The minute he said Boyle, I knew exactly who the man was, for Boyle was the name of the master of the house where I was supposed to go to work. I looked anxiously toward the door, praying for a chance to escape. But there was to be no reprieve. By now the other guests had stopped eating and were staring at me with great curiosity. I began to sweat.

Mr. Boyle addressed me again. “Come, don’t be shy, Miss Sweeney; it’s a simple enough question.”

I was trapped. Taking a deep breath, I muttered an answer. “N-no, my name is Nora, sir. Nora Sweeney.”

“Perhaps you have a sister, then.”

“Ah no, sir, I-I have no sisters.”

Mrs. Boyle broke in. “There was a Nora Sweeney listed among the missing from the Titanic.”

“I know, ma’am, but some of those on the missing list turned out to be survivors, l-like myself.”

My heart pounded as I said the words, and the two young women gasped. They gaped at me with open mouths, but Mrs. Boyle kept talking.

“It had been arranged for a Delia Sweeney to join our household staff, but the chit never arrived. She survived the voyage on the Titanic; that much we know because her name was on the survivors’ list. Therefore, we believe she is somewhere in New York, ungrateful hussy.”

Mr. Boyle patted his wife’s arm. “That’s enough, dear. This girl sounds English, and Sweeney is a common enough name.”

“Still,” said Aidan O’Hanlon, “it exhibits poor character in this Delia Sweeney not to fulfil her obligation to you.”

Then he shrugged his shoulders. “You may go now, Miss Sweeney.”

After I put Lily to bed and read her a story, I returned to my own room and sat down in a chair, my spirits low and on the verge of tears. I thought I’d left the imposter role behind me when I left Ireland. But it had followed me to New York—and this time it was my own doing. Tonight, I’d almost been caught out. I had hoped to disappear in New York, but the appearance of the Boyles in this very house told me that would be impossible. New York, even though it was home to millions of people, was as small as Kilcross when it came to the gentry. Was my past to follow me wherever I went?

I recalled the look on Aidan O’Hanlon’s face after the Boyles had finished quizzing me. His eyes had bored through me. I cringed at the thought that he might be suspicious. And from what he’d said about how he disapproved of those who didn’t fulfill their obligations, if he found out the truth, he would more than disapprove of me—he would dismiss me.