The Baby

Esmeralda was playing with a baby when Malcolm came through the door. Malcolm had a plan for what he was going to say, and how he was going to say it. He just wished he was more confident about it. The chances were low. There was no way someone this beautiful would have gotten through life without dozens of men doing exactly what he was trying to do now. And he wanted her to choose him? The amount of time she spent on him the night before was the only reason he was here now. And yet, he could think of a million reasons she was talking to him, but actually despised him. Not one of them made any sense. 

When he saw the baby, Malcolm wondered whether this was a good or bad sign. A baby would scare a lot of guys off. Maybe she was just a bold woman who decided not to marry the father and that’s why she’s really here. Maybe she wasn’t as used to rejecting men as he thought. He wasn’t sure he could handle this. He had never… And as much as he wanted to be noble about it, the baby was frightening him pretty badly too. Was it too late to go back?

“Malcolm, hi. Can I do something for you?”

She seemed confused. He had just been standing there, hadn’t he? Damn, a new possibility sprung to his mind. What if she was just being friendly and she has a husband? Was she interested at all? Maybe there is some use in keeping up with gossip after all. A smile grew on his face, brought on only by his conscious effort to be pleasant, casual, and not a complete twit. “Hi! Whose is— who is this?” Malcolm sputtered out, nodding towards the baby.

“Oh! Don’t worry, he’s not mine. He belongs to Elga and Murgin. His name’s Ethan.” Wow. All of his explanations now seemed completely ridiculous. He knew that the Bergins’ recently had a baby. It hadn’t even occurred to him. “You want to hold him?”

No, I really don’t. “Ok. Yeah, sure.” He had her hostage now. Or, she had him hostage? He was already nervous enough coming here. The baby really wasn’t helping. 

“So, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see Mr Bergin about something.” (Crap, now I need to think of something to say to Mr Bergin) “But I’m not in any hurry or anything.”

“Murgin’s out of town right now. Maybe Elga can help you?”

“No, it can wait.” (Thank god.) The baby didn’t seem to like him, and chose now to start whining and squirming. Malcolm tried gently bouncing and patting the baby on the back. That’s what you do with babies, right? He casually glanced around, trying not to look worried. This place looked very different empty. And with the daylight coming in through the skylights. This was probably one of the nicest places in Penance. Skylights are fancy, and expensive. Were they difficult to clean? He looked back to the baby. Not helping. Ethan was about to start full-on crying, and he wasn’t sure he could deal with that. Just keep patting his back. It’ll work eventually, right?

”Do you want me to take Ethan back? You both look a bit fussy.”

“I love holding him, but you should probably take him. I’m sure you know how to calm him down better than I do.”

“Yeah, probably.” The way Esmeralda smiled, Malcolm suspected she didn’t believe him. Oh yes, he was being amazingly charming. All he needs to do now is trip over himself and fall on his face. Without a baby in his arms, at least he wouldn’t take anyone else down with him. Maybe he should have kept the baby. Dropping babies is a grand way to get to a woman’s heart.

He sat silently as Esmeralda took care of the baby. Was she feeling as awkward as he was? He shouldn’t have come today. He should have waited. They would have run into each other eventually.

“So, how are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“You’re not as talkative as yesterday.”

“Oh, sorry, let me take Ethan up to Elga and then we can talk.”

“Okay. But I didn’t mean that in a bad way, necessarily. Not that I don’t like you talking, I just—”

“I’ll be right back.”

While Malcolm was downstairs, contemplating how badly that went, Esmeralda was upstairs panicking about how much of a mess she was. She couldn’t point to what was so fascinating about him. He just was. And unbearably adorable too.

Cleaning up.

Esmeralda cringed when she came back inside. She had a lot of work to do. She sighed and picked up a chair back, figuring she should start right away. She looked around the room, as if it would give her the key to carpentry. Elga was standing in the doorway.

“I was just cleaning up after myself. I’ll have the place fixed up before long.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I really should. And I want to!”

“I don’t think you understand. You really shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Do you know how?”

“Of course! I was the daughter… Never mind. You’re right. Murgin won’t be too mad, will he?”

Elga laughed. “I think he’d be surprised if a precious thing like you could stop a bar fight.”

Esmeralda gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore being called a ‘precious thing’. “Why did you let me run things then? On a Friday?”

“Well, frankly, I don’t know if I could stop a bar fight either. They don’t happen all that often, and Murgin needed to go out of town.”

“Sure. I’ll go upstairs then.”

“We can talk, if there’s anything you want to talk about.”

“I’m tired.”

“I just couldn’t stand if you went to bed upset. It really is fine that you didn’t stop the bar fight, you know.”

“You know I travelled here by myself, right?”

“I suppose I could have guessed that. Why?”

“I just want you to understand that I can handle myself, so you don’t need to take care of me.”

“I understand. Now, can we talk about something more pleasant before we head to bed? For me?”

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

“Humor me. Anything interesting happen at the bar tonight?”

“Not really. Spent most of the night talking to someone who wouldn’t even say anything back,” Esmeralda lamented.

“Oh? Who?”

“Malcolm Nessel.”

“Sweetie, it’s not you. He’s not a very talkative person.” 

“Did something happen to him?"

Elga laughed. “Oh no, nothing like that. He’s got a pretty normal life. He’s just always been a quiet boy. I think he’s just self-conscious.”

Esmeralda didn’t believe her. You don’t just end up self-conscious like that. Something had to have happened! But she had to put it aside. Malcolm clearly was trying to move past it, just like her. If someone tried to undo all her work, she’d never forgive them. It wouldn’t be fair to try to do that to someone else.

Malcolm, Part 2

This doesn't feel right to me. It's too... bare, or fast-paced perhaps? It feels like all the information to care about is there, it's just not presented well. Like it's speeding by so you can't get a good look. *sigh *
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“Malcolm? Am I boring you?”

“Sorry, I’m just not used to it. Talking. I don’t talk much to people. Especially new ones.”

Esmeralda grinned. “You’re talking to me though.”

“Yeah. Although really, you’re talking to me,” Malcolm pointed out.

“Then you should talk. Tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“What’s the most exciting thing in the world to you?”

At this moment, the only thing he could think of to say was, “You,” but he felt utterly ridiculous about it.

“I think I like when you talk better,” he decided.

“Ok, what should I talk about?”

