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ProloguefMarch 13, 1867 Savannah, Georgia"You aren't going to die, Johanna Chapman; I won't let you.""You heard what the doctor said, Ginny; it's too late.""I won't let it be too late; I'll find a way to save you. I'll get another doctor to treat you. He'll make you well; you'll see.""We must face the truth, Ginny; I'm going to die, very soon. There isn't much time. You must listen to me and do what I say.""You aren't going to die. You mustn't talk. You need to rest to recover. Yesterday was strenuous for you, the move from the ship and the doctor's examination. It can't be your heart; you're only eighteen. He's mistaken.""He said I have infection all through my body. That's why I have this fever, why I have trouble breathing, and every part of me is failing."Ginny recalled the physician's grim words about Johanna's condition. "He's wrong about there being nothing we can do to get you well; there must be a medicine for what's wrong with you."Johanna took a ragged breath and shook her head of matted curls. "He said there isn't. So did the doctor on the ship. There's nothing anyone can do to make me well. I've been ill