From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(50)

"What'll happen to us, you fink?" she asked after a while.

"I don't know."

"I knew a bloke what was hanged once. A cove in my bruvver's gang, he were. Stole a gold watch off a toff, but he weren't quick enough and got caught. They said his body twitched and jumped 'round in the noose afore it went still. I reckon that's the spirit leavin', goin' up to heaven. What d'you reckon?"

"I think you're right."

She looked satisfied with my response. "My bruvver tried tellin' me there ain't no such thing as spirits and heaven. He says that bein' dead's just like bein' asleep, but I don't fink he's right. He's an idiot. Can't even write his name. I can write me letters, see. I got educated more 'an him."

"Tell your brother when you see him again that I know for a fact that spirits are real."

She raised her head. "How?"

"I've seen them and spoken to them."

She sat up straight. "You one of them mediums?"

I nodded. "Tell your brother there is a heaven, and good people go there in their afterlife. I know it for certain." I don't know why I felt compelled to tell her. Perhaps because she had nothing to look forward to in life, and I wanted her to know something else awaited her after death.

"What's it like?" she asked softly. "Heaven?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

She scooted across the floor and clasped my arm in both hands. She looked so young and vulnerable with her hollow cheeks, scrawny frame and big eyes, full of wonder. "Tell me about the spirits you seen. What do they look like?"

I described the mists, the lack of color, and some of the conversations I'd had, without giving away too much. I didn't tell her about raising the dead, or the murderers I'd encountered. The more I spoke, the more she curled into my side, clinging to my arm as if she was afraid I'd float away if she let go. After a good while, her eyes began to droop heavily and her yawns grew more frequent.

"Go to sleep," I said quietly. "It'll be morning soon and you'll need your strength for the day ahead." I removed my coat and wrapped it around us both.

She snuggled into me, and her body relaxed into sleep.

I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes too. I didn't feel as if I slept a wink, but when I reopened my eyes it was lighter. A lackluster beam of sunlight struggled through the barred window, brightening more of the cell than the gas lamp. I remained still for a long time so as not to wake the sleeping girl. I could make out scratch marks on the walls, made by bored or scared prisoners. Some of them even formed names. I read as many as I could decipher to pass the time and to keep my mind off our investigation, off Lincoln, and off the memories of the last time I'd been locked in a holding cell. I wasn't very successful on any count.

The woman on the bed rolled over and broke wind. She then proceeded to snort and hawk up snot at regular intervals. When I'd lived with boys' gangs, I'd learned to ignore their disgusting habits. After a few months of living a mannered and clean life, my tolerance for bodily noises had diminished.

The scraping of the lock drawing back and the door opening acted like an alarm bell. The woman on the bed sat bolt upright, mumbling something into her chins that I couldn't make out. The girl leaning against me also sat up and rubbed her eyes. Upon sight of the constable, she once again curled into me, clinging to my arm.

"Miss Charlotte Holloway, come with me, please," he said. "Inspector will speak to you now."

The girl's fingers gripped harder. She blinked back at me.

"My name's Charlie," I told her.

"Betty."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Betty. Here." I removed the coat from my shoulders and wrapped it around her. "Keep this. I have another." And she was going to need it more than me.

"You're released too, Betty," the constable said. "Since this is your first time and the goods weren't found on you, you've been let off with a warning. Come with me, both of you."

Betty choked back a cry. "Thank God," she muttered. "Thank God." She hugged me and I hugged her back. "You're my lucky charm, Miss Charlie."

I smiled with genuine happiness. Not only for her, but also for me. The constable had said she was being released 'too.' Did that mean I wasn't being charged? "Take care, Betty."

"What about me?" cried the woman on the bed with an indignant scowl.

"You get to enjoy the peace and quiet in here a while longer, Jenny," the constable said with a chuckle.

She lay down again with the loudest snort yet. "Pigs."

Betty and I followed the constable down the corridor to the front of the station. Betty was handed over to another constable who led her to one office while I was led to another. Lincoln met me at the door. His seer's senses must have anticipated my approach.

His burning gaze washed over my face, twice. "Charlie." He cupped my jaw in his hands and stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. He opened his mouth, but said nothing. He didn't have to. It was all there in his eyes and touch. He'd been worried all night, and now sheer relief rendered him speechless.

He still cared. I was sure of it now.

I placed my hands over his and gently pulled them away. "You look tired."