Epilogue

New York City, 1781

Quinn found it difficult to live within the confines of a city. She woke startled at the unexpected rattle of carriages going by, but was always soothed by Rachel's soft kiss and cuddles that brought her back to sleep. It didn't take long for them to be settled, although Quinn would forever miss the open fields she had left behind. They had no trouble finding the small apartment that would become their own within a matter of months. It wasn't big and it wasn't as beautiful as her house had ever been, but it was hers in a way the farm would never have been either. Each furniture or detail of the house had been picked by the two of them and matched them perfectly. The walls were covered in Quinn's paintings - paintings she had started to sell to make money.

She never wanted to make a job out of what had been a hobby, but once she did, she realized it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. It didn't feel like a chore, even though most times she wasn't free to paint exactly what she wanted. When it was just her and a canvas in front of her, everything was simple. It didn't give her a lot of money, but it didn't take her long to realize she didn't a lot of money. As long as she had enough to support them and pay for the medicines Oliver had started to take, she had enough.

Oliver had progressed and surprised every doctor that ever laid eyes on him. The constant stimulation of a big city and crowded neighborhood with kids running around the streets all day pushed him in a way the life in a farm never could. Soon enough he was able to sit on his own, clap and giggle whenever he saw a child running out of the window. All the children from the neighborhood knew and loved him, so a few times a day they would stop by the window to make funny faces and get the most delicious laugh from Ollie, who waited all day for those appearances. Still, nothing make him smile as much as he did when Rachel got home.

Rachel started working as a cleaning lady in the nearby houses, much against Quinn's will. Quinn made enough money to allow Rachel to stay at home and take care of Ollie, and they shared the household chores so that Rachel wouldn't feel like it was her job. But Rachel wanted more. She needed to work to feel useful and she was elated to have her small share of money to help in the house and be able to buy things for them. Quinn was jealous of Rachel being on other people's house for most of the day, but she knew it wasn't her choice. She had learned that although Rachel was still hers, she was free to do what she wanted with her life. She knew it didn't matter whose house Rachel spent the day, because at night she would be in their house, in Quinn's arms. And it made her proud whenever she would hear someone complimenting Rachel for her work. Rachel continued with her tutoring lessons, always eager to learn, and Quinn was even proud to see how her independence allowed her to spend more than a fair share of her salary with books.

While they both worked, Oliver spend the way with Arabella and Matilda. The moments their families spent together, on Sunday night dinners or impromptu breakfasts in the middle of the week, were priceless. Quinn couldn't even remember that once she had thought of living near him only in case Oliver needed something or in case she wasn't able to support them financially. None of that mattered near the joy they felt for simply being together.

The two children would grow to become best friends and shared a complicity that reminded Quinn of her old days with her brother. Tilly was ever so careful with Ollie, even though she was way too young to understand he had been born completely different from her. Ollie and Tilly grew up without ever even seeing a slave, although the city still had some of them. They grew up in the pure and innocence Quinn once had, of not knowing how to differentiate people and never learning what prejudice was. If it depended on them, Oliver would never know he and his mother had been born slaves. In their houses, black and white dined along together and it was natural for them from day one, even though it still attracted some curious looks from neighbors.

Neighbors, who on the other hand, had never batted an eye towards the fact that Rachel and Quinn lived together. When moving, Quinn had told everyone Rachel was her sister, but it didn't take a genius to realize it was more than that. They didn't look alike in the least. Still, if anyone realized what was happening inside the small apartment, no one said so and Quinn and Rachel lived together as any married couple. In fact, Quinn had asked Rachel to marry her not much time after they arrived in the city. Of course, they could never had a wedding like George and Arabella had, and Quinn would never be able to walk down the isle of a church. But the vows they exchanged under their sheets and the love promises they made every night were worth all the same.

Rachel and Quinn had grown up alone, although in absolutely different positions. They fought their way through life, never conforming to what had been imposed to them from the day they were born. They found each other along their way and together, they were able to the change their worlds as they knew it. Their love was freeing, not only to them and their bounds, but freeing enough to change the little world they had grown up in. Back in Basseterre, Abbie, Dorea and Lou Lee opened a restaurant. They didn't think they would thrive, knowing white people wouldn't want to eat there. But they weren't the only slaves from that farm who had been free, and everyone loved and missed Abbie's food. The restaurant grew in a way they never imagined and their food became so popular that even a few brave white people dared to dine in every night.

Eugene, Rachel's father, used the money he had saved his whole life to buy Rachel's freedom to visit her, instead. He was astonished by the size of the city and enjoyed a summer running through the parks with Oliver on his arms while Quinn and Rachel worked. Never once he said anything about their relationship, although Rachel suspected he knew it. The only words Quinn ever heard from his mouth was of extreme gratitude. He didn't know that in fact, Quinn was the one who was grateful, for if it wasn't for him, she would never have Rachel.

Judy, on the other hand, was left to live in the Basseterre house that George left behind. Without any slaves or money to afford house workers, but still with a pride that wouldn't let her move one finger to clean the house or cook for herself, she died not long after her children moved away. Although George mourned for her from a far, no one came to her funeral. When Quinn heard the news, she shed a tear. Not for sadness that her mother had died, but for the relationship they never had. It wasn't more than a tear, though. All that she never had with her mother, she was able to build with Oliver, who sometimes, when they were alone, dared to call her mother. Her heart flooded with a happiness that allowed herself to wipe clean any sadness she had ever felt. Lady Angeline never learned of their new location, and none of them ever heard from her again. None of them missed her, either.

In the mornings, Quinn fed Oliver his bottle while Rachel scrambled eggs for their breakfast. Quinn had been learning how to cook, but Rachel still preferred to do so. Anyone who ever tried Quinn's food would understand why. After pampering Ollie's face with kisses and watching him wave goodbye from Arabella's arm, they left together for their respective jobs. Before coming out of the building's door, Quinn and Rachel kissed and the domesticity of the act made both of them tingle on the inside. Both of them had grown up alone, but right then, no one could ever say they weren't a family.

As they walked out, Rachel looked back to the bushes by their building's door. Right there, on the bushes Quinn tendered so much for, roses bloomed brightly red.