Sally grunted, then, reluctantly, nodded.

“So?” asked Lotti. “Where would you sell a necklace?”

“If you want quick money, you don’t sell it, you take it to a pawnbroker,” said Sally. “But they won’t deal with you, you’re too young.”

This was a blow, though hardly surprising. In a world controlled by adults, of course children weren’t allowed to sell their own jewelry. That would be too easy. Lotti would have to be clever.

“Sally …”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to say!”

“I do. You’re going to ask me to pawn that necklace for you, and I’m not doing it. I don’t like your uncle and aunt, but I’m not stealing from them.”

“You wouldn’t be stealing from them!” explained Lotti. “Sally, it’s my necklace! I inherited it. It is one hundred percent mine. And Sally … what if I said I’ll give you some of the money from the necklace? As a wedding present. Toward your pub!”

Sally left, satisfied with the deal. Alone again, Lotti began to stack the jewelry cases back into the safe. Her eye fell on a new box, much smaller than the others, almost invisible at the back. Curious, she reached for it.

“Oh!”

Papa’s signet ring, a family heirloom, a dark red carnelian engraved with the head of a falcon, in a gold setting carved with lilies. Papa had worn it sometimes for luck—though not, obviously, on the day of the crash.

“Well, we need luck now.” Lotti took the ring out of its case and slipped it into her pocket. Then she finished putting the boxes back in the safe, locked it, and hoisted the painting back onto the wall, straightening it as best she could before hurrying out to prepare for the journey.

While Sally was in town, Lotti went round the pantry, shoveling items into a rucksack. Jam, margarine, biscuits. Tins of soup, peas, peaches, sausages, beans. From the store cupboard she took soap, tooth powder, matches, candles. She felt no more guilt at taking these than she had the necklace—they were bought with her money, after all. The only thing she felt bad about was lying when she said goodbye to Zachy.

“I’m going to school in the morning,” she told him. “Thank you for everything you did for Federico. I didn’t tell my uncle you helped me, by the way. He thinks I just hid him on the grounds.”

Zachy winked, crinkling his walnut face. “You’re a good ’un, Miss Lotti, just like your mama. I’m glad the little feller got away. And don’t you fret about Barton while you’re off at school. I’ll take good care of the place for you till you’re home, same as I always have.”

Lotti hugged him and said, “You and Sally are the only things I’ll miss.”