Theodora reached her hands into the mist and grasped at it with her fingers.
“Don’t!” Elias said quickly. He leapt forward to try and stop her—but he was far too late.
The crimson strands that had been wavering before suddenly attached themselves to Theodora’s arms and fingers. Her form, which had been halfway insubstantial, strengthened and solidified. Fearful power wove its way through her soul and crossed the strand that still connected her to Dora, who felt it like a cold, wet mist upon her heart.
Dora hit her knees with a gasp. The memories of Hollowvale and the bright, vivid emotions that had only just begun to bubble up within her were abruptly torn away again. The sharp fear and ugly horror at her own actions faded away into a dull, distant sadness.
“I will release your strand,” Theodora said to Dora. Great tears trickled down her face, displaying the grief that Dora knew she truly felt. “And all of the children who still live. The others shall be loved and taken care of, for as long as they desire to stay.”
Dora nodded listlessly. “You have taken the harder path,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“It is not so hard,” Theodora said with a sob. “We are closer than ever. As long as you are content, I shall be happy too. So you must do your best on that score, please.”
Elias hurried towards them both with horror still evident on his face. He grabbed at Dora, who was still covered in blood. “What have you done?” he whispered to her. “What have you done, Dora? You will never be whole again.”
Dora smiled wanly at him. “You spent so long trying to save all of those children,” she said, “only to feel like you were killing them yourself. Neither of us could bear that thought. Just this once, you must let me help you, since it was in my power to do so.” She met his eyes again. “This is my small evil to vanquish, Elias.”
Dora became aware of the feeling of warm sunlight and cotton against her skin. Elias held her close, and she caught the brief scent of sweet myrrh—before her eyes opened once more, and she found herself in a bed at Mrs Dun’s orphanage.
Chapter 19
Dora was not alone.
“Miss Ettings! You’re awake!” Albert’s bewildered voice came from her lefthand side, where Elias had been sitting before. He reached out to help her sit upright. “Has Elias succeeded, then?”
Dora blinked slowly. She had a headache, and her stomach felt mostly empty, but she did not feel in terrible health otherwise. “He has,” she said dimly. She glanced towards the other bed, where Abigail had begun to stir. “But you must help Abigail, please. She is probably far weaker than I am.”
Albert hastened towards the other girl’s bed with a gasp. Abigail mumbled in confusion, but she accepted the water that he offered her and submitted tiredly to his checkup. Dora found some water of her own, then stumbled her way down the stairs towards the kitchen in her nightgown. There she found Mrs Dun, who was even now rocking a freshly-woken newborn in her arms.
“Mrs Dun?” Dora asked calmly. “I don’t mean to trouble you, but could we have a bit to eat when you are able?”
It was a good hour before the resulting furor died down at all. Dora found herself plied with plenty of food and liquids and then shoved unceremoniously back into bed “to rest.”
“But I have already been sleeping, haven’t I?” she asked.
“You have been sleeping without proper fuel,” Albert told her seriously. “Now you must give your body a chance to use what you have given it.” Abigail, for her part, had already fallen right back asleep, and Dora had to admit that there was some small amount of logic to the idea.
Whatever Albert’s intentions, he was not to have his wish—for Vanessa showed up soon enough, and Dora’s cousin insisted on seeing her immediately.
“Oh, you are all right!” Vanessa sobbed, as she launched herself at Dora and dragged her into an embrace. “I was so worried, but they would not let me near you at all once they took you away!”
“Miss Ettings was under quarantine,” Albert told Vanessa seriously. “It would hardly do for you to get engaged to my brother and then fall asleep forever, Miss Vanessa.”
“So you are engaged?” Dora asked distantly. “How wonderful, Vanessa. I hope I will be able to come to your wedding.”
“Why shouldn’t you be able to?” Vanessa asked, bewildered. “I wrote your invitation to the wedding brunch first of all, Dora! Oh—don’t tell Mother that, she will be upset that she was not first, I am sure.”
Dora frowned. “The countess will not give me a room anymore,” she said. “And Auntie Frances would like me to return to the country, she said.”
Vanessa gasped. “Those awful women!” she said—and it was such an uncharacteristic exclamation from Dora’s sweet cousin that even Albert shot her a bewildered look. “They will not dare!” Vanessa declared. “I am sure that Lady Carroway would let you stay with her, at least until the wedding.”
Dora could not help but smile at that. “Engagement has made you bold,” she said. “It suits you very well, Vanessa.”
“I will ask Miss Jennings if she would be kind enough to keep Miss Ettings company while she is in residence with my mother,” Albert said.
Dora glanced his way. “Your mother shall more than suffice as a chaperone, Mr Lowe,” she said slowly.
Albert blinked, and Dora could swear that there was suddenly a faint flush to his cheeks. “Oh,” he said. “Yes, I suppose that is so.”
Dora raised an eyebrow at him. “...but I would be more comfortable with Miss Jennings about, of course. I have grown very fond of her company, and your mother cannot be about at all hours. I am sure that Lady Carroway has a wedding to help plan.”
Albert laughed
