her wife had gone, and with her erzulie felt as though a piece of her had also departed. clementine must be found, and it would not do for them both to leave. so remain she did with her growing children, and a rising sense of restlesness chafing at her soul.
it was a little shout that finally drew her from where she had slipped out of blackpine, and quivering with something she did not allow yet to be hope, erzulie approached the small figure fast approaching. "clementine!" she cried back, relief awash in the salt that suddenly stung her eyes. the flower that followed went unaddressed for now; erzulie gathered her prodigal daughter to her breast. 
"j'étais si inquiet!" she exclaimed in a fervor. "manman ou ap chèche ou," she added, lapsing into the haitian french she had been taught by marie. and here she looked past clementine to see if rosalyn was there, in the distance, but no she was not, and erzulie looked to the woman who had returned her girl. "i be t'ankful," the harlot murmured. "you have done my heart a good t'ing today."