“Yes, but I had more space. Here people are too close. I can’t block… It’s difficult.”
I stepped aside from the quiet corner where I was standing. “Move there. I’ll stand in front of you, so you’ll be protected by the walls.” I could afford this small kindness. Just this once.
She looked surprised. “Thank you.”
We switched places, and she stared at me as if I were a hero. If she only knew. As the omnibus rocked and jolted, we didn’t talk. Every time our gazes met, we whipped our heads in opposite directions.
She moved towards the door. “That’s our stop.”
She hurried out, her face tense, and I followed, wishing to say something that would impress her. Another pang distracted me.
The rookery brimmed with people ready to slit my throat, diseases I couldn’t even pronounce, and venomous critters from the sewers. Yet a gardening tool had got me. I didn’t even like gardening.
If I died because of these stupid wounds, I would never forgive myself.
She slowed her pace in front of a marble slab carved with the names of the people who had died during the flu outbreak. There were thousands.
My memories were still fresh. The burning fever, the chills, and the stench of death would haunt me forever.
“So many,” she whispered. “My mama was among them.”
“I’m sorry. My family died as well.” I skimmed the slab. “Father died first, and to think I believed he was immortal. Mother seemed to get better only to get worse. Odette became delirious and died in the fever hospital. I didn’t even attend her funeral. She was buried in a communal grave. I’m the only survivor.” I scoffed. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Why me? My sister was cleverer and kinder than I was. My mother didn’t have a bad bone in her body. My father had worked hard all his life.” My voice cracked. I blamed the infection. It made me soft.
“Alex…” She stretched out a hand, but I moved out of her reach.
The last thing I needed was pity. It was useless. I’d received plenty of it in my life, and I was still starving.
“I talked too much.” I blinked. “I didn’t mean…” To upset you. But I didn’t say that.
Her kindness was contagious, and I wasn’t sure kindness would serve me well in the rookery.
She folded her hands in front of her. “You can hide all you want, but I know you have a good heart.”
I was about to make a joke, but I changed my mind. She was being kind, and her kindness deserved some respect.
“Thank you.” I didn’t look at her.
The last person who had told me I was good had been my mama.
She remained silent as we headed to the hospital. I shoved my hands in my pockets, not sure whether I should say something.
Miss Harlowe exhaled between her teeth when we stepped into St. Mary’s Hospital. The building needed a fresh coat of paint, new stairs, and clean windows. Someone must have bled half to death in the entrance hall where a large brown stain spread across the floor. And the deep scratches on the wooden benches didn’t bode well.
The hall was packed with all sorts of people—wailing, weeping, and sleeping. Two nurses were wrestling with a man who was shouting bloody murder. The smell of carbolic acid mingled with that of unwashed bodies and poverty.
Miss Harlowe’s chest rose and fell quickly as she held something golden in her clenched hand.
We weaved our way through the packed hall to a reception window.
A strong whiff of fresh blood had my head turning. My nostrils flared. The scent was like a balm to my burning throat. I searched for its source. For a split second, my mouth watered, and a wave of sudden anger flared up inside my chest. I wanted to shove all those people aside to find the one who was bleeding and then sink my?—
“Are you all right?” Miss Harlowe stared at me with worry.
I blinked and took a few deep breaths. What the hell was happening to me?
“I need to see a doctor.” I faced the nurse at the window.
“You don’t say!” She scribbled something in a ledger. “Name and reason why you need a doctor.”
