NineteenThe candle shaking in Bridget’s hand sent a trembling reflection over the wall leading down. She went slowly, her nerves telling her to turn back even as her heart pushed her on. She’d ask Mum why they’d left her. Had it been the cost of another ticket, the uncertainty of finding housing? Had they not believed she’d have willingly gone hungry, slept on any floor, just to have stayed together? To have felt wanted.
She stopped at the bottom of the staircase, looking down the long, empty hall and taking a moment to gather her will. She would not give into childish fears.
Lily’s door began to open. Bridget blew out her candle and watched in the dark as Lily stepped from her room, holding a lit candle of her own. She wore a floor-length cape, its hood drawn up, and her face veiled. Th
