Izzy raced blindly down the stairs. Rita had died. No! It couldn't be. She'd just seen her the night before. She'd looked weak, but not at all near death. Sister Mary Thomas's booming voice stopped her halfway down. Her eyes flew to the landing where Gloria stood, the red faced nun blocking her path.
"Turn around and return to your room," Sister Mary Thomas spat at Gloria, her eyes bulging. "You know the rules. No fraternizing. I've told you before, you're not here to make friends."
Izzy could see the back of Gloria's head bob as she spoke. "I'm not leaving until you've told me she's alright. I need to know." The defiant girl's hands flew to her hips.
Sister Mary Thomas turned an impossible shade of red. She gritted her teeth, her jaw forming a sharp line. "Enough," she growled. "I've had enough of your childish disobedience. Return to your room at once!"
"I'm not leaving! Tell me if she's alright!" screamed Gloria, her outburst nearly causing Izzy to fall over on her rear. Izzy grasped the railing for support as she gawked down at the two.
"I said—enough!" The nun's thick hand flew out, slapping Gloria across the face, causing her to tilt over to the side, her hands flying over her cheeks.
She sprung back up, her hands in fists. "You! You are a horrible witch!"
Hissing, Sister Mary Thomas grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around to face the stairway. "You ungrateful little devil," she said, in a gravely voice that sounded like the devil himself. "Do you realize that you're here on charity? Your mother is a penniless whore. She couldn't even scrounge up enough money to send you here. That is, if she'd cared in the first place." Her eyes flashed. Still gripping her arm, she shook it for emphasis. "Did she mention that you'll be here for six additional months after the birth, to pay back the debt you've accrued?"
Gloria went stiff.
"So, you didn't know," the nun said with a nasty grin. She let go over her arm, shooting a look up the stairway.
Izzy crept backwards, but it was too late. The nun's eyes caught hold of her. "You," she hissed.
Izzy turned and took off at lightning speed back towards the room.
Gloria returned a few minutes later, her expression blank as she flung open the door. From where she stood at the dresser, Francine jerked around, a gray dress draped over her arm, eying Gloria warily. Izzy could only imagine what was going through Francine's mind. She could remember her first day, the feeling of hopelessness and disbelief she'd carried with her when she'd first stepped into that room. Although it had only been a few short weeks ago, it seemed like forever. She jumped as Gloria slammed the door behind her, the hollow bang seeming to rock the entire building.
"Gloria," Izzy said. "It's alright." She reached in her pocket, pulling out the small piece of paper Mara had given her. "We'll get a chance to see her tonight, remember?"
Gloria strode purposefully to her dresser, flinging it open. "I'll be gone by tonight," she said.
"You're not thinking straight," Izzy said, watching her, a frown on her face.
"You heard that old witch," Gloria spat. "She means to keep me in this living hell for six months longer than anyone else. I won't spend one more day here." Her green eyes shone with tears.
"Gloria," Izzy said. "There's nowhere else to go. Believe me, I've considered it myself, several times before."
Gloria lifted her chin indignantly. "Maybe there's nowhere else for you to go," she said. "But I've got my Billy waiting for me at home. He'll take me. Me and the baby." She tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder. "We'll make a perfect family."
"Gloria." Izzy sighed, stepping closer to her. "Look, we all know that Billy isn't waiting for you. Just as we know that Donnie isn't waiting for me. If that were true, we wouldn't be here. Please, be reasonable. You have to stay here, there's nowhere else to go."
Gloria slammed her dresser door shut and turned to face Izzy, her eyes narrowing in on her. "You always thought you were better than me," she hissed. "I could tell from the moment you got here. Don't try to compare your pathetic story with mine. Billy does love me, he's waiting for me. He's nothing like your Donnie, and I am nothing like you."
"Fine!" Izzy said. "Suit yourself. I'm only trying to put a bit of reasoning into your irrational mind. No one can tell you anything! You're so caught up in pretending you're better than everyone else, that you can't even see I'm trying to help you."
