The President's Daughter (1994)

Cover The President's Daughter
Genres: Fiction
Thomas Jefferson “It’s the list for the auction,” said Burwell. “It was lying on Jeff Randolph’s desk.” He held out a sheet of paper. It trembled in his hand.
“Is my wife on there, Harriet? I can’t read.”
Slowly I studied the list of adjudged Monticellian slaves, at least half of them Hemingses of one color or another. My mother’s name was forty-second on the list. She had been estimated as being worth fifty dollars.
Now it was my hand that trembled. My voice was husky and strange to my ears.
...She’s on there,” I said, but I meant Sally Hemings.
“How much?”
“Fifty dollars.”
“Thank God I got enough to buy her.” He sighed. I looked up at Burwell, squinting as if I were trying to make out the human shape at the end of a long tunnel.
“Not your wife, Burwell, my mother.”
The words hung over themselves like willow branches in a storm. I heard my own cracked, charred voice hoarse and thick with coagulating tears. The world turned on its axis then righted itself, but I still had to cling to the doorframe of my grandmother’s cabin to keep from falling.
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