25 July 1692, Monday
Father visited early this morn. He joined Lizzie and me and we broke our fast together sharing memories of Rebecca and drinking her eternal salvation. Father told us, in hushed tones, as though the wood beams would betray us, that the bodies of the executed women were buried under the rocky ground near the Hanging Tree. Not content with such an arrangement, the Nurses rowed up the North River, removed Rebecca’s body, and brought her home for a proper burial, which is as it should be.
This has been a hard day for more reasons than one. I thought nothing could beat the sadness of Rebecca’s death, but now we have more unwelcome news. First, Patience, our helping-girl, left us. Twas unexpected and I, for one, did not know what to make of it. As Patience told us the news,
