I would not let myself be cast out. Not after my years of hard work. Not after all I had done.

Fortunately, Judge Frankenstein had been called away on a mysterious journey of his own. I did not ask permission again so much as…leave. Justine did not know that. Her presence gave me the freedom I needed here to move about without inviting suspicion or censure. William and Ernest, Victor’s younger brothers and her charges, would be fine in the care of the maid until we could return.

Another burst of thunder, this one rumbling through our chests so we felt it in our very hearts.

“Tell me the story of the first time you met Victor,” she squeaked, clutching my hand so hard that the bones ached.

—

The woman who was not my mother pinched me and tugged my hair with brutally efficient meanness.

I wore a dress that was far too big. The sleeves hung down to my wrists, which was not the style for children. But the dress covered the bruises that covered my skin. The week previous I had been caught stealing an extra portion of food. Though I had often been bloodied by her angry fists, this time my caregiver had beaten me until everything went black. I spent the next three nights hiding in the woods at the lake, eating berries. I thought she would kill me when she found me; she had often threatened to do just that. Instead, she had discovered another use for me.

“Do not ruin this,” she hissed. “Better for you to have died at your birth along with your mother than to be left here with me. Selfish in life, selfish in death. That’s what you come from.”

I lifted my chin high, let her finish brushing my hair so that it shone as bright as gold.

“Make them love you,” she demanded as a gentle knock sounded at the door to the hovel I shared with my caregiver and her own four children. “If they do not take you, I will drown you in the rain barrel like the cat’s last litter of runty kittens.”

A woman stood outside, surrounded by a blinding halo of sunlight.

“Here she is,” my caretaker said. “Elizabeth. The little angel herself. Born to nobility. Fate stole her mother, pride imprisoned her father, and Austria took her fortune. But nothing could touch her beauty and goodness.”

I could not turn around lest I stomp on her foot or punch her for her false love.

“Would you like to meet my son?” the new woman asked. Her voice trembled as though she was the one who was scared.

I nodded solemnly. She took my hand and led me away. I did not look back.