Chapter 14 - The Woman at Saint Agnes
Samuel Pike’s betrayal should have simplified things.
It did not.
The next morning, a package arrived from him.
Inside was a single key and a note.
I am sorry. If I had not given them the map, they would have taken my daughter. The key belongs to Clara. She told me you would know when to use it.
Daniel crushed the note in his fist.
Elena took the key.
“Where?”
Rosa stared at the small engraved number.
“Saint Agnes.”
They returned under darkness.
The key opened a door behind the chapel altar.
A narrow stair led down to a private room built beneath the old sanatorium.
The woman from the garden was waiting.
Clara Ashcroft.
Elena stopped breathing.
Her mother looked at her for a long time.
Then she said, “You have your father’s stubborn mouth.”
Elena started crying.
She hated herself for it.
Clara crossed the room and touched her face.
“I am sorry.”
Elena stepped back.
“No. You do not get to start with sorry.”
Clara nodded.
“Fair.”
“Why did you leave me?”
“I believed William would kill you if he knew I was alive.”
“He lied to me about your death.”
“I know.”
“You let him.”
“Yes.”
The truth was ugly, but at least it was not soft.
Daniel entered behind Elena.
Clara looked at him and went pale.
“Thomas.”
Daniel froze.
“I’m Daniel.”
Clara touched the wall.
“Of course.”
“Is my father alive?”
Clara’s face closed.
Elena saw it.
“You know.”
Clara sat down.
“Thomas escaped with me in 1904. He helped me move the real ledger out of New York.”
Daniel whispered, “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he die at Bridge 47?”
“No.”
Daniel looked like someone had struck him.
Clara continued.
“Thomas went to Europe. He said he could break Halcyon by exposing their foreign accounts.”
“Then why never contact me?”
Clara’s eyes filled.
“Because Victoria told him you were safer believing he was dead.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps using safety to mean abandonment.”
Elena understood that sentence too well.
She looked at Clara.
“Why did you tell me not to trust Rosa?”
Clara stared at the old maid.
Rosa went still.
“Because Rosa did not merely carry messages,” Clara said.
Clara asked to feel the baby move. Elena almost refused. Then she took her mother’s hand and placed it against her stomach.
The baby kicked immediately.
Clara laughed and cried at the same time.
“I missed everything,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
The word was cruel, but Elena would not soften it.
Clara nodded. “I know.”
“Birthdays. Fevers. School. My wedding.”
“I watched the wedding from across the river.”
Elena stared at her. “You were there?”
“I was afraid Halcyon would use me to reach you.”
“You keep saying afraid like it is a complete explanation.”
“It is not.”
Clara withdrew her hand. “I chose the war over you more than once. I told myself it was for you. Sometimes it was. Sometimes fighting became the only thing I knew how to do.”
That confession mattered more to Elena than another apology. Her mother was not asking to be absolved. She was admitting that noble motives could become selfish habits. Elena thought of Victoria, William, Daniel, and herself. Families did not become dangerous only when people stopped loving each other. Sometimes they became dangerous when love became permission to choose for someone else.
“She worked for Halcyon before she worked for me.”
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