Page 65 of My Darling Girls

Jo nods, unable to produce a word.

Sally starts to slowly turn away but pauses, her gaze lingering on the door and the hallway beyond. Her head tilts again at the broken angle, but she doesn’t try to correct it anymore. She fully turns to the wall behind her, stepping into the white mist and through the rip between the worlds.

“Well.” When Sally’s gone, Jo looks at the girls over the camera. “We’re done.”

There’s a movement by the door. Grace smiles at Jo and looks down pointedly at the small wooden black box in her hands, mouthing, “Let’s go.”

They walk briskly along Dearborn Street in the direction of Marshall Field’s department store. They don’t speak until they catch a cable car. When they take their seats, Grace reaches out to Jo and squeezes her hand. Her fingers are shockingly strong.

“Thank you.” Grace draws a quick breath. “It didn’t take too long to find it. It wasn’t in the wardrobe. I didn’t even find any secret compartments there. It was empty. Ada must’ve thrown away Sally’s things. Her dresses are gone. Like she never existed.” Grace turns away from Jo, and Jo’s heart twists. She knows the pain—raw and agonizing and obliterating—that comes with loss way too well. “It was under the floorboards. I was standing in the middle of the room, thinking where to look, and out of nowhere this thought came to me. Check the floorboards under the bed. It was like a whisper. And then I remembered Sally telling me that the best hiding place is under her bed. I should’ve started there, but I forgot.” She looks down at the box in her lap, her fingertips skimming lightly over its wooden surface. “How did you do?”

“All right, I guess. Ada wasn’t nice about it, but I managed.”

“It was easy, wasn’t it? This whole thing. I don’t know what I expected, but it went well.”

“Too easy,” Jo says slowly. “It was too easy. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Grace shrugs. “It worked. That’s all that matters.”

“Did you notice that Hank wasn’t there? I don’t think he was in the house. He must’ve left right after we came.”

“Thank the Lord. I can’t stand him. He gives me the creeps. Sally told me when he drinks, he gets rough with the girls. He’s awful.”

“I find it odd. He should’ve been there. Isn’t he supposed to guard the place?”

“You seem to be bothered by his absence. I’m definitely not.”

“Well, think about it. One moment he was there, telling us we couldn’t come in. And the next, he was gone. Didn’t even check on us. Didn’t ask Ada if she needed him.”

“Maybe he had something else to do. I don’t know. It ended well, didn’t it?”

Has it really ended? Jo isn’t convinced. If anything, with every breath she takes, the fear settles deeper and deeper inside her. “He wouldn’t just leave. I suspect Ada sent him away.”

“Where?” When Jo doesn’t reply, Grace regards her for a long moment. Then she pales. “Ira,” Grace says. The sound of his name is the menace itself. “She sent Hank to Ira to make sure he asked you to take those pictures.” Grace eyes darken into a stormy blue. Her shoulders sag. “Oh god. Ira knows. He’ll tell Mother.” The words come tumbling out. Grace, wide eyed and breathless, is stricken by fear. “I don’t think I should go home. Can I stay with you tonight?”

“I don’t think we should stay at my place.”

“Where would we go?”

The thought that planted itself firmly in the back of Jo’s mind pushes itself to the front. Pulsing and rushing. “We must go to the train station.” August tried to help Sally. It means he wanted to help Grace too. Perhaps, with August gone, it’s now Jo’s responsibility to help those in need of help. She promised herself she’d start with Grace. She must get the girl out of this wretched city and to the place where she was meant to be with Sally. The plan is unsettling, and Jo is terrified to think about it fully and what it would mean if she and Grace acted on it. But neither of them has a choice. Grace needs to get away from her family and the impending wedding. There’s nothing holding Jo in Chicago—no attachments, no one who needs her, no one she needs.

Finn.

His name dances on the tip of her tongue, warm and clear. His face floats to the surface of her thoughts, and her heart aches. No, she cannot allow her feelings to cloud her judgment. She did it once, and what good did it do?

And so, Jo straightens her back and says, “We’ll get on the first train out of town, and hopefully in the direction of Omaha.”

“Omaha?”

“Remember what the girls told us about a woman who takes in people in need of help?”

Grace chuckles bitterly. “A mad witch?”

“If August was sending the girls there, it means he trusted that mad witch. He knew the place was safe.” Jo turns to Grace. “Would you rather be home with your family and marry Finn or have a fresh start somewhere else?”

“Sally must’ve trusted August. In the box, there’s an address in Omaha written on a piece of paper in Sally’s handwriting.” Grace chews on her lower lip. “Of course I want to leave. And if it doesn’t work out for us there, we have enough money in that box to get us somewhere else.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be all right.” Jo’s words are hopeful, but, mostly, naive. A misplaced optimism. No one can know if they’ll be all right in some unknown place. But they’ll be together and away from the Snakes. Grace will be safe from her monstrous beast of a mother.