Twenty-Eight

Mrs. Chin handed her a tray once more, along with strict instructions to see that her sister ate at least the broth. Vivian's hands shook as she went upstairs. Florence might've thought she'd been the one doing the mothering between them, but Vivian had always looked after her sister. Vivian had wanted to give her a life that made her happy, even if it meant doing things Florence wouldn't have approved of if she'd known about them. At least Florence had that now. She had a family.

She had someone to look after her, even if Vivian was gone.

Florence was sitting in the middle of the room folding laundry when Vivian knocked. "Hey, Flo," she said softly, poking her head around the edge of the door. "You up to a visit?"

Florence looked up. Her eyes were shadowed, from fatigue or worry or probably both. But she smiled at her sister. "Are you supposed to make me eat again?"

"Can you?" Vivian asked. "How are you feeling?" She didn't say why she was there. She would, eventually. But for the moment, she just wanted everything to feel normal between them, to talk about Miss Ethel or the baby or anything but the clock that had finally run out.

"Like a whale," Florence said, shaking her head. "And it's only going to get worse from here. Put that down and help me with the laundry? I can't eat until we clear some space."

The basket was full of baby clothes, carefully mended from all the children who had worn them before, and freshly washed. Vivian knelt next to her sister and pulled out a handful. She closed her eyes, trying to picture her sister as a mother. That wasn't hard.

But when she tried to picture Danny as a father, all she could see was him behind the bar of the Nightingale. And Honor was there, as always, standing beside him.

She pushed the image out of her head quickly. She couldn't let herself think of Honor right now. Swallowing, she buried her nose in the pile of laundry, trying to chase the hurt away.

"I made a decision about the letter," Florence said, one hand on the small of her back as she rose and carried a neat stack of little blankets to the chest of drawers she and Danny shared. Two of its drawers had been cleared out. One was already full of diapers, pins, and rags. The other was empty, waiting for the impossibly tiny clothes in the wash basket to be folded and tucked away. "From the medical examiner. I sent a response last night."

"To him?" Vivian asked, frowning. But as soon as she looked up, she knew what Florence meant. "To the address. To our… to whoever it was that buried our mother."

"Yes."

Vivian's hands clenched around the handful of laundry she had pulled from the basket. Her throat felt too tight to say anything.

"You didn't want me to," Florence said as she lowered herself back to the floor, settling close to Vivian. It wasn't a question. "You meant it when you said I should throw it away. Why?"

Vivian stared at the baby clothes in her lap. For a moment, the words felt tangled up in her throat, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to get them out. "I don't know. If he is our dad… he's already let us down, hasn't he? Who's to say he won't do it again?"

"He might," Florence agreed. "It's a risk, letting people into your life."

"Exactly. It's just more people to hurt you, right?" Vivian glanced up at her sister. "And more people to miss."

"But there's also a chance that it's more people to love you," Florence pointed out, running her hands over a little cotton gown to smooth it out before folding it into a tidy square. "You've spent your whole life wishing for more people to love you, Vivi, and looking for people that you could love back."

Vivian wanted to look away. It made her furious sometimes, how well Florence knew her, how well she had always known her, even when they had been so hurt by each other that they felt like strangers. It left an ache like homesickness inside her. And it soothed the ache at the same time, knowing that Florence was always there, even when they were apart.

That wouldn't change, would it? Not with distance, not with Danny. Not with the new baby. Not even with the walls of a prison or worse between them. Florence had always known who she was. She had always known how desperately Vivian wanted someone to show her she was worth loving.

But now…

"What is it, Vivi?" Florence asked gently, scooting close enough that their shoulders pressed together. "I've always been the one who wanted to leave well enough alone. You always insisted on looking for more. Why not now?"

Vivian couldn't look at her sister. "I don't know which would be worse," she whispered. "If whoever it is didn't want us, and I wasn't with you to share the hurt. Or…" She swallowed. Could she admit something so awful?

"Or they do, and you aren't there to share that either."

Vivian nodded miserably. Florence always knew her, even the parts she wanted to hide.

