Kyra pushed her stool back and lowered her voice. “You really think she’ll be helpful, Bella? I don’t want them making trouble.”

“They won’t. Idalee’s smart and determined to work hard. Laman doesn’t mind hiring her as long as she does the work and Lettie stays quiet. Are you sure about covering the rest of her lodging?”

“I’ll be fine.” She checked again to make sure Idalee wasn’t listening. “James pays me plenty.”

“Here, let me do the rest.” Bella took the knife and rolled the remaining turnips away from Kyra. “You’ve taken a liking to them two, haven’t you? I don’t see you renting rooms for any of the other gutter mice.”

Kyra shrugged, self-consciously tracing the grains on the table surface. “I don’t know,” she said. “Lettie’s so small. I was that small once.”

“I really don’t know how you survived out there by yourself. Lettie had Idalee, at least.”

“Don’t remember much. Just really wanted to survive, I guess.”

“From what I could gather, you had a tough time. You were a suspicious little mouse when we met. The first few times I fed you, you watched Flick eat half the bowl before you dared swallow anything.”

“Really?” Kyra couldn’t decide which was more amusing—that she’d suspected Bella of poisoning her food, or that she’d been willing to sacrifice Flick as her taster.

“And then there were the nightmares,” said Bella.

Those, she did remember. The nightmares had followed her off the streets into her early years at The Drunken Dog. Flashes of bright heat. A woman’s dark eyes. Teeth. She remembered Bella coming into her room when she woke up screaming, holding her and stroking her hair until she stopped. That gesture, more than anything, was what had finally broken through Kyra’s walls.

“I don’t have them as often anymore,” said Kyra. And she was better at suppressing her screams when she woke. Kyra supposed she was too old these days to run to Bella, but a selfish part of her still missed Bella’s touch.

“I’m glad to hear it. And you’ve done well for yourself. You rented your first room with your own earnings,” said Bella.

“I stumbled on a flush trade.” Kyra gave the cook a wry smile. “I could train Idalee….”

“Please don’t. I’ve given up on straightening you out, but I still hold out hope for these girls.”

“I’m surprised you’re at The Drunken Dog, Bella.” Bella didn’t speak much of her past, but Kyra knew that she and Flick’s mother had been merchants’ daughters. Not nobility by any means, but not the type to be spending time with thieves and gutter rats.