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He always wanted to leave, Marcus.

As long as I can remember we had been servants; being controlled by Master Collin and his wife, Edna. Edna was the kind one, but she must follow her husband. In the spare time she had, she would bring us bits of bread and biscuits… In those days when Marcus was still here…

Marcus was my best friend. He was my only friend on this confounded ranch.

Sometimes I sit and wonder.

“What happened to him?”

I was curious after all.

I ever so longingly want to know… I desire a hope in which the truth will surely blossom.

I want to believe that he has survived.

He and his mother worked here on the ranch. His mother worked for Master Collin.

Every day I saw her. She would fold linens for the master overnight. She looked so hollow and empty.

November 16, 1832, Florence, Kentucky