“What's Fishery like?" 

Esmeralda put herself as having come from the Middle Ward, trying to fit in with where she would imagine a Bergin relative would be. It was difficult to explain because although Penance had some semblance of social ranking, it was not nearly as cleanly divided as it was in Fishery. 

So, first she told him about the Middle Ward, where business owners, and civil servicemen, like policemen lived. It was also where the maids and servants’ families lived. Esmeralda knew quite a bit about the Middle Ward because Sarah lived there. Of course, she couldn’t tell Malcolm about that. The Middle Ward wasn't as nice as the Upper Ward, where the aristocrats lived, but it was certainly livable. Most of Penance was like the middle ward, with a few parts, from what she's heard, that are like the lower ward. Although that was because the equivalent of the aristocrats here did not actually live in Penance, and there were far fewer of them.

She wouldn't be able to stand living in the Lower Ward, where the working class lived. It was damp and dirty. It was as close as you got to the swamps without leaving Fishery, and she'd often heard about how dangerous it could be there. She told him about how the all the fishing was in the Docks Ward, and you could do all the shopping at the Fish Markets. She actually went on about Fishery, including the differences of living there versus in Penance, for awhile. She hadn't really noticed how much she had to say about it all until she had started talking. She had so much to say that she forgot about the customers, who were now in the starting stages of a brawl. Esmeralda looked, considered, and pulled Malcolm outside.

“You don’t think we should try to stop the brawl?”

“No, no, it’s better this way. If they don’t get it out now, they’ll just go home angry. It’s perfectly fine.” In reality, she didn’t know how to stop a bar fight. She could discourage an individual pretty well with a stab of her dagger, but she didn’t know how to handle this. “Sorry for dragging you out here,” she offered, but he was smiling anyway. A small smile, but most definitely a smile. The sort of smile where his pretty eyes smiled with him. A pretty smile for a pretty face. A rather enchanting face, out here in the moonlight. It was all the moonlight’s fault, of course.

If he had been braver or cleverer at that moment, he would have made an adorably charming comment about how nice the company was, or made some sort of joke. “That’s okay.” 

She smiled back at him, and asked what made him smile. 

He blushed. "Oh, nothing. Well, anyway, thanks for everything. I should be going now." 

With that, he left. Esmeralda wished she could've gotten him to say more, but at least he did not seem upset. She shouldn’t have been so talkative. Maybe next time.

Malcolm

“Es, dear, would you mind handling the bar tonight? Tobin has a fever and I’d like to sit with him.”

“Where’s Murgin?”

“He’s out taking care of some important business. I know you weren’t supposed to, but I’d very much appreciate it.”

She was looking forward to a quiet night with a book she’d just bought. It was the first thing she’d gotten with her own money, that she’d earned herself. A partially fictional account of what the God King might’ve been like as a young man, a hundred or so years ago. Back in the old world, when he had to endure terrible persecution. In the book, he apparently had a sister. She wondered if it was true, and what happened to her. The author got to interview the God King several times for the book. Much of it is fictional, but some of it isn’t. Sadly, the God King would not say which parts were and weren’t true. He said it ruined the artistic integrity of the book to start teasing it apart in such a manner. She wanted to dig into it so badly, but it could wait until tomorrow. She couldn’t say no to the Bergins. “If you’re okay leaving me in charge of the bar for the busiest night of the week, I am up for it.”

“Thank you, Es. You’ll do just fine.”

As she waited for the rush, Esmeralda decided that she would not let this night bring her spirits down. She had been in a good mood that day, and she wasn’t about to let this night bring her down, even if it turned to mayhem. She was ready! She had boundless energy tonight, and she was ready to use it! It was going to be a wonderful night. She had decided.

The crowds came and demanded she give them the means to forget the week for awhile. As it became less hectic and the crowd began to settle in, Esmeralda noticed a young man about her age, sitting by himself, slowly sipping the beer she’d given him. She had seen him before, but never really noticed him. It was unfortunate if he wanted to be alone, because Esmeralda decided in that moment that he would be her entertainment for the night.

She bounced over to his table and beckoned for him, “Come sit at the bar!”

Unsure of how to take this, he waved her off and continued sipping his beer. Esmeralda, not one to be turned down, pulled at his shirt, and insisted that he keep her company at the bar. This, in turn, caused a good portion of his beer to spill. Esmeralda whipped out a rag and apologized as she began wiping.

“Why don’t you sit at the bar while I clean this up, and I’ll get you a new beer in just a second?” She smiled as if she’d been planning this the whole time, and the young man gave in.

Esmeralda more formally introduced herself as she gave him his new beer. When she asked him his name, he looked at her, almost suspiciously, but seemed to decide that this was not a terrible offense. His name was Malcolm Nessel. 

"Now, I may not be the best of company since I still do have to work and it’s a busy night, but it’s not too bad for a Friday and I’ll come back to chat as often as I can. So, how old are you? Are you still in school?" 

No, he just got out of school. He's 17. 

"Oh, what are you going to do now?" 

He fell silent again, so she changed the subject. She started to talk about other Penancians, like Brian Taylor, who seems to start arguments to win them when others tire of him. “I’m still not sure whether he’s incredibly insecure or cocky. Still he gets thrown out regularly. We don’t need non-customers (he’s never bought any drinks) antagonizing customers. But let’s not talk about him. We don’t need to ruin our evening.”

Malcolm said nothing. He simply stared at her, and let her continue to talk, still trying to figure out how he ended up over here. He smiled with what he hoped was encouragement. She was cute, but he wasn’t interested in the people that did and did not annoy her.

Esmeralda suddenly ran away to, as Malcolm saw when he turned around, convince a man who was climbing onto the tables to not do so.

“But… don’t you wanna see the show!?”

Esmeralda wanted to argue, but the cheering of those around her suggested that it’d be better to just leave well enough alone. “I’ll just take your glasses to be refilled, ok?”

“But how will I do my juggling routine?”

Esmeralda refrained from explaining to him that that was exactly the point. It was too bad. Sober, he was an excellent juggler. “You’re an entertainer, James! You’ll think of something marvelous.”

