"Silver Lining" by Deborah Cullins Smith

 
Every cloud has a silver lining…

Carrie's mother must have said that a million times.  

Carrie sighed and rubbed weary eyes. She hated working so late at night, but it was absolutely necessary.

"Yes," she murmured to the empty room, "necessary."

She thought back to her mother's final moments, those pain-filled gasps and the terrible secrets they had whispered. Then she was gone, death leaving her pale cheeks whiter than the bed sheets.

Carrie caught her finger on the metallic fabric in her hands, and felt the sharp prick as a bloody droplet welled up on her index finger. She sucked it for a moment. It wouldn't do to leave a bloodstain on the silver-studded cloth. A quick glance at the clock on her worktable made Carrie's needle whip through the fabric even faster.

At last, she knotted the final thread, cutting it with trembling fingers. Taking up the two long lengths of silvery fabric, she descended a narrow wooden staircase.

Two boxes rested in the musty darkness of the cellar. Releasing the latch, she opened the first one, carefully spread the fabric drape, then lowered the lid with shaking hands.

Not a moment too soon!

A man crept down the steps just as Carrie hid behind the ancient furnace. She didn't dare breathe as she heard stealthy footsteps echo in the darkness. She heard the screech of hinges as the top raised, then closed. She leapt from her hiding place at the first shriek, knowing that the silver had pierced sensitive skin. She knew it would. Her father would never stalk the innocent again. Quickly she slammed a heavy lock in place, sealing the monster in his silver-lined coffin.

Soft footsteps on the stairs caught her attention. She whirled to see a white-clad figure descending the steps with an oil lamp held high.

"Is he…?" the specter faltered.

Carrie nodded, a second silver shroud draped over her arm, a second lock gripped tightly in her hand.

A sad smile flickered over the pale face. "You've done well, daughter. He'd have never left you alone."

Carrie nodded, the lump in her throat too thick for words to push past. She opened the second coffin and laid out the silvery fabric, but this time, she laid it dull side up, the sharp flints pointed outward. Her mother examined the shroud approvingly.

"Remember, Carrie, silver linings…"

Cold fingers brushed Carrie's cheek, as her mother lowered herself carefully into the coffin. Carrie gently covered her mother's form with the silver blanket and closed the coffin lid with a thud, her lips moving in silent prayers of thanksgiving..