“How will I know when it’s July?” Patience asked.

“You must mark off the days somehow.”

“I’ll try.”

“Mrs. Dotta and Miss Rye will be expecting you, that they will. They have Dr. Bates’s letter and know right well who you are and where you’re at. They’ll be saving a spot for you on the Robert Lowe.”

Patience started down the steps, leading the way with the stub of candle shoved into the top of a bottle. Mercy wanted to say a hundred more things but couldn’t formulate the words. Instead the slap of their footsteps echoed too loudly in the corridors until they reached the front of the workhouse.

As Mercy stepped outside onto the front stoop, she had the sudden urge to drag Patience along with her. Surely she could sneak Patience aboard the ship. What was one more frail woman among so many passengers?

But even as Mercy contemplated how to force Patience to come with, her sister started to cough again, this time so violently she would have dropped the candle and set herself afire if Mercy hadn’t rescued it and placed it on the brick wall bordering the stoop.

When Patience finally stopped coughing, Mercy’s heart thudded with the awful premonition that this was it, that she’d never see her sister again. An ache formed in Mercy’s chest and swelled until it felt nigh unto bursting.

For a long moment she could only stare at her sister, the young woman who’d raised her, who’d tended so lovingly to her every need, who’d ultimately sacrificed everything for her. Mercy’s eyes suddenly stung with the need to cry and scream her protest at how unfair life was.

“I want you to remember that when we’re troubled on every side,” Patience said, her voice wavering, “we can’t get caught up in seeing the problems from our view. God’s so much bigger and has things worked out in His ways—ways we can’t begin to understand.”

Mercy nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in her throat. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—cry. She had to stay strong.

Patience lifted her blackened and blistered fingers and caressed Mercy’s face. Her eyes filled with tears. “You’re gonna be just fine and have a good new life.”

“And you’ll join me right soon.”

Patience touched Mercy’s face again, tracing it as though memorizing every line.

“Promise me you’ll come,” Mercy insisted. “Vow it.”

“I told you I’d try and I will.” Patience offered a trembling smile.

Mercy attempted to swallow but couldn’t.

“You best go on now.” Patience swiped at her cheeks. “I don’t like you wandering about in the dark.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will be.” And with that, Patience grabbed Mercy into a fierce hug. “You know I’ll always love you.”