She was deemed unfit for marriage, so in 1856 her father married her to the strongest slave, Virginia.

He told me bluntly, “A white man will never marry you.” It’s true. But you need protection.

When I die, the inheritance will go to your cousin Robert.

He’ll sell everything, give you a few cents, and leave you dependent on distant relatives who don’t care about you. I said, knowing it was impossible, “Then leave me an inheritance.”

“Virginia law doesn’t allow it.” Women can’t inherit alone, especially…” She pointed to the wheelchair and couldn’t finish her sentence.

“So what do you propose?” “Josiah is the strongest man in this heresy.” He’s intelligent; yes, I know he reads the secrets, so don’t be surprised. He’s healthy, fit, and, from what I’ve heard, has a good heart, despite his size.

He won’t abandon you because he has a legal obligation to stay. He will protect you, meet your needs, and care for you.

The logic was terrifying and unyielding. I asked him, “Have you asked him?” He replied, “Not yet.” I wanted to tell you first. “What if I refuse?”

At that moment, my father’s face seemed to age ten years. “I’m still trying to find you a white husband, and we both know I can’t.”

And you will spend your life after my death as an adopted child, dependent on the charity of relatives who consider you a burden. He was right.

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