Gloria rolled her eyes. "Why would I ever need help from a plain old frump like you?" She gave Izzy a disdainful look, her eyes running over her from head to toe. "It's a wonder you even found someone in the first place."
Izzy stormed over to her bed and plopped down, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched the impetuous girl strip the case off her pillow and stuff her meager belongings inside.The nerve of the girl! Gloria clearly had no concept of what it meant to be a friend. What was she going to do? Parade down the hall with that sack and walk right out the front door? Then what? Go back to her mother? Hope for the best with Billy? She couldn't possibly take care of a baby on her own. She was crazy.
Izzy huffed, grabbing the little green layette she'd started to knit. Gloria's beautiful body hid the mean and nasty girl she was inside. She deserved whatever happened to her.
From across the room, Dottie looked up from her knitting, her eyes questioning Izzy's. Izzy gave her a careless shrug. Francine's back was turned to them. She silently folded her dresses, smoothing out the creases and placed them in the dresser.
There wasn't much for Gloria to pack. Most of what she'd come with had been taken when she'd arrived. All three girls watched as she made her way to the door. Hand on the handle, her eyes rested on Izzy's and she paused, as if waiting for her to say something. Izzy looked away, threading the knitting needle through a loop on the layette, feigning disinterest.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gloria's jaw set. She held her head high, ripping the door open.
"Wait," came Francine's voice from across the room.
Gloria stopped in the doorway, her blonde curls swinging around, an irritated expression on her face. "What is it now?"
"You won't be able to go anywhere tonight," Francine said. "I was on the last ferry of the day. There won't be another one running until morning."
"Then, I'll just find somewhere to go until tomorrow," Gloria said, but her resolve seemed to be crumbling.
"I've heard there're bears on this island," Francine said, turning back towards the dresser.
The sack in Gloria's hand lowered a bit as she bore into the tall girl's back. Slowly, she shut the door. "Perhaps I'll wait until tomorrow morning after all," she said, giving Izzy a haughty look.
With the exception of that moment, Francine proved to be the quiet type, which suited Izzy just fine.The tall girl somehow managed to smuggle in an armful of books, which she graciously shared with Dottie.The little girl was lost for the rest of the afternoon in the pages of Little Women.
Izzy and Gloria stoically performed their extra chores for Sister Mary Thomas, who, to their great elation, was preoccupied with other things going on in the home. Neither of them said a word to each other the entire time. Later, in the dining hall, Gloria steamed, the anger radiating off of her as she sat on the bench next to Izzy.
By the time they'd attended chapel and returned to their dormitory, Izzy had forgotten Gloria, her heart pounding with excitement as she stared at the clock, folding and unfolding Mara's note in her hand. Despite the fear of getting caught, Izzy was anxious to find out about Rita and talk to Mara. The young nurse was like a ray of hope in the stone jail, only second to the pleasant memories she held of Wes.
Dottie sat on the bed next to her, back against the wall, her face buried in Little Women. Izzy nudged her. "It's time," she said. "But if you'd rather stay here, I understand."
Dottie set the book down. "I want to see Rita," she said.
Izzy glanced over at Gloria. "It's time we were going," she said apprehensively, cringing at the icy look she gave her.
Despite her coldness, Gloria followed them to the infirmary. Francine wished them luck as they left, her nose buried in a book that rested on her already large abdomen.
Miraculously, they made it to the infirmary unnoticed once again. Mara met them at the door, ushering them in with a sigh.
"Ugh," she said, sticking her head out of the doorway and peering down both directions of the hall. "I don't know what I was thinking. This is risky business."
"Where is she," Gloria spat out as soon as they entered the room. "Is she here? Why did they move that other girl into our room?"
Mara held a finger to her mouth. "Shush. If you're going to be here, you need to be quiet. She's here. She's recovering very well. She'll be down here for a couple more weeks, and then she'll be going home."
The girls breathed a collective sigh of relief. Dottie pushed forward. "Can we see her?"
