A few questions of the neighbors revealed the girls had headed for St. Francis and that both had looked the worse for wear.
~~~
“They aren’t in trouble,” Detective McGarity assured Sister Evangeline. “At least not with the law. What trouble that b . . .,” he coughed, “. . . that stepfather of theirs may have caused is another matter.”
McGarity saw the look of a mother grizzly cross over Sister’s normally serene face, and nearly crossed himself for protection. At least those poor girls have Sister on their side, he thought.
“I have them in the Infirmary,” Sister confirmed. She looked him up and down.
“I think I can trust you not to be hurting them any more than they already have been, young Steven. But unless that mother of theirs turns a new leaf, they'll stay here with me from now on.”
McGarity nodded his agreement. That would absolutely be for the best, considering that Sergeant Donnell had hauled Mrs. Spicer to the drunk tank until she sobered up enough to say what had happened.
Stepping quietly into the room, he saw Emily lying still as a corpse on the cot, covered to the chin with a white sheet and blanket despite the day's heat. Sitting next to her, holding and stroking her hand, was Barbara, who turned a tear-stained face to him. He was shocked at the bruises on both their faces and arms and wondered what further damage had been done to Emily.
“He attacked her,” said Barbara abruptly.
“He hurt her real bad,” she added bitterly. “He's been after me for the last year and I've been able to avoid him but I never thought about him going after a baby. She's not yet twelve years old! I didn't kill him but I'm glad he's dead.”
“No,” agreed McGarity, “you didn't kill him. It was perfectly plain he tripped and killed himself. But if he hadn't, I suspect there are a number of men who would have done it for him.”
Barbara looked at him carefully. She knew he had a daughter of his own at home, and nodded, understanding what he was telling her.
“Our mother?” she asked.
“Locked away for now, until we can find out what went on.”
“She must have been next door with Maisie Smith because she wasn't there when I got back from fetching her another bottle of gin. She let this happen, though. I don't think I ever want to see her again.”
“I've already promised Sister Evangeline I would not be removing you from here,” he assured her solemnly.
CHAPTER 3 – Our Lady of Mercy
While Emily gradually healed physically, her mind was still locked off. Her face maintained a vacant stare although a slight smile would appear when she saw her sister. She became capable of attending to her own needs, dressing herself and eating, and the girls were able to leave the Infirmary for the dormitory. She even attended classes with Barbara, although she either stared into space or, if a pencil were put into her hand, would draw meaningless circles, sometimes straying right off the page. Barbara stopped giving her a pencil and just let her sit. The whole orphanage said prayers for Emily at breakfast and at dinner. And when the group attended Mass on Sundays, she received a special blessing when the rest took communion.
There had been a cake to celebrate Emily’s twelfth birthday. She seemed to smile a bit when the girls sang to her, and enjoyed the treat, but then slipped even deeper into her shell.
~~~
In addition to basic school work, the girls were being trained in needlework, cleaning, cooking, and other skills they would need in order to acquire jobs or, for the lucky ones, to run a home should they get married.
Barbara was able to manage her numbers and had developed exquisite penmanship, but it was her needlework which was outstanding. She loved hats and dresses and contemplated becoming a dressmaker's assistant when she got a little older. But then she would look over at Emily and shake her head, not knowing how she could leave her sister on her own.
~~~
It was almost six months later that it became obvious that Emily was pregnant. Despite the Sisters’ care, she was still frail and non-responsive to questioning, not even capable of simple conversation. She did as she was told and could feed and care for herself on the most basic level, but it was only the shell of a girl who was there. Her soul seemed to have been sucked away from her.
CHAPTER 4 – Alice
Their mother only came by once. She was bleary-eyed, and reeked of gin, but she’d made her way to the Sisters of Mercy, and, in their mercy, she was allowed to sit in the parlor with Sister Benedicta while Sister Evangeline, waiting in her office, had Barbara sent for.
Barbara arrived, a waddling Emily in tow, and agreed to see her mother.
“She needs to see what that pig of a husband did to her daughter,” said Barbara, bitterly.
Sister regarded her thoughtfully.
“It is a hard thing you are doing, confronting the person whom you blame for not protecting you as a mother should have. I am not sure I would be able to forgive her myself, were I in your shoes.”
Sister paused before continuing.
“She punishes herself every day, you know. She, too, suffers.
“But you are also punishing yourself, and your bitterness hurts you, not her. She has made of her life her own private hell. It pains me to see you suffer as well, blaming yourself for what happened.
