The friends finally moved away, and my parents turned to us in a sort of daze until they saw who stood beside me.
My mother’s brilliant blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. Daddy stood straight and stoic, though I knew his heart was breaking.
“Mama and Daddy,” I said as Luc and I stepped closer to them. “This is Lucas Voland—Hope’s friend.”
He glanced at me as a flicker of disappointment passed over his face. Had he hoped to be introduced as my friend, too?
Mama took Luc’s hand in hers, gratitude in her every movement. “Thank you, Mr. Voland, for everything you’ve done to help us. You were a very good and loyal friend to Hope, and we could not be more grateful.”
“I wish I could have done more.”
Daddy took Luc’s hand next. “Nonsense. You’ve done more than most. We are in your debt.”
“You must come to our home for the reception we’re hosting,” Mama said.
“I’ve already invited him,” I told her.
“Wonderful.” She nodded. “Then we’ll expect to see you there.”
He said good-bye and then left the protection of my umbrella to walk out of the cemetery. My eyes followed him as I wondered what I would have done without him after the accident.
Before he turned the corner, he looked back. There was something in his gaze that made me catch my breath.
It was longing—but for what?
For Hope?
After all the mourners left the cemetery, I stepped into a cab with Mama and Daddy to make our way home to Lafayette Square near the White House. We drove down Pennsylvania Avenue as the rain stopped and the clouds began to break apart.
My parents’ orphanage came into view not far from their home. The building was like a second home to me, maintained with love and diligence by Mama and Daddy through the years. It would be devastating to see them lose it.
I didn’t want to add more grief to my parents’ hearts, yet it couldn’t wait.
“Without Hope,” I said, swallowing the guilt plaguing me as I tore my gaze away from the brown-brick building, “we have no way to earn the money needed for the orphanage.”
My parents shared a sad look, and Daddy finally nodded. “We’ve discussed this.”
I couldn’t meet their disappointed gazes. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t exposed Mr. Thurston—”
“We’ve already told you it’s not your fault,” Mama said. “Mr. Thurston is to blame.”
“I plan to return to New York in the morning to speak to him—beg him to reconsider.”
“It’s far too dangerous,” Daddy said, his British accent strengthening with his certainty. “There is no talking to a man like Thurston. He’s wealthy and powerful—and will stop at nothing to take his revenge. You cannot approach him.”
“What will we do, then?” I asked. “How will we save the orphanage?”
Mama put her hands to her temples, and I knew it was too much for her.
Daddy laid his arm around her shoulders and said, “It’s too soon to think properly. We’ll find a way, even if we must solicit donations from a hundred patrons.”
I nodded to pacify him, though they could never raise themoney they needed by going door to door. But the conversation would have to stop for now.
And when I returned to New York, I would speak to Mr. Thurston, regardless of the risks it posed.
“I can’t tell you how much comfort I take in knowing that Hope is still alive with you in 1692,” Mama said, changing the subject.
“She misses you desperately,” I told her.
