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As soon as she left, I went to Gisselle's bedside. She had the oxygen tubes in her nose and the IV bag connected to her arm. Her eyes were closed and she looked even smaller and paler than when I had last seen her. Even her hair had grown dull. Her skin had the pallor of the underbelly of dead fish. Beau stood back as I held Gisselle's hand and stared down at her. I don't know what I expected, but there was no sign that she had any awareness whatsoever. Finally, after a sigh. I took out the pouch of five-finger grass and put it under her pillow.

"What's that?" Beau asked.

"Something Nina Jackson once gave me. Inside the bag is a plant with a leaf that is divided into five segments. It brings restful sleep and wards off any evil that five fingers can br

ing."

"What? You're not serious."

"Each segment has a significance: luck, money, wisdom, power, and love."

"You really believe in this stuff?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. Then I lifted the cover and quickly tied my good-luck dime around Gisselle's ankle.

"What are you doing?"

"This, too, brings good luck and wards off evil," I told him.

"Ruby, what do you think they'll say when they find this stuff?"

"They'll probably think one of my grandmere's friends came around and did it," I said.

"I hope so. Gisselle would certainly never bring anything like this. She made fun of these things," he reminded me.

"Still, I had to do it, Beau."

"All right. Let's not stay too long, Ruby," he said nervously. "We should return to New Orleans before it gets too late."

I held Gisselle's hand for a moment, said a silent prayer, and touched her forehead. I thought her eyelids fluttered, but maybe that was my hope or my imagination.

"Good-bye, Gisselle. I'm sorry we were never real sisters." I felt a tear on my cheek and touched it with the tip of my right forefinger. Then I brought it to her cheek and touched her with the wetness. Maybe now, maybe finally now, she's crying inside for me, too, I thought, and turned quickly to run out of the room and rush away from the sight of my dying sister.

Paul had still not risen when we returned, but Pearl was up and playing with Jeanne and Toby in the study. Her eyes brightened with happiness when she saw it was me. I wanted to rush to her and hold her dearly in my arms, but Gisselle wouldn't have done that, I told myself, and I kept a check on my emotions.

"We've got to get back to New Orleans," I said abruptly.

"What was it like at the hospital?" Toby asked. "Like talking to yourself," I said. Ironically, that was the truth.

The two sisters nodded with identically melancholy faces.

"You can leave the baby with me," Jeanne suggested. "I don't mind."

"Oh no. We couldn't do that," I said. "I promised my sister I would look after her."

"You? Promised Ruby?"

"At a weak moment," I said, "but I have to keep the promise."

"Why? You're not crazy about children, are you?" Toby asked disdainfully.

I looked at Beau for help.

"We've already hired a nanny," he said. "Everything's arranged and in place."

"An aunt is better suited to look after her than a nanny, isn't she?" Jeanne retorted.

"What do you think I am, chopped onions?" I snapped. When it came to holding on to Pearl, I could be as firm and as stinging as my sister.