“Where are we going?” he asked, practical as ever.

Faith’s mouth was set. She might be eleven, but she was extremely sure of herself. “To look for my mother.”

Finney might well have argued against that notion. Brooklyn was a big place, but since this girl had shown herself to know more than most, he decided to do as she said. He found that he was suddenly more curious about the future, nearly hopeful, which was something he hadn’t felt for many years.

“And what happens when we find her?” he asked.

“Then I’ll be where I’m meant to be,” Faith said. “And you’ll be rich.”

When they stopped for the night, Faith looked through the cart until she found a handsaw, which she quickly handed over to Finney. She nodded to the iron bracelets.

“Work away,” she told him.

Finney took a step back when he realized that she wished him to saw through the iron bracelets she wore, fitted tightly to her wrists. He didn’t have great confidence in the steadiness of his own hands. He often drank to forget, and had tremors, along with a lack of faith in himself. And he was a gentle man, who hated to cause anyone pain. He shook his head and put down the saw. “I might hurt you.”

“I couldn’t be any more hurt than I already am,” Faith replied. “I lost everything. You’re just helping me find it again. When we get to where we’re going, you’ll be rewarded. You’ll have more than you’ve ever dreamed of.”

“So you say.” Finney laughed. “I assume you have hidden riches?”

“I assure you,” Faith said, sounding insulted. “My mother will see that you’re repaid.”

When she stared at him so pitifully, he had no choice in the matter. Faith sat perfectly still, and if the handsaw nicked her now and again, she didn’t wail or complain, not even when there was a line of blood, which was black and sticky and burned through the floor of the wagon. She had grown up drinking Courage Tea, and the effects of that brew had lasted. When the bracelets came off, blue marks circled her wrists, and where the skin had been pinched for so long there were deep indentations in her flesh. She would have these marks all her life, and they would serve to remind her of what some people were willing to do for what they told themselves was love.