“I’ll tell you what happens, then.” She touched my arm before following the others out of the building.
“Daughter?” Father approached with the magistrates, and all eyes were on me. “What did you find when you examined the accused?”
I forced myself to remain calm. “I found nothing.”
The men were silent as they exchanged surprised, concerned glances.
“It will be hard to convince a jury without physical evidence,” Magistrate Corwin said to Hathorne and Father, his voice low.
Hathorne nodded. “Do not fear. We will uncover the devil in each of them and have an abundance of evidence for the grand jury when the time comes. I do not doubt that the devil is afoot here in Salem Village. And it is our job to bring this evil to an end.”
A shiver ran up my spine as the men passed by me without another glance, calling for the accused to be brought to the Meeting House by the guards and constable. In their eyes, the women were already guilty. They just had to prove it.
They stopped near the afflicted and created a sort of barricade around them, pushing aside others who stood in their way. Susannah sidled up to Father, and he gave her a heated glance that made me sick to my stomach. How was I supposed to watch them live as man and wife when I couldn’t even stomach seeing them in the same room together?
And what if she perpetuated the rumors about our mother? I had to find the truth—and Isaac was the only person I trusted to help me.
As everyone departed the ordinary, I approached Isaac. “May I have a word?”
His gaze went to the door Hope had just exited. I had to glance away from the lovelorn look in his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge what my heart already knew. It made me feel lonely in a way that nothing else did.
“Aye,” he said, hiding his impatience, though I knew he wanted to be with Hope at the questioning.
But this could not wait. I looked around the room one last time and saw we were alone.
“What is bothering you?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow.
“There has been talk of my mother,” I told him, my voice low. “Rumors have begun to circulate again, and I am afraid that if they continue, it will put Hope and me at risk.”
“What rumors?”
“Have you not heard?”
“People do not speak to me about you and Hope,” he said. “They know I would defend you.”
His words warmed me, convincing me I had come to the right person.
“They are saying our mother was a witch—and claiming that Hope and I have witchcraft in our blood.”
His lips parted at the accusation. “What doth your father say?”
“He refuses to speak of her. But someone must know. It occurred to me that a midwife must have been present at our birth, and she might know what happened. But we were born in Boston.”
“Ann Pudeator hath been a midwife for decades,” he said. “She came from Boston. Mayhap she knew your mother. Have you thought to ask her?”
I nodded. I had thought of Ann, which was why I neededIsaac’s help. “But she lives in Salem Towne, and I cannot get to her on my own without raising suspicion.”
“Are you asking me to help you speak to Goodwife Pudeator?”
My pulse thrummed. “Will you?”
“I would do anything for you and Hope. I long to make her happy....” He let the statement go, but I knew what he meant.
I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that Hope would never care for him the way he wanted, but that I would love him—did love him—and could make him happy.
It was on the tip of my tongue—but for some reason, I felt like I was betraying Hope by speaking the truth.
And it would be a fruitless confession, since I was not staying in 1692. I couldn’t bear to win Isaac’s love only to lose it when we left.