"Yes," said Mara. "But, I'm going to warn you. Rita is depressed. She's gone through a lot. Her body is mending, but her mind will take quite awhile longer."
They pushed past the curtain. Rita looked like a statue as she sat up in her bed, her hands in her lap. She made no move to greet them as they crowded in around her. Dark circles had formed over her eyes, making her look much older.
"It's great to see you again," Izzy said, trying hard to mask her concern.
Rita glanced at her, her eyes dull and far away. Her slight smile didn't make it to her eyes. "I'm leaving soon," she said, as if that was the last bit of hope she was grasping to. "I'm going home."
"That's great Rita, I'm so happy for you," Izzy said, taking her hand. It was cold and clammy under hers. "Everything will be right again when you get home. It'll all be back to normal."
Izzy realized she was speaking about what she was wishing for. That everything would begin where she left off. That she'd be a carefree girl again.
"Yeah." The tone of Rita's voice showed she wasn't convinced.
"Don't forget about us," Dottie said beside her, not disguising the concern on her face for Rita's current state.
"Perhaps you could exchange addresses," Mara offered. "Then you could write to each other."
"Like pen pals," Dottie said excitedly.
"Yes, like pen pals," said Mara, her painted lips parting in a big smile. Her eyes bright and convincing. "You could write to each other about your careers, your schooling—your marriages. And somewhere down the line, your children." Her voice trailed off as Rita winced.
"This isn't the end," she said softly. She was speaking to Rita, but the girls knew she was talking to them as well. " Regardless of what they tell you. You will go on to live and you'll find love. Your lives will be full of new and happy memories. Soon, those memories will push the bad ones away."
She rose, grabbing a pen and paper from the desk. The girls scrawled their addresses on it one at a time. Mara folded the paper and gave it to Rita, who clutched it loosely in her hand.
"A tall, awful looking girl has taken your place," Gloria said to Rita. "All gangly with a huge lump of a nose on her face. I'll miss you terribly—promise me you'll write."
Beside her, Izzy's mouth dropped open. She wondered to herself if anyone would truly miss Gloria when she left. Then, her heart softened slightly as she remembered that Gloria was sentenced to be there much longer than anyone else.
Rita smiled. "I will."
"The first of us to get married must swear to invite the others to their wedding," Gloria said, throwing back her curls. Her expression made it clear that she would be the first.
"Alright, then we all must share addresses," Izzy said. "Even Dottie. Who knows, she could be first, before all the rest of us."
Next to her, the little girl giggled. Gloria rolled her eyes.
"Now, I believe I promised to tell you a little about childbirth," said Mara. "We'll leave Rita to rest, and talk outside."
For another half an hour, the girls stood, absorbing every word as Mara explained the secrets of childbirth in full, graphic details. With undying patience, she explained the signs of the beginning of labor, and then the telling signs that things were going wrong. Izzy shivered as she described the danger of sudden, heavy bleeding, her mind flying back to the night Rita stood, a puddle of blood beneath her.
"How soon will they take the baby away?" Izzy asked, her hand to her stomach.
Mara's eyes clouded over and she blinked, swallowing. "It will be quite soon after your birth. The babies are brought to the nursery. They will stay there for a few weeks until the adoptive parents come to get them.The girls aren't allowed in the nursery."
Izzy took a deep breath, her mind travelling to the cooing baby in the nursery. "What if I should choose to keep the baby?"
Mara's eyes softened. "Izzy, it would be a foolish—and quite selfish—thing to do. A baby needs a good family that can raise it. You'd be giving up everything if you kept your baby. You'd never be married, you'd live in poverty. Most likely, your family would disown you. It wouldn't be fair to you or your baby."
They all were silent for a moment. It was as if a thick fog of sadness hung in the air around them. Izzy's heart lurched as she suddenly realized that her baby would be taken from her, instantly. He or she would never even know who she was.
"It's time to get back," Mara said, her hand on her arm.