Florence turned suddenly, pulling Vivian into a tight hug in spite of the lump of her belly bulging between them. Vivian clung to her just as fiercely, her face buried against her sister's shoulder. "I always worried it would be your nights out, dancing and drinking and all the rest of it, that would lead to this kind of trouble," Florence whispered. Vivian could hear the tears in her voice. "I never thought it would be dressmaking that—" She broke off with a rough, shuddering breath. "Goddamn it, Vivi," she whispered.

"Language, Flo," Vivian gasped, not sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

"Don't," Florence insisted fiercely. "I'm your big sister. I'm supposed to fix this. I'm supposed to keep you safe."

"It's not your fault," Vivian whispered. It was someone's fault, but it sure as hell wasn't Florence's. And she wouldn't let her sister say good-bye thinking she should have done something more. Vivian held her more tightly. "It's no one's fault."

"It's—"

The gentle tap on the door made them both jump, but it was just Danny, hesitant as he closed the door behind him. "It's getting late," he said softly. "And I have to head to work soon. What's the plan, girls?"

Vivian frowned, glancing between him and Florence. "The plan?"

"I said I was supposed to keep you safe, and I'm going to," Florence said in a fierce whisper. "There has to be something, right?" She looked to Danny.

"You don't expect us to just let you get hauled away, do you?" he asked, crossing his arms and scowling at Vivian. "We can hide you, or maybe get you out of town. I'm sure Leo knows someone who—"

"Don't you dare," Vivian said sharply.

"But—"

"Don't you dare," she repeated, pulling out of her sister's arms. "You remember how this works, right? Florence could be in danger if I disappear. I'm not risking that."

"And what if I don't care?" Florence demanded.

"Maybe you don't for your own sake." Vivian tilted her head toward Danny. "But he does. And you've got more than just you to be thinking of right now."

Florence clenched her hands into fists, as though they wanted to pull protectively around her belly and she wouldn't let them. "But you're already here," she whispered, her voice breaking. "And I can't let you go."

"It's all right, Flo," Vivian said gently, wanting it to be true. But even if it wasn't, she needed Florence to believe it, or at least pretend to believe it, long enough to keep her safe. "It'll be okay. You'll be okay. Just promise me you won't do anything to risk yourself or the baby."

"But—"

"Promise me."She had spent so long trying to set them both free. Florence had made it. Vivian wasn't going to let her give that up. "Please."

There were tears in Florence's eyes as she nodded. "I promise," she whispered.

Vivian looked at Danny, her voice catching as she asked, "You'll make sure of it, right?"

"Always," he said, nodding. The smile he gave her was sad. "Are you coming, Viv?"

"Where?"

"To the Nightingale, of course. Don't you want to say good-bye? Just. You know. Just in case."

More than anything,she wanted to say. Vivian wondered if her chest had finally cracked open, if both of them could see every selfish, longing heartbeat inside her. But she couldn't. Not tonight. She glanced at her sister. "But—"

Florence turned her face up toward Danny. "You'll make sure she's safe?"

"For as long as I can," Danny said, laying his hand on her shoulder. When she reached up to press hers against it, so tightly that Vivian could see white around her knuckles, he took her fingers in his and brought them to his lips, then bent to kiss her mouth, so softly, so sweetly, that Vivian had to look away.

A moment later, she felt Danny nudge her arm. "Come on, kitten. Get your glad rags on and meet me downstairs." He gave her a smile. "When the party might end, you can't waste a moment, right?"

"But—" Vivian tried to call after him, but he was already out the door. Vivian wiped her eyes before any tears could fall and give her away. She turned back to her sister. "I'm not going anywhere, Flo. I'm staying right here with you."

But Florence shook her head. "Go home, Vivi. And I don't mean that miserable little room where you sleep." Her smile was like heartbreak as she laid her palm against Vivian's cheek. "I mean your real home."

Vivian dragged in a breath, leaning into her sister's hand. "Thank you," she whispered.

Florence had always known her, even the parts she wanted to hide.