Mara was raised an only child. She'd grown up in a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Chicago with all of the things a little girl could ask for. But it lacked the one thing that every girl needed, love.
She had been her mother and father's prized possession.The ginger haired little girl with two perfect braids down her back. She was the talk of every dinner party; the envy of every rich, elderly couple who had waited too long to conceive, or whose children had grown and left them alone.
Growing up, crystal and china surrounded her every meal. Vast, polished marble floors led to empty rooms that served no purpose. In her childhood home, everything had its place, nothing was out of order. All of her dolls set in a line high up on the shelf, only to be looked at, not to be touched. There was no room for mistakes in her home. No room for failures.
As a child she'd always felt that she was on display. Every birthday party was a grand, orchestrated affair solely for the benefit of her parents. All of their friends came and marveled at the fabulous decorations and extravagant gifts they bestowed on their beloved daughter.
"You're such a lucky girl!" they exclaimed.
Her schoolmates thought the same. Only they didn't know what truly went on in her house when the show was over and she was left struggling to please two parents who were cold as ice.
A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched Dottie sleep. The little girl's face looked so peaceful. She could only hope that Dottie found some happiness in her dreams.
Standing up, she paced the small room. Her heart beating fast.
She would always remember that night. Her mother's twisted face, right before she slapped her, was forever etched in her mind.
"You little whore!" her father had screamed, his voice roaring across the marble walls, rattling the china. "You worthless little whore!"
"My god, you're just like your mother!" her mother had wailed. "After all we've done, everything we've given you! It was all for nothing!"
It had taken her a minute to register her mother's words that awful night when they found out she was pregnant. She'd been adopted. Her mother and father had hand picked her shortly after her birth. They'd wanted a perfect baby to complete their perfect home. Not much different than a flowered scarf to match a blouse. Or frilly curtains to accent a room.
They'd dismissed her after that night. A few days later they'd dropped her off at a home for unwed mothers. She'd found out later that it was the same home that her mother had delivered her. She'd been returned, like a damaged good.
When it was all over and she was ready to leave, she was handed a letter. A few cold sentences were etched on the page in her mother's elegant handwriting.
Dear Mara,
This letter is to inform you that you are no longer welcome in our home. You've chosen your path and we wish you well.
The Carringtons
Enclosed was one hundred dollars. The sum of what she was worth. In just months she'd lost everything she'd ever know and a baby she'd never know.
She'd worked hard to pull herself out of the dark, horrible place that her life became after that. She'd boarded a train to Grand Rapids, Michigan. Far enough away that her past couldn't follow her. For weeks she'd lived in shelters as she looked for jobs to support herself. As time wore on, her desperation became so great she considered working the streets like some of the other girls who stayed there. As if by divine intervention, a kind hearted nun took her under her wing, helping her get into nursing school and a job at the hospital delivering meals.
After she earned her nursing certificate, she'd been assigned to St. Mary's Home for Unwed Mothers. At first she refused. She'd never wanted to return to a place like that. There were other options, she could have worked in the hospital. But, something had drawn her back. All of those girls, alone. Suffering like her, and her mother, who she never had the chance to know.
Back in the room, she bit the inside of her cheek. What she was about to do was reckless. A bead of sweat trailed down her back, tickling between her shoulder blades. She was risking everything she'd worked so hard to achieve. If she was caught she'd lose it all.
She'd asked herself hundreds of times why she'd agreed to come to that place, of all places. She'd never been able to find an answer. Maybe this was the answer. Maybe this was why she was here.
Dottie stirred and moaned in her sleep. Her round face cringed, dark lashes fluttering. Innocence lost. Who could do such a thing to a mere baby? The monster should have been sent to jail. But life was cruel and unfair. Dottie needed someone to protect her.
She let out a shaky breath. Betsy was waiting for her at her cottage a short distance down the beach. The older woman was a dear friend. She and her husband Judd had given her a warm welcome when she'd first arrived on the island for her assignment. There was something about the two that was so genuine and real. She'd trusted them instantly.
Betsy was the first person she thought of when she'd made up her mind to hide Dottie. She'd no more than mentioned it, before Betsy insisted she would keep the girl. Mara cautioned her that they would all be in trouble if she was discovered, but Betsy stood firm.
She checked her watch. Five minutes remained until the scheduled bomb drill. With the Cold War looming between the United States and Russia, every establishment was required to conduct bomb drills in case of an attack from the "reds". At the sound of the alarm, all of the girls and the nuns were to head to the basement. It was the perfect time to slip away with Dottie.
"Wake up, Dottie," Mara whispered, touching a finger to her cheek.
The little girl's eyes snapped open in fear, her body jolting.
"It's okay," Mara said. "I'm taking you away from here."
"Where?" breathed Dottie, springing up fast. Her stomach had flattened and it was impossible to tell she'd just had a baby two weeks ago.
"To a beautiful family that I trust completely," said Mara, bending down as she looked Dottie in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"
Dottie studied her, her blue eyes spinning with uncertainty. "I want to see Izzy."
