Bea’s brows raised in surprise and skepticism. Her hands dropped from Nan’s shoulders and she shook her head, rejecting it. She spoke past Nan, to the girls. “And who will pay what ye owe? It’s another year for you, Rosy, and three for you, Cissy. Nor do I know what they’ve told you, Nan, but –”

“There is naught they could say to stop me taking them from here, when they do not wish to stay.”

Her sister’s expression soured at this, eyes narrowing. Some of the women were at the door of the brothel, peering out at them. Fergus appeared too, starting up the street toward them slowly, and more people coming to the market now. Bea set her hands on her hips, her face hard as she looked at Nan.

“Oh, you are so good, are you not? Better than me and better than a whore’s life, and you think they are so much better too!” She gestured a hand toward the girls. “And who cared for them before you came along, eh? It’s me that feeds them, and me that puts the clothes on their backs and gives them beds to sleep in, or they’d be in the street. What have you to say to that?”

Nan had nothing to say to it. Or perhaps she had too much to say, all of it tangled and throbbing at the back of her throat. Words were so useless. They never managed to say anything that mattered, no matter how many were heaped on top of each other.

“Their debt will be paid,” she finally choked out. “I will send it to you.”

“Send it?” Bea’s combative pose wavered, her face softening in uncertainty. “You...you’ll not return?”

Fuss was growling. A cart had stopped just behind Bea on its way to the market, the owner watching them curiously. Nan could see a tiny hole starting at the seam of Bea’s bodice, and imagined taking a needle and thread to it. Three quick stitches and it would be mended, good as new. Until it frayed again.

She looked in her sister’s eyes – a look with no beginning or end, full of the deep recognition that only came with family – and they knew. They both knew she would never return, and they both knew why.

“Fare you well, little Bea,” she said barely above a whisper. The memory of her sister’s arm tightened around her, the feel of her face pressed against her as she wept in the night.

“Nan,” she began, but then there was a noise behind her and Nan turned to see Fergus reaching for Cecilia. He was telling her she would not be going anywhere as he caught her around the waist.