Esmeralda had barely put the glasses down before she was talking to Malcolm again, “That’s James Wellington. He’s quite a character. He—” Malcolm felt he should point out that he had grown up here, while she had only been here for maybe a couple months, but she didn’t seem to give him a chance to say anything. He was fascinated with her, though he couldn’t really say why. She always seemed like a nice enough girl (not to mention extraordinarily beautiful), but tonight she was intriguing, perhaps because she noticed him, or perhaps because she seemed so different from the other times he’d seen her around.

Esmeralda's Work

Back from a long, long vacation. Here's the next part of my first draft of a novel. :-)

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Esmeralda reveled in her new job. It was terribly dull, but it was normal. It was everyday. Not having to worry about siblings that had the whole Upper Ward up in arms, and a mother who did little more than pretend to care was just fine for her. Cleaning dishes, wiping down the floors reminded her of her father, telling her stories, pretending he had a book in his hand to read from. Why it made her think of that, she wasn’t entirely sure. It’s not as though she had ever had to do this sort of work. Perhaps it’s because pleasant times lead to pleasant memories.

Those times were all before she understood the rest of her family. Occasionally she would wonder if her father was like the rest of them. Maybe if she had known him long enough… But she couldn’t believe that. He was her chance at being a normal person. A decent person. If she wasn’t like him, then maybe she was like them after all. Or maybe sometimes children just aren’t like their parents. But no, she knew she was like him. Just like him, and nothing like her mother. And nothing like her siblings. 

Thinking about all this made her realize that she wouldn’t be able to visit his grave this year. At least she wouldn’t have to listen to her mother’s comments about it. Amber never understood why someone would want to do such a thing. Esmeralda loved her, but her mind, and her heart, seemed to work differently. Perhaps it was too broken, but her mother seemed to see no purpose in a good heart.

Her mother would have come up with a plan by now. But Esmeralda, despite her initial resolve, couldn’t even decide if she wanted to come up with a plan. She couldn’t bring herself to end her lovely day-to-day living with a plot of any sort. Thinking past tomorrow was just stressful. At this moment, her mind was firmly settled into the realm of ‘They will not ruin my life or get me killed. They’re not worth it,’ but it was hard to say how long that would last.

What was her mother up to now? With all her children out of Fishery, would she go after them? Or maybe she wanted them all gone. Knowing her mother, Esmeralda knew if she did want her kids gone, it wouldn’t be because it was easiest, but because she had things to do and this worked with her plans. But there was another possibility. She didn’t want them gone, but she didn’t come after them because she didn’t care. It was an annoying little thought that kept trying to push itself to the forefront. Besides, even if it were the case with her or Mary, with the amount of attention she gave Curtis, it was hard for her to believe that she would just let Curtis go. But then, by the time Esmeralda left, her mother didn’t seem interested in finding Curtis. She was annoyed, and frustrated, but not looking for him. Esmeralda had never seen her mother like that before. Was she letting him go, and sulking about it? It seemed so…unlike her. But then, that’s why Esmeralda came, isn’t it? To find her siblings, and bring them back. Whatever she thought of her family, she still had this picture in her head of them coming back together, of being a family again. She knew they were bad for her. They were bad for anyone. She hated herself for wanting to feel connected to them. Even without being there, they could always ruin her day. 

The feeling would pass. Every day, as she spent more time with the Bergins’, she spent less time thinking about them. Each day that went by was one more that there was no contact, where she could relax a little more. And consequently, the Bergins’ began trusting her more. She could have gone her entire life without hearing from any of them again, and she would have been fine. Esmeralda, for the first time in a very long time, was happy.

Elga's Guests

The addition of Esmeralda was not a noteworthy endeavor for Bergin’s Inn. Elga was known for pulling in wanderers off the street. Some were sketchier than others, but Elga prided herself on her judgment of character. This did not mean that she did not take in stragglers who set off her warning signals; every “poor, lost soul” was welcome. 

Murgin was used to this and accepted it, if for no other reason than to have a fairly steady stream of temporary workers. She would tell him about them, and he would get ready to give them a job the next morning. It was a good system. Murgin did not share Elga's enthusiasm for housing and helping anyone who showed any semblance of a problem. He was much more the type to let them be and deal with their own problems. Plus, other people were tiring. He doesn’t hate others, they’re just such a bother sometimes. But he accepted it, his acceptance helped along by what he got out of it. He was grateful enough that he had a wife to do all of the business parts of the inn without him. He hated all of that. The more people they had to work for them, the less time he had to spend on what he didn’t want to do. Elga, for some reason, never wanted to actually hire people, so her projects were a great way to please everyone. Sadly, he still had to act as if he ran the business. Elga was concerned they would lose business if it got out that she did almost all of it. Murgin still didn’t know where she got all of her energy from. He was fine spending the day fixing chairs and spending time with his sons. Elga was always doing five different things in a day. Between the kids, the business and the strangers she brought in, it seemed like it would be too much. But she was happy, so Murgin didn’t question it. Somehow when there was someone new to help, she seemed to have more energy.

Elga would never talk poorly of her “lost souls,” in the hopes that they could be saved and become a good, honest citizen of Penance. Even if they did trust Elga’s vibes about people, her lack of any honest opinion about the strangers made the people of Penance wary of the Bergin’s Inn stragglers. They were perfectly happy to not talk to the people Elga dragged in. They felt no different when Esmeralda came into their lives. Her looks endeared her to certain citizens, but they were still cautious, taking more of a wait-and-see stance. The way Esmeralda treated the people of Penance however, was completely different than what they were used to. Normally, Elga’s new guests were perfectly satisfied with people minding their own business. Esmeralda tried to avoid the prying of others by being the first to talk.

Before any Penancians had the chance to approach her, she had come up with an entire backstory for herself. Each customer that she saw while she was working got a handshake and “Hi, I’m a cousin of the Bergins. I’m new here,” and then back to work. For the talkative, she had a response for every question they asked. She came to Penance from Fishery to spread her wings a bit. She wanted to explore a bit, as well as meet all the family she never knew, and glean some family history. She’d been working on uncovering her family history for awhile, and she was dying for some new data and stories to add to her work. She never found history all that interesting, but somehow when it was related to her, it was thrilling.