"That isn't possible right now," said Mara, stuffing a few things into her carry case. Her mind was racing through the plan and every nerve was on edge.
Dottie raised her chin in defiance. "I won't leave until I see Izzy."
"You'll see Izzy," Mara said. "But not until you're out of here."
That seemed to be enough to convince the little girl to go with her. As soon as she stood, the alarm sounded, startling them both. Her heart pounding in her ears, Mara hoisted the bag over her shoulder. They needed to wait for a few minutes until she was sure everyone had gone to the basement.
When the alarm finally ended Mara waited until the building was totally silent. She grabbed Dottie's hand. "Follow me and don't make a sound."
Stepping across the room to the door, she was keenly aware that her last chance to change her mind would be gone when she entered the hallway with Dottie, the bag in her hand. Gulping in a breath of stale air, her hand tightening over Dottie's as she opened the door. And stared straight into the face of Sister Martha. The nun's eyes turned wide as she eyed the bag over Mara's shoulder, then Dottie at her side.
"On your way downstairs?" Sister Martha asked. Her expression showed she didn't believe it.
"Yes." Mara wavered, her heart sinking to her stomach. "I just remembered I've forgotten something—I'll be down..."
Sister Martha stepped forward into the doorway, blocking their way. "Where were you going with the girl?"
"Down to the basement with everyone else," Mara said, flustered. A hand sweeping through her auburn hair. "She was sleeping, I had a hard time waking her."
The nun studied Mara, making more sweat roll down her back. Dottie shook like a leaf next to her. Defeat flushed over Mara. She couldn't leave. Not now that Sister Martha had seen them. They'd all know how Dottie disappeared.
"We'll go down with you right now," she said. Her shoulders slumped and she tried to mask the tears in the back of her throat.
The nun didn't move. She clasped her hands together and silently mumbled a prayer. Her eyes were soft when she looked back at Mara and Dottie.
"Go," she said. "We all know the story. I couldn't live with myself if we sent her back after what happened. But I hope you have a plan, Mara. If they catch you, you'll never work as a nurse again. How will you explain her disappearance?"
"Oh praise God! Thank you!" Mara breathed. "I've taken care of it, her disappearance."
The nun's brows drew together. She put her hand up. "I've taken an oath not to lie. Don't tell me anymore."
Mara watched as Sister Martha shuffled down the hall, praying that the nun wouldn't tell anyone. Without any time to lose, she and Dottie hurried down the hall and up the stairway to the outdoors. They skirted through the clearing passed the statue of mother Mary, who eyed them solemnly. Mara could have sworn she caught a smile on the statues face as they rushed into the woods.
As soon as they hit the shadows cast by the trees, Mara let out a huge breath, turning to support herself on the trunk of a tree. There was no turning back.
The sound of lapping waves brought a sparkle to Dottie's eyes and she pulled Mara with her towards the beach.
***
A rust colored leaf parachuted down to the stone floor below to lie among the others in a sea of yellow, orange and red. Izzy's heart caught in her throat as she pulled away from the window. Last year at that same time she had been modeling her new school dresses in front of the mirror, drowning in excitement over her senior year of high school.
"Are you alright?" Francine asked, coming to stand beside her.
Izzy sighed. "I've only been here since June, but I feel like I've been here for years. I'm starting to forget how it feels to be at home. With my family." She turned to the tall girl, whose dark eyes held hers with shared feelings. Her hand fell to the frayed hem of her dress. "I've even forgotten how it feels to wear regular clothes. How it feels to look in the mirror. To put on makeup, and curl my hair."
Francine reached for her hand. "It will all come back to you when you leave this place. When you see your neighborhood and your family. The sisters want to take your identity from you. They want you to feel broken and weak. They feel it's a punishment for what we've done. But, we all have a chance to start over when we leave this place. We just have to make sure we don't let it break us to the point where we can't put ourselves back together."
"Francine, you should write books," Izzy said, smiling. " You have a real way with words."
Francine smiled, closing her eyes for a moment. "My husband used to say the same thing."
Izzy squeezed her hand, turning back to the window. "I never would have made it this far without all of you."
They stood staring out the window for a few moments, watching the leaves spin to the ground.
"I'll miss Dottie," said Izzy in a low voice. "She should be gone by now. They'll be coming here to look for her soon."
Francine put her arm around her. "Are you ready?"
"I'm ready," Izzy said. "Are you?"
"I've been told I'm a fairly good actress," said Francine with a sideways smile. "What about Gloria?"
Izzy frowned. She was nervous about Gloria. The girl was unpredictable. "I hope so."
A sharp knock sounded on the door. Sister Mary Thomas swung it open without waiting for a response. She stood in the doorway, her dark eyes piercing into Izzy's, as if she was extracting her thoughts from her mind.
"Dottie has been reported missing," she said, stepping into the room. She gaze flew to the corners of the room and swept down to the floor under the bed. "Where is she?"
So, a lot of surprises in this chapter. It gives some insight into why Mara is risking her career to help the girls. Do you think Gloria will tell? Hope you enjoyed it!