Chapter ElevenOnce Matilda and I had greeted one another properly, she told me that Mrs O’Connell was permitted to exercise in Yard Three each morning from five until five-thirty am. Given the cold weather, it was hardly a privilege, but Patrick had assured Samir she would be there every day. He was certain she would already have guessed that was when we would appear.
It was clear from her letters she always knew her husband and son—and Matilda—would not permit her to stay locked up. I wondered, not for the first time, why she had asked Patrick to delay his rescue. What had she been doing all that time? My heart ticked heavily. It didn’t know what we were walking into either. Neither of us liked ignorance. Patrick and Mr O’Connell had their flaws, but I’d always assumed Mrs O’Connell was
