The woman in the image stood in front of a nondescript building, its sign written in Chinese characters. Her hair was pinned back, and the shades of gray in the photo hid what color it might have been. But looking at her face was like looking at Florence, like looking in a mirror. She held a round-cheeked baby on one hip. Her other arm hung down so she could clasp the hand of a tiny girl with her thumb in her mouth.
“That’s us,” Vivian whispered. Her voice trembled. “That’s our mother.”
“She looked like you,” Florence said, coming to stand next to her.
“She looked like you,” Vivian said. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Florence’s hand slid into hers, and for a moment they stood there together, greedy eyes tracing every line of their mother’s face.
“I know what we should do today,” Florence said at last. “Since we don’t have to work. I know where we should go.”
“I’d offer to come with you girls,” Danny said, and Vivian jumped a little. She had forgotten until that moment that he was still in the room. “But I’ve gotta put in my hours in the kitchen.”
“That’s all right.” Florence gave him a sweet smile. “This is something we should do just the two of us.”
“Well, us and Benny,” Vivian said, remembering.
Florence frowned at her. “Who?”
The ferry ride to Hart Island had been an odd one, with Benny sitting behind them, awkward and silent, while the sisters clasped hands and braced themselves against the rocking of the boat,both of them still staring at the photograph of their mother. Florence had been unnerved to find out that they needed someone to keep an eye on them, but she didn’t argue.
And now that they were there, he had slipped outside like a shadow, waiting while they went to check the records office to find out which part of the island held their mother’s body.
The clerk frowned when they gave him the year and month and said it would take a few minutes to locate the right entry. He had to pull several old ledgers out of storage, and they waited together, hands still clasped as they watched with eager eyes while he flipped through the pages. They had never visited before. But with the photograph still clutched in Florence’s hand, it felt like they could finally face it. Vivian even felt a flutter of anticipation, almost excitement. Her mother had never felt more real than at that moment.
There would be no headstone for her, of course. There wouldn’t even be an individual grave. But there would be a place, a spot that they could look down on, and know that was where Mae Kelly rested.
“I’m sorry, miss,” the clerk at the office said, his voice recalling Vivian to where she was with a start. “There’s no record of a Mae Kelly being buried here.”
The sisters glanced at each other, and Vivian could see her own confusion mirrored in her sister’s expression. “Do you think you could check another—”
“I checked ’em all,” the man said. He had tufts of hair sticking out around his ears and a bushy white mustache that twitched when he talked. His words were clipped and professional, but his eyes were unexpectedly kind as he shook his head. “I checked the months around it, and the same month the year before. I checked by day and I looked up the name. There’s no record. She wasn’t buried here.” He shut the record book firmly, dust flying from its pages in a little cloud.
“But…” Vivian shook her head, confused. “But where would she have been buried?”
The man shrugged. “Can’t help you there, girls. This is where the unclaimed bodies ended up. If she’s not here…” He shrugged again.
Vivian was too dazed to respond; as if from far away, she heard Florence thank the man for his help. It wasn’t until they were back outside that she spoke.
“Flo, do you realize what that means?”
“I think it means that someone claimed our mother’s body.” Florence was trembling all over. “Which means that someone knew her, and cared enough about her, and had enough money to give her a proper funeral. But not enough to find us.”
“Maybe they didn’t know where to look,” Vivian whispered. “Flo… we have to find out who it was.”
“There’s no way for us to do that, is there?”
“Maybe…” Vivian spoke slowly. “Maybe the place to start looking is at the coroner’s office. And luckily, I know a guy who might help us.” She gave Benny a wave, and he nodded, falling into place behind them as they made their way to the ferry launch. “I’m going to be heading out tonight.”
“But it’s not a night you’re supposed to…” Florence trailed off. “You mean you know someone at the Nightingale who might be able to help us?”
“Leo got me into Bellevue once,” Vivian said thoughtfully. “He might be able to help me out again.”
“All right.” Florence nodded as Benny followed them onto the ferry. There were no other passengers this time—the island wasn’t a popular destination—but he still sat just behind them as it puttered into motion. “I hope you still have a dress I can borrow, because I’m coming with you.”
Vivian gave her a sideways glance. “Are you coming because you want to hear what Leo says or because you want to see Danny?”
Florence didn’t answer, just smiled as she turned to look out the window. And Vivian’s heart gave a little lurch inside her chest as the boat began to take them away.
THIRTY
