Nothing had changed at the end of Brisbane Alley. The length was still dotted with small campfires and littered with bulky shadows of makeshift tents, carts, wagons, and barrels. People moved about in the growing dark. Some glanced at her as she passed, but no one spoke or approached her. She found the Barkers’ wagon and, as always, a great tarp stretched out from it like a porch awning. One of the boys spotted her, and a moment later Lynnette rushed out. Without a word, she threw her arms around Arista and squeezed tightly.

“Come, have something to eat,” she said, wiping her cheeks and leading Arista by the hand. Lynnette laid a pot on the fire. “I saved some just in case. I had to hide it, of course, or the vultures would have gobbled it all down. I wasn’t sure you’d be back …”

The rest of the Barkers gathered around the fire. Finis and Hingus sat on the far side. Brice Barker, dressed in his usual white shirt and gray trousers, sat on an upturned crate, whittling a bit of wood. No one spoke. Arista took a seat on a wooden box, feeling awkward.

Is that apprehension in their eyes, or outright fear?

“Ella?” Lynnette finally asked in a small tentative voice. “Who are you?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she said after a long pause. She expected them to complain or press further. Instead, they all nodded silently, as if they had expected her answer, just as she had expected their question.

“I don’t care who you are. You’re always welcome at this fire,” Brice said. He kept his eyes on the flames, but his words betrayed an emotion she had not expected. Brice, who made his living shouting in the streets all day, hardly ever spoke.

Lynnette dished out the bit of stew she had warmed up. “I wish there was more. If I had only known you’d be back.”

“How is Wery?” Arista asked.

“He slept all night but was up most of the day running around, causing a nuisance as usual. Everyone who’s seen him is saying the same thing—it was a miracle.”

“Everyone?” Arista asked with concern.

“Folks been stopping by all day to see him and asking about you. Many said they had sick children or loved ones who are dying. One got so angry he knocked down the canvas and nearly upset the wagon before Finis brought Brice home to clear him out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be! Please—no—don’t ever be sorry,” Lynnette pleaded. She paused, her eyes tearing again. “You won’t be able to stay with us anymore, will you?”

Arista shook her head.

“The hooded man?”

“And others.”

“I wish I could help,” Lynnette said.

Arista leaned over and hugged her. “You have … more than you’ll ever know. If I could just get a good night’s sleep, then I—”