“Just so long as you do not forget that you work for the Frankensteins. Not for me.” I took the other end of the quilt she was lifting and helped her fold it. The blankets beneath were in better shape, protected from dust by the quilt. “Let me open this window and then we can beat the devil out of this.”

Justine dropped her end of the quilt, her stricken look making it obvious she was somewhere else entirely. I cursed my thoughtless choice of words.

—

Victor was low with one of his regular fevers, but in the recovery phase, during which he slept like the dead for two days before coming out of his fog. I had not been out of the house in a week for caring for him. Henry dragged me away with the promise of sun and fresh strawberries and finding a present for Victor.

After the boatman dropped us off at the nearest city gate, we strolled down the lane of the main market before following the sun on its narrow pathway through the charmingly crowded wood-and-stone buildings. I had not realized how much I needed this bright and clear day of freedom. Henry was so easy to be with, even though things had begun to shift between us. But that day we felt as if we were young children again, laughing without a care. I was drunk on the sunshine, on the feel of the breeze on my skin, on knowing that no one needed me at that precise moment.

Until someone did.

I did not realize I was running toward the screaming until I found its source. A woman built like a cudgel was standing over a girl around my own age. The girl had curled in on herself, arms over her head where her brown curls had come free from her cap. The woman was shouting, spittle carrying her words down to the girl.

“—beat the devil out of you, you worthless little whore!” She grabbed a broom from where it rested against the door and lifted it high over her head.

In that moment, I was no longer seeing the woman in front of me. I was seeing another hateful woman with a cruel tongue and crueler fists. With a blinding flash of anger, I leapt in front of her, taking the blow on my own shoulder.

The woman staggered back, shocked. I raised my chin defiantly. The anger drained from her face, replaced with fear. Though she lived in a decent part of town, she was obviously from a working class of people. And my fine skirts and jacket—not to mention the beautiful gold locket I wore around my neck—marked me as coming from much higher in the ranks of society.

“Pardon me,” she said, fear combining with her angry exertions to make her voice breathless and tight. “I did not see you there, and—”