“Yes, Ma. I will,” Nora said fervently as she turned away, although I knew she was only humoring her. When it came to boys, Nora always did exactly what she wanted, no matter what she promised Ma.

I waited for Ma to say something to me. We stood looking at each other for what seemed a long time. At last she said, “Safe journey,” and turned and went back into the cottage. I fought back tears. I’d hoped against hope for some kind words. After all, this might well be the last time we would ever lay eyes on each other. I suppose I should have known better.

Just as we were ready to board the cart, our house cat raced out of the cottage door and jumped up into Nora’s arms, purring. Nora let out a squeal of delight.

“Poor puss,” she said as she stroked it. “Will you miss me? I’m sorry I can’t take you with me. Be a good girl now and go and keep Ma company.”

She gently set the cat back down on the ground. Nora was very fond of animals, a trait I always found curious in her. It seemed to me they were the only creatures she loved more than herself.

As we traveled away from the cottage, pale red streaks spanned the sky ahead of us. Dawn was coming, the last dawn I would see in Ireland, for I believed in my heart that I would never return. My sadness came as a surprise. I’d imagined I would feel only joy at finally being able to escape the cottage and Kilcross. But I hadn’t realized I would miss Donegal itself. Its green hills rose on either side of us like hazy, dark shadows in the dim light. In the distance, I could hear the splashing of the Atlantic against the cliffs. A squealing sheep ran across the road in front of us. I thought back to my favorite place, the circle of rocks beneath the oak tree where I had spent so many afternoons, lost in my imagination. I took a deep breath. I would miss all of it.

Da said nothing to either me or Nora as the cart rattled along the rutted road. He sat upright, holding the reins loosely in his hands and looking straight ahead. Every now and then, he urged the pony on in the lovely, soft Gaelic of his childhood. I sat beside him while Nora sat up on the wooden seat behind us. She moved about restlessly, her dress rustling in the silence. She wore one of her fancy new dresses—hardly the thing for a long journey. But then, Nora never set foot outside the door without looking her best. I smiled to myself. She would hardly be caught dead in the likes of the plain cotton blouse and skirt I wore.