Elga considered talking to Esmeralda about her lying, but she couldn’t blame the girl. Elga felt she was making up the persona she wanted to be. Perhaps constantly saying who she wanted to be would prevent her from having to deal with who she is, and what she’s been through. Or maybe she was hoping that putting forth this new person would erase the truth behind it all. Either way, she didn’t want to push her into giving it up yet. As much as Esmeralda was trying to be on her own, she was still a young girl, likely one of the youngest people Elga had taken in. She had to have been barely out of school, or skipped out completely. She certainly looked like she was school age. Elga could not imagine what the poor girl was going through. She needed a comfortable, loving home to be in right now. 

She couldn’t imagine growing up with those siblings either. She was insanely curious what Esmeralda’s parents were like, whether they tried to do something and failed, whether they just didn’t notice, which way they influenced the children. What caused the two children to end up so bad, and why did Esmeralda seem so different? But now was not the time to ask. There may never be a time to ask. 

The influence Elga had on her children was often at the front of her mind, especially when taking somebody in. She wanted to teach them to be kind to everybody, but she was worried about the influence the lost people she tried to help might have on them. And this time, as with every time before it, she decided it was more important to teach her children to be kind and giving.

A job

Esmeralda woke up the next morning with the sudden realization that she would have to start looking for a job. It was a good run, but she couldn’t live much longer on the money she grabbed on the way out of Fishery. It was the only part of being upper class helpful for this journey. She peeked out of her room to see if anyone was around. She liked Mrs Bergin, but last night she came on a bit strong. Esmeralda didn't feel like talking right now. When she got to the bar, Mr Bergin was busily scrubbing down the floor with his kid (she assumed) on his hip, very much looking like he was trying not to look like he was waiting for her. 

“Mornin’.”

With all the people in here last night, it hadn’t occurred to Esmeralda just how large this place was. And the silence was... She could almost breathe it in. Sadly the smell had gotten worse, as the place was now covered in day old beer instead of fresh beer. “Good morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“What about?”

“It looks like I’ll be staying here long term. Or at least, longer than I had anticipated.” (Did I actually expect to reunite with them right away? Not to mention the lack of plan afterwards. Why am I so dumb?) “Do you know where I could find a job to tide me over?”

“As a matter of fact, it would be very helpful to have somebody do more of the menial tasks around here. Gives us more time with the kids and all. What do you think of that in exchange for room and board? The work’s a bit boring but it’s easy. What do you think? And we’ll throw in a bit of cash every once in a while, so you can have a little spending money.”

Esmeralda felt more like they were taking her in as a stray dog than an employee. However, she was not below taking such an offer. “Sounds perfect. When should I start?”

“Now, if you’re up for it. You can start by scrubbing the floor.”

She cringed reflexively, “Weren’t you already doing that?”

“Now I can move onto fixing the chairs that were broken last night.” 

“You do that yourself?”

“As opposed to?”

“There’s got to be someone you can hire to do it. Penance doesn’t have a carpenter?”

Murgin laughed, “Maybe if this happened once. We don’t have the money to pay for other people to keep fixing our furniture. Besides, I’m pretty good at it.”

“Then I’ll get started here.” Esmeralda glanced at the rag she was given with concern. She wasn’t prepared to become the help. Trying to show no hesitation, she dunked the rag into the bucket and then went to work on the floor.

“Esmeralda? You might want to ring that out over the bucket first.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Esmeralda stared at the rag, and then at the floor. As much as she hated the idea of the task, she wanted to do it right. And she would be excited! All she had to do was imagine her excitement, and it would happen. Concentrate. Get it done, be happy with it. She needed to remember to do this more often. She always felt better if she got herself energized about something. Also why, she believed, everything always felt better after a good night of sleep. You need energy to be happy!

“Esmeralda, do you need something?”

“No! No, I’m good!”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I think so. Just to make sure, how do I, uh, dry the floor when I’m done?”

“You can just let it dry by itself.”

“Right, of course. I’ll be done in no time. What should I do afterwards?”

“Just do this, and then come see me.”

Okay, she could do that. “Of course, sir. Will do!”

Murgin had to admit, he could get used to being called sir. But he had never seen anyone so excited over cleaning the floor. “Esmeralda?”

“Yes?”

He wanted to mention her change in mood, but didn’t want to worry about possibly making her feel uncomfortable. Maybe she’ll do a better job this way. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Then your task is to eat when the food is ready.”

“And I’ll work on this in the meanwhile?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Ok, no problem, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“You are very welcome, young lady.” He smiled at her, and walked off. She was an odd one, but he liked her.

Gambini

Elga patted the bed, “Come over here and tell me about it.”

It was dripping with sympathy. Esmeralda was annoyed that she was expected to pour out her troubles on a first meeting. “I don’t think I really want to—”

“Sorry, it’s just me, trying to keep the conversation going. I don’t mean to pry, dear. I just was hoping to get a little background, that’s all! See if there’s anything I can do to help. No need to get into the little bitty personal details.”

Esmeralda kept it as simple as she could. Her siblings ran away, her mom got sad, and she came to look for them. Elga just hugged her and waited. Esmeralda let it happen, unsure what she could do besides push her away, which seemed cold. She considered what she could say when Elga pulled away from the hug, and wondered why the woman smelled like peppermint. When Elga did pull away, Esmeralda was left feeling confused and a bit invaded, but thanked her for the hug anyway.

They sat for awhile before she spoke again, “So, I’ll be heading back once I find them."

“I can help you.”

“I don’t think…”

Elga sat straight up and patted Esmeralda on the back, “No! I insist! We have a great number of connections, and we may as well put them to use.”

“You don’t know who I am. You don’t know if I’m telling the truth, you don’t know if I’m in any way a decent person.”

“I can feel these things.”

She couldn’t tell whether she was being played, or Elga was just incredibly naive. “You wouldn’t want to help me if you knew who they are. I don’t like them much myself.”

“You are not your family. And being worried about them regardless of what they’ve done shows a good person. I won’t judge you based on them, I promise.”

“I guess I might as well. I already mentioned their names to your husband. Curtis and Mary. Both redheads.”

“Oh. Oh, you don’t want to be involved.”

After all that poking and prodding, and ‘you’re so good for being worried’? She wasn’t going to let Elga shut up now. “Maybe not, but if you know where they are, you have to at least tell me.”

Elga looked away, “I don’t know if you…”

“You don’t know me at all! Tell me where they are.”

Elga strained, trying to decide if the fact that this girl deserved the information outweighed the fact that none of it was good news. She came to the conclusion that the child was persistent enough that she’d find out eventually. Why make her go through all that extra effort? “They’re working for the Gambinis.”

