Ruth tried to break free, but it only made Alice tighten her grip and dig her fingernails in more. “You can’t do this, you’re my mother. How could you?”

“You brought this upon yourself. I am saving you, Alice.” Ruth was still struggling. “You will thank me for it in the end.”

“No, I won’t. Now tell me where she is.”

“I will not.”

Alice released her grip, body weakening, barely able to stand. She locked eyes with her mother, their familiar gray flecks now stony and cold, and Alice fought the urge to strike her, knowing it would only make her feel better for an instant. “Why are you doing this to me?” she said, leaning into the table again. “Just tell me why.”

Ruth swallowed and looked at the floor before gazing back at Alice. “The day your father died, I promised myself I would always protect you, I would always put you first . . . and that’s exactly what I’m doing now.”

“But don’t you think I know what’s best for me?”

“You aren’t thinking clearly, Alice.” Ruth’s expression hardened.

“Whose idea was it . . . Father Mitchell’s? Did he put you up to this?”

Ruth cast her eyes down as her fingers played with the tea towel in her hands. “It’s got nothing to do with him.”

“I bet it’s got everything to do with him.”

“You know that God will make his own judgment. It’s not ours to make.”

As repugnant as she found it, Alice believed her mother might be telling the truth. She glanced around, realizing how the kitchen had become even colder and how the smell of her mother’s cooking was repellent where once it had been comforting.

Alice gathered her thoughts. “I’ll leave here, no one will know. You can come and visit us if you want to. The shame will only be mine.”

It looked as though Ruth might be relenting, her eyes becoming glassy. “I never wanted to hurt you, Alice. I know what you’ve been through.”

“Then don’t do this,” she pleaded. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else says or thinks. I’ll take Eadie far away. No one will ever know.”

“How? Where would you go . . . how would you manage?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find a way,” Alice said, beginning to sob again, tears streaming down her face. “She needs me . . .”

Ruth remained mute, and they stood in silence, listening as a train rumbled along its tracks in the distance and birdsong sounded from the garden. The longer their silence stretched, the more Alice hoped her mother would change her mind.

Then she noticed the table was set for two. “Who are you expecting?”

“This is your home, Alice. There will always be a place for you here.”