A few days ago I learned something dreadful. Jacob was helping in Father's store, and ran home around teatime. He dragged me into my bedroom and told me something horrid: Father had lost his job. The King of England had told him that he must sell tea or else he would have to stop working. We'd have to move away from Williamsburg until he found a new job. After he went back, I stayed up in my room and sobbed horribly bitter tears. Until Kat threw herself into the room anyway, asking billions of questions. I explained it all to her, and she didn't cry, but I could tell she was very upset.
Later that afternoon, Father came home and gathered us all together. He explained it all to us, but also said how Jacob and Robert would be staying home to finish up schooling. Jacob cried. My strong-willed, no-emotions brother actually cried. As the fearful tears welled up in his eyes, he hid his face so Robert wouldn't see and call him an 'infant' or something of the sort.
The next morning, I was more upset than in the night. I swore nothing would make me feel better, until Father piled us all into our carriage, hooked up Jacob and Robert's horses, and set us off for our Grandfather and Grandmother's house in New York City. He had changed plans: us girls would stay at our grandparent's house, while Jacob, Robert, and Father went back to Williamsburg to try to each find a little work until we could afford to all be together again.
We have yet to arrive, and I cannot wait for the day I go home.
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