Esmeralda closed her eyes and sighed, groaning internally. Oh, wonderful. “Hmm… Can I get a room from you?”

“Absolutely no problem, dear. How long will you be staying?”

“I don’t know. I guess until I find them.”

"Are you sure? You won’t be safe if you get involved with what they're doing."

What exactly were they doing? She didn't actually know much about Gambini. She'd heard the name before, and she often heard about people dying and gossip around it being caused by Gambini family. Of course, not too long ago, Penance was like that for her too. Then again, it was understood even to the this woman, who trusts so readily, that the Gambinis were not people you wanted to get involved with. 

"Yes. Yes, I need to find them. How did you and Murgin find out they're with the Gambinis? Are you sure?" 

She said they had come here with the Gambini son, Marco. 

"Why?" 

"To conduct some sort of business, I assume. We wanted to stay out of it. He introduced us to them, almost as a notification that these were his people. I think they're in too deep for you to get them out, sweetie, and we can’t help you with this." 

Esmeralda closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She felt like her whole body was moving but realized it was only her heartbeat. She was stuck. There was no win for her. She should be used to this by now. Story of her life, as they say. “Goodnight then.” 

“Wait, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it more?”

“Talk about what?”

Elga knew she should let it be, but she couldn’t. “How you feel, maybe more detail about what happened?”

“No, not really.”

“You need to. You can’t let it eat you up inside.”

“Maybe later. Can you just leave me alone for now?”

“Sorry, yes, of course.  I’ll just get you a room.”

Meeting Elga

So, I kinda suck at this experiment. But I'm working on it. Here's what I had intended to post yesterday.

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Esmeralda ducked into the closest exit, which was a door leading upstairs. She hoped this wasn’t a private area. The noise of the bar was still present, but had faded to a muffled background noise, for which Esmeralda was grateful. She pulled down her hood, and walked lightly upstairs.

“Hi!” came an ebullient voice suddenly, nearly knocking Esmeralda down the stairs. “You know, you don’t have to sneak up.”

Esmeralda slid her hand to her hip, ready to pull her dagger. “Just felt a bit awkward. And trying to get away from, “ Esmeralda nodded at the brawling sounds. The woman smiled and nodded her acknowledgement. “Does this happen a lot?”

She shrugged, “Once or twice a month. Come up, come up.”

Esmeralda stared at her for a moment, not sure what to think of this lady, “Um, I’m fine here, thank you.”

 “Dear, there’s no need to sit on an uncomfortable old staircase. I just wouldn’t feel right leaving you here when you’re so clearly shaken.”

Esmeralda opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it in the end. 

At the top of the stairs was a tidy little desk with two lanterns on it. A large window let the moonlight in by the desk. There was another window at the end of the longer of two hallways, and she could see light pouring out beneath a few of the doors. It smelled like wood and the night air. It was a crisp air, or at least crisper than Fishery ever got. Letting the dry air flow into her nose, Esmeralda could almost taste the leaves of fall. It was extra refreshing after the stuffy, stagnant air of the bar. 

The woman put out the lanterns as she beckoned for Esmeralda to follow. She was lean, though she had a round, not quite chubby face. As she moved, she gave the impression that her body has and will always be moving, not so much for the sake of moving as the need to be busy and productive. Esmeralda wondered if someone had planted the soul of a squirrel with the enthusiasm of a puppy into the woman. 

 They walked into the shorter hall where Ms Squirrel unlocked one of the rooms, and invited Esmeralda to please be comfortable as she lit a lantern and closed the door. The entered a relatively plain bedroom, although it did not feel like it was meticulously laid out to be that way like the downstairs was. Messier than she’d expected. The bed was unmade, the floor was not even fully picked up. One thing she could say for the room, was that despite the mess, it smelled lovely. And she could see why. There was a bowl of dried flowers on each nightstand. Still, Esmeralda was surprised Ms Squirrel would let her in here. Grabbing the closest chair, she decided it was probably best not to get “Ms Squirrel” stuck in her head as this woman’s name.

“Thank you for the hospitality, but, umm, who are you?”

“Oh, goodness! I apologize. Introductions, yes. I’m Elga Bergin. And you are?”

“Esmeralda, um…” New name, or real name? “Hill. Esmeralda Hill.” She twitched a bit, but she felt there was no good reason to be lying about that. Besides, it might be easiest to explain if she was looking for her siblings, assuming they kept their names post-Fishery. “What should I call you? Mrs. Bergin or Elga?”

“Elga, please. And I’ll call you Esmeralda?”

“Okay.”

“Wonderful! At least for now. Hopefully, as we get to know each other we can give you an appropriate nickname. Perhaps ‘Es’ or ‘Mer’. No one deserves to be saddled with a four syllable name.”

Esmeralda shuffled a bit in her seat. ‘As we get to know each other? Does she think I’m taking up residence in Penance?’

“I’m not planning to stay in Penance for very long.”

“Yes, sorry, sometimes I get ahead of myself. But I assume you wanted to stay at least until Murgin kicked all the brawlers out?”

“Murgin was the bartender? I talked to him a bit, but then the fight broke out. We never really introduced ourselves to each other.”

“Oh yes, Murgin Bergin. He’s also my husband and owner of this establishment. Speaking of the fight, where are you from, and what are you doing here? Travelers aren’t usually bothered by bar fights.”

Esmeralda took a moment to think over how to say this without getting kicked out. Having already mentioned her siblings to her husband, outright lying was not a feasible option. “Fishery, and I’m worried my brother and sister are in trouble.”

Day Nine - Bergin's Inn

The tavern, Bergin’s Inn, was different than the others Esmeralda had been frequenting. True, it was still loud and just the smell alone was intoxicating, but there was also a warmth about it. It was dusted, cobwebs were cleared away, and the wood was a soft, comforting burnt orange, almost the same color as her hair, under the glow of the lanterns, which looked to be painstakingly placed to give off the perfect amount of light. Somebody clearly put a lot of time and thought into setting it up. It wasn’t gorgeous. It had a feel of a place designed to be dull, unremarkable. If there weren’t so many drunkards, it might be a nice place to sit and think. 

From the number of people, and the average level of inebriation in the room, she suspected it was the end of the week. Unless Penancians are just alcoholics, which was a distinct possibility. Perhaps she should have been keeping track of the days. 

