A Home For Emily

Prologue

New York

1836

Grace

It's  so cold and the trip is taking much longer than it should. Grace has to stop every block or so to cough, her body shaking with the coughing and the cold. She's so weak.

Emily, her love, her life, is as worn out as she is. Her three-year-old body isn't made for this long of a walk. Her hand is so cold in hers.

It's Christmas Eve. It's snowing, it has been for two days. The snow is piled up everywhere. The streets are packed with people carrying packages, laughter, bells, and the sound of carolers singing fills the air around them. But nobody pays any attention to the poorly dressed woman or her small child.

Grace has to stop and cough again. The man approaching them frowns at her as he crosses the street, probably afraid her poverty and sickness will somehow soil his pristine suit of clothes. Emily lets go of her hand and sits down on the stoop of an apartment building they are in front of.

"Sleep now, Mama," Emily whines. She curls up on the stoop, shes almost half asleep already. "I do't wanna walk no more."

They've been walking for a few hours, but there's not much further now. The orphanage is close, or Grace is pretty sure it is. It's been years since she's seen it. She had been a young thing then, full of life and beauty, and she had shivered at the sight of all the parentless children. Now her daughter will be one of them.

She just has to get her there. And then her work in this world will be done. Her daughter's eyes are closed. Grace wants to join her, wrap her arms around her, sleep with her. But she can't.

Grace bends down and speaks to her daughter. "Anymore. You don't want to walk anymore. But we have to Emily, it's dangerous to fall asleep outside in the cold."

Emily is so smart for her age. She's such a bright, pretty child. Surely someone will adopt her. Maybe someone with means, someone who will be able to give her a better life than she ever could.

Still, it hurts to say goodbye.

Grace forces a smile through her tears. "You'll be in a safe, warm place soon. Just a little further, I promise."

Emily stands up. Shes swaying on her feet, clearly exhausted. Grace takes a long moment just to study her face. Her brown long curly hair. Her expressive warm brown eyes. Her round cheeks, red now from the cold.

In the short time Grace has left, she will miss her so much.

She takes the piece of paper out of her pocket, the one with her child's name carefully written, and places it in Emily's pocket. In time, she will forget her (and how that hurts Grace's heart) but she will always know who she is.

Grace holds out her hand and Emily takes it. "That's my good girl."

Emily smiles up at her, her dimples on full display.

And they continue on their journey. The last journey Grace will ever make.

Missouri

1841

Emily

"Emily, wake up. We're almost to the next stop."

Emily opens her eyes and peers up at Ms. Page. She has a few apples in her hands and gives her one. It's green and small and it's all Emily's had to eat since the hard biscuit she had been given at breakfast, but, as Emily has been told many times during her eight years, beggars can't be choosers.

Emily looks out the dirty window of the train and sees nothing but trees and grass. When she had started this journey, two months ago, she had been so excited about riding on a train. Emily had never been anywhere in her life, hardly even stepped foot out of the orphanage she had lived in for as long as she could remember.