“This is Christina,” Mrs. Mulder said. “She needs to stay with us for a while. Do you girls need anything while I’m out here?”

“No thank you,” one of the women replied.

“Then I’ll be putting the chickens to bed now. I’ll let you introduce yourselves.” The wall closed behind Miriam with a thud, leaving her in semidarkness. She squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust, fighting the feeling that she was trapped in this tiny space and the walls were closing in. It was no bigger than ten feet square and was a few feet lower than the coop.

“I’m Lies,” the woman who’d spoken said. “These are my daughters, Julie and Betsie. And this is Alie.”

“How do you do? I’m Miri —I mean, Christina.”

The girl named Julie laughed. “We had to get used to our new names too. Have a seat.” She patted a space on one of the mattresses on the floor.

A heavy weight began to settle on Miriam’s chest as she sank down, squeezing out all of the air. She barely managed to say, “Thank you.”

“This place isn’t as bad as it seems right now,” Alie said. “There’s another door back here that we can open during the day to let in some light and air. We can even sit outside during the day if no one comes to the farm.”

“But it’s better to wait until dark to go outside,” Lies said. “The farm is near a busy road and we don’t want to take any chances.”

“There’s nothing but woods behind us,” Alie said.

“Even so. It’s better to be safe.”

Miriam thought she detected tension between the two women and wondered if they would all be at each other’s throats eventually, after being crushed together in such a small space. The one named Betsie hadn’t spoken.

“The outhouse is behind us, too,” Julie added. “And there’s a pump for water. Mrs. Mulder brings us food when she feeds the chickens, and even some books to read.”

Miriam had no idea how she would be able to eat with such a strong smell invading their room. She glanced behind her at the trapdoor to the coop, where there seemed to be a great deal of commotion. “Is it always this noisy?” Miriam asked. “I grew up in the city . . .”

“You’ll get used to their racket,” Alie said. “You won’t even notice it after a while.” But even the low cooing sound the hens made as they finally seemed to settle onto their nests was annoying and unending.