Esmeralda made her way through all the merriment to the bar, feeling the night’s nectar, already starting to get sticky, against her shoes. The barkeep didn’t seem to be any more enthralled with the festivities of the night than she was. He was preoccupied with organizing everything behind the bar. “What’ll you have?”

She leaned in, hoping that she could drown out the raucous sounds of a busy inn with her thoughts and a conversation. She wasn’t hopeful. “I’m looking for some information, please,” she shouted.

“Sure thing.” He shuffled a few bottles around before realizing that ‘some information’ was, in fact, not a drink. “Sorry, long day. What can I do for you?”

Esmeralda was finally in Penance. If she couldn’t find anything out here she didn’t know what she would do next. Maybe she’d give up, but where would she go then? No, this is where they said they were going. She heard Mary tell Curtis that. And Mary was never one to hide. 

Esmeralda lowered her hood and took a deep breath. She just needed to start talking and get it out. He probably wouldn’t know anything, but she’d find that out soon enough. “I’m looking for a couple of teenagers,” she began, practically yelling to make sure he heard her over the noise while holding up two fingers. If she’d thought of a gesture for teenagers, she would have used it, but she made up for that lack of overcompensation by overemphasizing the nouns. She didn’t want to have to say anything twice. ”A boy named Curtis, and a girl named Mary, both with red hair.” (Stroking her hair) “Last time I saw her, the girl’s hair was a bit past her shoul—”

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“You’re not dressed to be a guard, and spies are usually a bit more subtle than that. Why do you want to know about them?”

Esmeralda could feel her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. Shit. She knew something like this might happen, but what exactly were they involved in now? They were going to get her arrested or killed. She tried to concentrate on breathing normally and keeping her voice from shaking, “They’re already in trouble? How much could they have done?” She knew she had taken far too long in traveling here.

“I honestly don’t know if you’re playing dumb or not, but I’ll say this—”

They were interrupted by unintelligible yelling and a chair being thrown across the room. The barkeep sighed and went to take care of it. He could certainly look intimidating when he wanted to. Esmeralda, as always, was not interested in being present for a bar fight. To think that she thought it was too loud before it started.

Day Eight

And so it went, going from town to town, learning how to defend herself and discovering what it really meant to live on her own. Despite having to give herself the daily encouragement, Esmeralda was surprised to find herself actually making it through. As long as she avoided trouble and kept her dagger handy for when it found her, she didn’t seem have any problems. She didn’t have to use it terribly much. Looking like she knew what she was doing was enough most of the time. Not an easy task for a less than confident girl from a rich family. Esmeralda figured that as long as she could make it through the first few stumblings of the trip, the rest would work itself out. 

She practiced in the taverns, hoping that slowly, she’d feel better about all of it. She’d have made sure the guards were there in case anything went wrong, but for the moment she was ignoring the existence of guards. She still felt a natural inclination to respect authority, but had not resolved that particular internal crisis. And anyway, the practicing just involved sitting down with a drink, pretending like she wasn’t out of place and she did this all the time. She really wanted more feedback than ‘Nobody tried anything with me.’ She suspected that it was good for her anyway. ‘Just remember,’ she told herself, ‘that I have a dagger, and I can use it if necessary.’ She never felt she really got the ‘Don’t mess with me’ vibe down, but she did start to feel comfortable. After the incident, her heart would be racing, and she’d be vigilantly watching every individual she came across, wondering if one of them might want to hurt her. Now she could sit back, sipping her beer slowly as the night went on. It was even relaxing.

Soon she started taking on personas as she thought of them, although her favorite was the mysterious stranger type with a deep dark secret. Not her actual secret of course. A secret that would say that she’s been around, seen things, gotten into trouble. A secret that would make her pull the cloak over her head such that her face was bathed in shadow, pretending to ignore everyone while being attentive to make sure “that person” didn’t come to get her. Or maybe she was running from the law! Who knows? That’s the point of the mysterious stranger. It allowed her to entertain herself, and do nothing else, besides enjoy her beer—well, enjoy was too strong a word. Tolerated. She chose beer because it seemed least likely to make her stick out. She was getting used to it, slowly (both the beer and the world). 

The only people who insisted on bothering her were drunks or unusually creepy men. With drunkards, it was easy to push their interest on to someone else, generally in a way that would cause fights she could sneak out of. With creepy men, she had no problem putting a dagger in their thighs. She certainly wasn’t going to be at the end of a strange alley by herself with no protection. She was alone while she was in a room she paid for, and on the path to Penance, but that was only during the day. Sometimes the villages were just too far apart for that, but there were always at least outposts for the guards. She tried passing one by; she ended up sleeping the day away once she got to a village, after nearly collapsing on the road. She was never going to do that again. 

Slowly the towns became less sketchy and more welcoming, and it was the path that worried her. The path through the swamp was more heavily guarded, because of the wild natives. Once she was out of the swamp, it was her and the wild animals. The breeze was welcoming at the day’s warmest, but quickly became too chilly and crisp for her taste. The forest was so much colder than what she’d been used to. There was also the new sounds. Particularly the relaxing rustling of the wind through the trees. It was an entirely new world, being in a forest. Fishery didn’t contain much in the way of trees, and certainly not this majestic. It was stunning, and if she wouldn’t get so lonely, she might consider staying out here after learning a bit more about it. She wrapped herself in her cloak as tightly as she was able, and continued, trying to go a bit faster now. It was starting to hit sunset before she found shelter. Either the outposts were getting further apart, or she was slowly plodding along. She was worried soon she would not be able to find any before she needed sleep. 

She tried to distract herself with better, happy thoughts. When she had been thinking about how close Penance must be (a thought she had been having regularly for the last week or two, having lost track of how far along she was, and determined it wasn’t important enough to ask someone), Esmeralda looked up and learned that it was night. She noticed the sun was starting to set, but she could have sworn she had more time. She looked for lights to tell her a village or outpost was coming soon, but the path curved, and the trees were too dense to see what was ahead of her. 

