A pair of eyes peered out from between the two barrels. It took her a moment to make out the faint outline of a soot-stained face and then the silhouette of a small child. The girl—if it was indeed a girl—sat curled against the brick wall. A tattered stretch of burlap formed a makeshift shelter, and another formed a floor. She clutched a filthy blanket to her chest.
The girl watched her warily, staying very still.
“Hello,” Elswyth said carefully.
The girl said nothing. Her eyes darted to the opening of the alley, over Elswyth’s shoulder. Kehinde started toward them, examining the makeshift shelter, but Elswyth stopped him with a look.
“We won’t hurt you,” Elswyth said.
The little girl retreated farther into the hovel. Elswyth frowned and then extended a hand. She summoned a stem from the veins in her wrist. It sprouted white flowers, which quickly closed and began to swell into fruit. In a moment, the bud became a small green apple. It ripened to red, and she offered it to the girl.
“Would you like something to eat?”
The girl’s eyes widened. Hesitantly, she crawled from her shelter and into the meager light. She took the apple and retreated again, but not so far as to vanish. She bit into the fruit and chewed.
“Is it good?” Elswyth asked, in the gentlest voice she could manage.
The girl nodded. Her face was nearly black with soot, and her clothes were stained beyond repair. An old scar wrapped around her throat, red even beneath the black dust. Elswyth’s heart sank when she saw it.
“You’ve got a scar,” Elswyth said.
The girl paused with her mouth around the apple. Then she nodded.
“I’ve got one, too,” Elswyth said. She pointed to the left side of her face, where her own scar twisted over her cheek.
The girl said nothing. Instead, she finished the meat of the apple and moved to the core. It was gone in two bites, seeds and all.
“May I… have another?” the girl said. She had a Scottish accent, rough but lilting. A coarseness lingered behind her voice, and Elswyth again noted the girl’s throat.
Elswyth smiled. “Of course. You are very polite. What is your name?” Elswyth fabricated another apple into the palm of her hand and offered it to the girl.
“Gillie,” she said.
“Nice to meet you, Gillie. I’m Elswyth,” she said.
Gillie said nothing. She looked warily between Elswyth and Kehinde.
“This is my friend, Kehinde. We’re here looking for someone. Do you think you could help us?”
Gillie looked between them, suddenly suspicious. Elswyth had the impression that apples would keep the girl interested for only so long. Her eyes flickered to the exits of the alleyway again. Her soot-stained fingers twitched.
Elswyth reached into her reticule and produced a silver coin. Gillie’s eyes flashed again.
“If you help us, I will give you another apple, and I will give you this coin. Then I will walk you to the nearest orphanage and pay for your lodging.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Gillie flinched, inching back toward her shelter. “They don’t want me,” Gillie said, “an’ I don’twant them.” Perhaps unconsciously, Gillie’s hand rubbed the scar around her throat.
Elswyth reached into her purse again. “Two coins, then.” She wouldn’t leave the girl there unless there was no other choice, but neither did she want to scare the child away. Gillie looked more skittish by the moment. Her second apple was gone. Elswyth summoned a third apple to her hand and offered it to her. The girl took it and began to eat.
“Gillie, a few weeks ago a body was found here. A woman. In this alley.”
Gillie paused but then nodded.
“Did you see her?”
Gillie nodded again.
“Did you see what happened to her?”
