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Attack
Southampton
April 8, 1912
Meg
“Miss? Miss? Get up!”
Meg felt the jostling but could hardly pry her eyes open. Where was she? What time was it? Who was shaking her? After another hard jerk, she opened her eyes, and realized it was Charlotte.
“Miss, your mother is asking to see you in the parlor,” the younger woman exclaimed. “She’s quite put out. Hurry! You should dress.”
It took Meg a moment to realize that she was still in her room—but that she shouldn’t be. A glance at the clock on the wall showed her it was half past nine.
Ezra had never come.
Her mother knew.
Charlotte scurried about the room, grabbing clothing items, hurrying her to take her night clothing off, and forcing her undergarments and gown on. She tossed some slippers in Meg’s direction and then, before Meg could even stand, threw herself on the bed and began to pull her hair up into a bun.
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