes pressed closed, and soft words were murmured to the stifling air within the small shed. A long breath was inhaled, and she looked down.
A soft sob erupted from her lips. Her head lowered to her chest, and her body slumped forward, her hands covering her face.
The man heaved a weary sigh and turned to his wife. "What are we going to do with her?"
The woman he addressed only shook her head in silence.
The young woman before them knelt on the floor. Her cheeks were wet with tears, though the wild sobbing had ended. She glanced to the open bedroom door nearby, and to the bed within. A bed which now lay empty.
At length, the older woman spoke in a cold, empty voice. "There'll be a caravan along soon."
The girl looked up, her pale green eyes going wide with alarm. "No! Mama, please!"
Her mother turned to the man beside her, hiding her grief by avoiding the sight on the floor. "She can't stay here. She was promised to that boy. Our house will be disgraced. Say she ran away, or got killed in the fields." A wrinkled hand was laid on the man's arm as the woman turned away. "Think of something."
"Papa, no!" The girl clapped her hands over her mouth in a panic, as fresh tears began to pour from her eyes.
The old man regarded her in stony silence for a moment.
"You should have stayed away from him," he mumbled, before he, too, turned away.
