“It’ll be pretty hard to see that wife of yours without one of these, won’t it now?”
It will and it won’t. Gilbert can write a new pass any time he wants. What he can’t do is convince Kemp to let up on him.
“This is for not staying put,” Kemp says as he rips the pass into pieces.
Gilbert should have known that if Kemp didn’t like those two actors calling him a hero, he was never going to put up with Gilbert receiving the acclamations of an entire city.
“And this,” says Kemp, kicking him once and then twice in the ribs, “is for not knowing your place.”
Gilbert closes his eyes, trying to picture Kemp’s reaction if Phyllis Johnston had arrived on his doorstep, offering to buy his freedom. He was right to believe it would never have worked.
SATURDAYDECEMBER 28, 1811
SALLY
Sally has slept for three,maybe four hours on the floor beside Margaret’s pallet, when she is awoken by the sound of something crashing to the floor above her head.
She jumps to her feet and flies up the stairs, sure that Mr. Scott has tried to get out of bed and failed doing so.
Sally ignores the ruckus coming from the other side of Maria Price’s door until she is standing at the foot of Mr. Scott’s bed and has confirmed that he is sleeping peacefully.
“I don’t understand,” comes a man’s voice from down the hall. Elliott’s.
Maria’s voice is quieter, less distinct, and Sally has to move out into the hall to hear it. “I told you everything,” the girl whimpers.
“Tell me again.”
“Elliott, what possible good is this doing?” asks their mother, who must have stayed the night.
Elliott tells his mother to be quiet. “Maria, continue. You were in Blair Hayley’s arms.”
His sister is crying, and Sally can’t—for the life of her—figure out why Elliott is pressing her so hard. And at this time in the morning. Sally doesn’t wear a timepiece, but she’d be surprised if it is yet six o’clock.
“He carried me out of the theater and onto the green.”
“And then what happened?”
“There were people everywhere, and the sky was so orange.”
“Keep going.”
“To what end?” says their mother.
Elliott ignores her.
“This is difficult for her,” Mrs. Price continues.
Elliott laughs. “For all of us, Mother.”
Sally screws up her face. Forallof us? As far as she knows, Elliottwas safely ensconced at home while his sister was inside the theater, fighting for her life.
Maria forges ahead. “Mr. Hayley stopped briefly to shout something at someone, and when he spun around, I caught a glimpse of the theater, which looked like the mouth of hell.”
“A little less hyperbole, perhaps?”
“You want to know what I saw, and I’m telling you that it wasn’t of this world.”
“All right, fine. You saw the gaping mouth of hell,” says Elliott. “Now continue.”