She tried not to worry (an outpost couldn’t be that far away), but it wasn’t long before she heard a howl. She kept her dagger ready, but she wasn’t confident that her knifing skills could take down a pack of wolves. Wolves weren’t a big problem for the caravans, were they? Maybe the path wasn’t in their territory. Isn’t that how wolves work? Maybe? Esmeralda regretted not paying attention in school whenever they talked about nature. She moved toward the side of the road as she walked, in case she suddenly needed to climb a tree. Eventually her paranoia got the best of her and she started to sprint. It didn’t last very long. She caught her breath and settled for walking really quickly, hoping to see lights soon. It took forever (fifteen minutes) before she saw any lights, and she started running.

She had completely exhausted herself by the time she got to the village, falling asleep as soon as she got herself a room. She considered staying for a day or two to relax in a nice, locked room, but in the end decided that she wanted to get to Penance and stop traveling. In truth, she was not in as much danger as she suspected. Not only do many animals tend to avoid people, the ones that don’t would not go anywhere near Esmeralda. People don’t have the sense to tell these things, but anything in the woods knows not to approach anything like her. 

Esmeralda kept moving until she finally reached a gate to a big city that could have only been Penance. She knew it wasn’t as big as Fishery, but Fishery felt like ages ago. Now, she was here, and there was this grand wall that disappeared into the trees (she was glad when she got out of swamps and into real forests), with a small river running alongside it. Past the gate she could see a full tavern, and looking down the streets, she could see all the wonderful shops that were closed for the night. It was exquisite. She had missed being in a big city. The voices of her schoolmates telling stories about the dangerous Penancians echoed in the back of her mind, but that was a different time, when nothing bad had ever happened to her. Nothing dangerous, at least. Perhaps because she lived in the Upper Ward, perhaps because people knew who her siblings were and thought they might protect her. But she still patted her dagger for her own comfort as she went through the gates of Penance, and put up the hood of her cloak on the way into the popular tavern.

Day Seven

As Esmeralda’s consciousness crept back, she lied staring up at the stars for a few moments. It was incredibly relaxing. She felt so happy, staring up at at those little lights in the night sky. The longer she stared, the more it seemed like they were dancing. Not the exciting, thrilling sort of dance, but a gentle dance, where they really weren’t moving at all. She could feel their stillness. And every twinkle went straight to her heart. She was content. More content than ever before. The stars were shining brightly, while everything else was dark. Why was everything else dark? Esmeralda snapped fully back when she looked to see where she was, and what took place earlier that evening flooded her memories.  She jumped to her feet, and ran back to her room at the inn, passing a trio of guards playing cards.

Taking stock of herself, she wasn’t badly injured. Her hands and knee were scraped, and she was frazzled, but she felt fine otherwise. Her clothes were a bit dirty, but only ripped where she had scraped her knee. She had all her clothes. It seemed unlikely that her clothes would still be on if he’d done to her what she’d been expecting. I mean, he wouldn’t put them back on, right? They would at least be mussed up. Then again, it also seemed implausible that she’d still be alive. She already saw he didn’t mind killing. She checked her pouch, and she had all her money too.

It didn’t make any sense. She had fainted. You can’t get any more defenseless than that. He was in a position to take whatever he wanted from her. Why did it seem like he hadn’t done anything to her? Maybe someone scared him off. Someone that would have gone through the trouble of scaring off an attacker, but not help the woman being attacked? Why would she wake up exactly as she was when she fainted? Maybe the less-than-stealthy assassin suddenly had something more important to do. She had the fleeting thought that she might have been hallucinating, but it was not a thought she could entertain. She couldn’t even begin to guess where to go, or what to do next if she was going crazy. Maybe she should just consider herself lucky and not worry about why she was okay now. 

Once she had calmed down, she remembered the guards and marched out to where they were playing.

“A man attacked me tonight!”

Not one of them looked up from their cards.

“Are you going to do anything?”

The guard closest to her sighed, put down his cards, and looked her in the eye. He looked like a soldier, maybe even a captain, with his big ugly square face, and his dark rough beard. She took a few steps back, startled (having an unhappy guard stare you down will do that). He asked her if the man was a native.  Esmeralda was puzzled by this question, but answered, “No…”

“Then it isn’t our job. Our job is to stop smugglers, protect cargo, and keep out the savage natives, which if you ask me, is all of them, but the empire considers some more civilized than others.”

“But he—”

“Not. My. Problem. Look, we’re off duty as it is. We’re all tired, and we don’t want to be doing somebody else’s job. All we want to do is cards, and then bed.”

“Whose job is it?”

He shrugged and went back to playing cards. Esmeralda hated the swamp. She dragged herself back to her room, locked the door, and tried to sleep. It was impossible. The more she tried to get comfortable, the less it worked, and the longer she stayed awake, the harder it was to stop thinking about the events of the night, and to stop her imagination from running wild with ideas of what could happen to her if she did fall asleep. All she could think about was that man, who was either still out there, or never existed in the first place. Why wouldn’t the guards help her? None of the explanations she could come up with made her any more safe, or less alone. She stayed in bed until she had enough energy to move on the next morning. She wasn’t sure if she had slept at all. (She had, if only for short periods here and there.)

She considered going back to Fishery. She didn’t like her family, but she could finish her last year of school, get an apprenticeship and never concern herself with her family again. Perhaps she could take her time and find some sort of caravan on their way to Capitol. She heard that’s a wonderful place to live. She thought on this as she procured a knife (which was actually a dagger) and a cloak for herself, useful for whatever she chose, since she would have to spend at least one more night in the swamps. But confronted with the decision, she began moving forward to Penance. She was certainly not going to let this get the best of her. She absolutely was not going to let her mom know she’d failed at the one thing she took the initiative to do herself.

She did, however, need to be less careless. She had no idea how to take care of herself, that was obvious. She cursed herself for believing that the fear and worry she felt was all in her head. But she could do this. She just had to concentrate, be confident, and practice. Upon her arrival in the next village, which for the life of her, she could not tell apart from the first two, Esmeralda wasted no time in getting to a room where she could practice using her new knife.

Out, in, out, in. The first step was getting it out of its sheath quickly, without hurting herself and most importantly, without dropping it. Gripping objects should be a basic human function, something you get the hang of as a toddler, so she found it amazing how easy it was to fumble the blade. Sometimes after arming herself particularly quickly, Esmeralda would reward herself with a few swishes. Over the next few days, it was more of the same, slowly progressing towards practicing slicing and stabbing the bedframe, which was beat up enough that a few extra notches didn’t change its look.

