Emily felt her grief. Hilda was the closest thing to a mother they had had for the past twelve years, for she had raised them since the passerby had deposited them in the orphanage. As they had grown, she had taught them how to knit so they could be self-sufficient. If she hadn’t been a constant presence, Emily was sure their experience at the orphanage would have beenhellish.
“I have been making preparations till ye girls were old enough to leave,” Hilda answered, stepping closer.
Now in better lighting, Emily could see the woman had a satchel in her hands.
“Here, put this on quickly and follow me,” Hilda instructed. “We must leave before we are discovered.”
The sisters rose quickly and rifled through the satchel to find two thick woolen coats, much like the one Hilda was wearing. They donned them quickly.
“If we leave, surely they will ken ye’re behind this,” Elize said, clasping Hilda’s hands.
Hilda was the only person she spared from her abrasive tongue.
“Where do we go, Hilda?” she asked.
“Anywhere but here, lass,” Hilda answered. “If ye stay here, it will swallow ye whole.”
“Oh, Hilda,” she cried. “What will we do without ye?”
“Survive,” Hilda answered sharply, withdrawing her hands. “Now, enough of this. There is a carriage two streets down, parked by the tavern. I have paid a driver to take ye as far away from here as possible.” She reached into her pocket and took out a pouch, which she handed to Emily. “Here’s some money as well to get a room at an inn until ye find yer footing.”
Emily took the pouch and was surprised by its weight. “How?—?”
“I have been preparing for yer departure for a long time,” Hilda answered. “Now, ye must go.”
“Aye,” Emily answered, hugging her tightly as though she never wanted to let go.
When they pulled away, she took off her precious necklace and placed it in Hilda’s hands.
“I cannae keep this, Emi,” Hilda protested.
“I want ye to have it, Hilda,” Emily insisted. “So ye daenae forget us.”
“I could never forget ye,” Hilda vowed. “And I will keep the necklace dear to me heart.”
“Do take care of yerself, Hilda,” Emily cried, hugging her again.
Hilda hugged her back just as fiercely.
“Now, go,” she urged. “The driver isnae patient.”
The sisters nodded. They snuck out of the orphanage and followed Hilda’s directions till they found the hansom she had described.
Sparing one last look at the small town, Emily climbed in after Elize and prayed that wherever they were being taken would be better than the only home they had ever known.
A loud rap on the roof of the carriage startled them awake. Surprisingly, Emily had somehow found sleep amidst the jostling of the carriage.
They looked out the window and found themselves surrounded by trees and foliage.
“Where have ye brought us, sir?” Emily asked.
“Why daenae ye get out of me carriage, and I’ll tell ye,” the driver spat.
“Such a rude little cur,” Elize muttered, but she held her tongue as they alighted.
“Up this road is a castle,” the driver told them. “It shouldnae be so long a walk that ye miss it.”
“And ye couldnae have taken us there?” Elize scoffed.
