10
“Are you done, Beth dear?” Mrs. Murphy looked up from her desk. Elisabeth saw that she had shadows under her eyes, and that she’d tried to camouflage them with a thick layer of makeup. Mrs. Miller had whispered at church that Mrs. Murphy was going through financial hardship, that her husband was an alcoholic, that he kept getting laid off because of “the bottle.” Elisabeth hadn’t been sure of what “the bottle” was until she’d seen Mr. Murphy on the street one day, staggering and shouting incoherently at passers-by.
She wondered if Mrs. Murphy ever wanted to disappear into another century. She snuck a quick look at the book she’d laid aside on her desk. It looked like a children’s book.
She understands the urge to hide, Elisabeth thought. If you can’t run, then hide.
“Mrs. Murphy, I’