Esmeralda's Journey

1. Esmeralda leaves home
   
2. Esmeralda finds trouble
   
3. Starting over
   
4. Practice
   
5. Bergin's Inn
   
6. Meeting Elga
   
7. A Job
   
8. Elga's Guests
9. Esmeralda's Work
   
10. Malcolm
11. Malcolm, Part 2
    
12. Cleaning Up
13. The Baby

Lindsey's Rebellion

1. Meeting Nathaniel and Lindsey
   
2. Brian and Lindsey discuss her future
   
3. Lindsey prepares to tell her parents (I accidentally titled this as Day Three at first, so the URL says day-three, even though it's Day Four)

Day Five/Six

 Oops, I forgot to post yesterday. I've been editing my book some more. I'm not sure about where this section leaves things. I don't want it to feel like a random incident in the book, but the larger explanation for it doesn't come until much later. Does it feel out of nowhere to you?
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 Esmeralda opened her eyes the next morning to find she had slept comfortably and soundly. She looked around, but nothing looked different from when she had gone to sleep. She didn’t know what she had been expecting to happen. She was starting to think there was anything to be worried about. ‘All in my head,’ she repeated to herself. Once she was on the path again, she began to relax. She really was doing this. She left Fishery, and she was on her own. 

When she got to the next town, there was about an hour of daylight left. Esmeralda went to the local inn, got a room, and went directly upstairs to relax until tomorrow. She lied on the bed, staring at the ceiling. There wasn’t much to do besides letting the time go by, and think. She went into her bag and pulled out her dinner, some salted meat. ‘I can’t believe this is going to have to pass as my dinner,’ she considered broodingly. She nibbled at it, watching out her window, waiting for the sun to go away so she could sleep and start again the next day. She knew this journey might be dangerous, but she hadn’t considered how boring it’d be at times. 

It wasn’t long before she wanted to check out the town. If she was looking for her siblings, she was going to have to do more than travel and sleep. The only thing to decide was whether she should do more than travel and sleep right now. She was unlikely to find them here, after all. She heard them. They were going to Penance. And they left over a week before she did. Although as Esmeralda questioned herself, she began to see it was because she was worried. The inn felt very sketchy, and the room was not well kept. Eventually, she convinced herself that she should be more adventurous because she wasn’t going to find her brother and sister if she wasn’t brave enough. 

Perhaps it was because she was accustomed to the noises of Fishery, but the town seemed exceptionally quiet. No dogs barking, no chatter. She was also surprised how nice the town looked. They didn’t look expensive, but rather like normal looking cabin type houses with nothing decorative, but nothing wrong either. The inn certainly didn’t reflect this. Perhaps they just don’t like visitors here. It was a tiny place, so it didn’t take her long to see the town. Feeling a bit cheated out of a good walk, and wanting to avoid going back to the inn, she decided to explore a bit more in depth. Esmeralda walked along the large wall at the back of the town. She’d assumed it was to keep out the swamp natives, until she came across a narrow pathway in the middle. For someone who was so worried about leaving the inn, it might seem surprising that the girl never considered the possibility that she might not want to come across whatever was on the other side of the wall, but paths are meant to be followed. The burning curiosity of why this pathway was here and where it lead to pushed out the thoughts of whether or not she wanted to find out.

On the other side of the wall seemed to be the majority of the town, though much more run down. There were many shacks, and even some tents. There were more people around, but they all seemed to only be out in order to get somewhere else. These were probably the people who worked for the people who could afford real houses on the other side of the wall.

As she was reaching the edge of the town (the real edge of town this time), she thought she heard someone yelling. She started walking towards it before her mind had a chance to make a decision. ‘It probably wasn’t even real. I’m sure I just imagined that. It’s just that it’s gotten dark.’ She stopped and started backing away, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. ‘It’ll make me feel better just to see… I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Unfortunately, as she moved closer, it didn’t go away. It turned into a man, pleading with someone. She couldn’t hear what was being said, just the begging and sobbing of a broken man. Her mind tried to convince her to go back. ‘Pretend you never heard anything. It’s none of your business. He probably deserves it.‘ And yet her feet kept moving forward. She saw the man as he was collapsing to the ground. More importantly was the man standing over him with a sword (or a knife, she wasn’t entirely sure). 

‘RUN. Run now!’ Her feet were ready to obey her now, but didn’t get the message before the man turned around to see her. She ran as fast as she could. He was faster. He tackled her and held her to the ground.

“What did you see?”

“Maybe next time you should do private things in private.” He pulled her head back by the hair and a knife appeared in front of her throat. ‘Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m so stupid. Did I really say that out loud?’ “I…I meant nothing! I heard nothing, I saw nothing! All I meant by it was… if you’re concerned about what I saw, maybe you could benefit from some more, uh… discretion?” This wasn’t going to work, was it?

“Who’s asking about me?”

“I don’t even know who you are!”

“I’m nobody. And who the fuck are you?”

“Just a random girl, I swear! I don’t know anything! I was just coming through town and I thought I’d look around. Please, I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit. No one looks around town. Only two kinds of people come back here. Which kind are you?”

“I—I swear I don’t know! Please. I was just all cooped up in the inn, and went looking around. It was dumb, I know, but please don’t hurt me.”

Esmeralda held her breath as she waited for the man to answer. He was taking his time to consider her story. She closed her eyes, trying to think of any way that the decision of whether she lives or disappears into the afterlife could lie with her instead of this man. But what could she do? She could barely move. So she began begging in her head. Silently praying and begging, to no one in particular, for her life. 

The knife disappeared and Esmeralda was flipped over. The man’s face had clearly been on the wrong side of a blade before. He smiled a revolting smile, took his dirty, bloody hand and gently rubbed her cheek. “That’s okay, beautiful. I understand. You still put me in a bad position, my love. Now, you understand that, don’t you?” She nodded frantically. “It would, however, be a shame for such a beautiful creature to leave this world, especially like this.” A kiss on the cheek. She felt as though she were being kissed by the swamp itself. “Perhaps we can work something out.” Oh, no. No no no. A kiss on the neck. He lingered. She closed her eyes. Was this really happening? ‘Just think. You can get out of this. Maybe I can… God, I can’t breathe. Concentrate on breathing. Just breathe. Am I breathing yet?’ She felt lightheaded, and the last thing she felt before passing out was his hand pressing against her chest.