She tossed off the covers and stretched her stiff back. Time to check out the garden. It would be good to smell the fragrant earth again.  She missed the early days with her husband David on her daddy’s farm.  Time before he had shown her the power of his fist.  Annabelle buttoned up a blue cotton house dress while she pushed her thoughts away from those images.

“Tillie’s right. I’m a Morgan, too,” she said aloud. Exiting the room, Annabelle passed the farm painting over the stairs. She sighed. Regina got the house, the paintings, the car, and the diamond earrings, while all she’d gotten were Grandma’s string of pearls and bruises. Proof again just how low on the food chain she lived.