by Alex Negen
Sarah Whitson wasn’t watching her step and ran into Rebecca Huff on Water Street. The two women greeted each other cordially: Rebecca asked if Sarah had been sick, she looked so pale and anemic; Sarah flattered Rebecca on her thrift for wearing a dress that had clearly seen better days. The reasons for their mutual loathing were opaque yet severe.
“You’ll never guess what Mary Coburn told me just yesterday,” said Rebecca. “She said she saw your husband on East Beach yesterday.”
This was an impossibility. Sarah’s husband Levi was at sea and had been for eight months. He would not be home for at least another season.