“No, ma’am.” Mercy tucked her hands out of sight so the woman wouldn’t see the black encrusted into her fingernails. Everything about the room spoke of a standard of cleanliness that was foreign to Mercy, from the shining glass windows to the richly polished desk, with every inkpot, ledger, and paper neatly organized.

The woman finally looked up. “If you’re not on our list, why then are you here?” The words weren’t spoken unkindly, but Mercy couldn’t keep from cowering on the inside regardless.

“I was hoping to get on the list, ma’am. The fine gent I spoke to last night told me to come back this morning first thing. So here I am.” After leaving Patience and the workhouse, Mercy had walked several miles to reach the Columbia Mission Society building only to discover it was dark and deserted. A man exiting the business next door informed Mercy that everyone had gone home for the night.

Darkness had long past fallen, along with a foggy mist. She’d had to make her way carefully through the maze of streets so she didn’t call any attention to herself, especially as she ventured into Old Nichol.

Some claimed the name of the slum was taken after the devil himself, Old Nick. Whatever the case, the Prince of Darkness had made Old Nichol his home, for surely no other place so resembled hell on earth.

As she passed through the bowels of the slum, a deep weariness had cloaked her. She decided she wouldn’t return to the Columbia Mission Society in the morning, that she couldn’t leave Patience or her family. For in spite of everything, they still needed her.

But when she’d climbed to the garret room and found her younger siblings huddled together on the dark landing and heard Ash shouting and Twiggy crying behind the closed door of the apartment, it hadn’t taken her long to realize they were fighting over which of the children had to leave.

At their mention of sending ten-year-old Matthew to the docks to make his way with the homeless boys who lived there, including her other brothers, Mercy finally understood why Patience had so willingly gone to the workhouse. She’d interrupted her parent’s argument and told them that as long as they kept Matthew, she’d be the one to go and make her own way.

Now here she was again, hunger raging around her insides looking for something to devour, except there was nothing. Before leaving home that morning, she’d given her share to the little ones and determined that from now on, she’d find her own grub or else go hungry.

The woman on the other side of the desk shuffled her papers together. “I’m sorry you had to make the trip over here again so needlessly. But I’m afraid all sixty of our spots have already been filled.”