“Did you do that?”
“No. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t me.”
“For that you were tossed in the madhouse?”
What was the point of playing games anymore? “I had an affair with the husband of the woman who accused me. I think she may have found out.”
“And had you committed, set you up, you mean?”
Sara had been turning the idea over in her head since her incarceration, trying to remember what had happened the days before the necklace had been found. If Mrs. Camden had found out about Theo and Sara and decided to get rid of her with a false accusation. “Perhaps.”
“Why are you up here and not with the rest of the ladies?”
“I stopped working, stopped doing much of anything. They don’t like that much.”
“What made you do that?”
Tears began falling down Sara’s face. No one had really cared much to ask why. “I had a baby, and it died, and there was no point after that.”
The woman took her hand. “The baby of your lover?”
Sara nodded. “He doesn’t even know I’m here. They’ve locked me away and I don’t know what he thinks or what happened. I’m done for.”
“I’m so sorry about the baby. You certainly don’t deserve to be tossed in an asylum for something you didn’t do. You didn’t do it, right?”
“No. I did not.”
The girl was spending far too much energy on Sara. She had to be warned.
“You need to take care of yourself going forward. Don’t question the other inmates like this, not in front of the nurses. You’ll get in trouble. The main thing is to not attract attention. Do as they ask, eat as much as you can, and in the sitting room, sit on the side opposite the windows, so you have something to look at.”
“The sitting room?”
“You’ll find out. Don’t try to help anyone, it doesn’t end well. But there’s a woman, Natalia, who’s lovely. If you can, find her.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know if they’ll ever let me out of this room.”
“Please don’t say that.” She walked over and sat beside Sara, swallowing hard. “You are obviously quite sane; I can see that myself. You must promise to keep going for me, and do what they say. Take your own advice, at least for a few weeks?”
A few weeks, a few days. None of it mattered.
Sara didn’t reply. The sun had set and the room grew chilly. It was time for bed. They crawled under their thin blankets and spoke no more.
“Who are you looking for?” Natalia tapped her spoon on her plate and gave Sara a crooked smile. “Prince Charming?”
Sara glanced over at her friend. For the past two weeks, ever since she’d been released back to hall 6, she’d looked around in vain for Nellie, hoping to see how her cellmate was faring. Nellie had been taken out of the room the day after her arrival, while Sara had lingered on for ten or twelve days longer, she wasn’t sure which. Time had become unreliable.
“The girl, Nellie, the one I told you about.”
“Right. She was here for a while but then must have gone to another building.”
“But still, then we’d see her outside. It’s as if she vanished into thin air.”
Natalia sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”
“I hope she wasn’t taken to the Lodge. She was far from violent; there would be no reason for that.”
“You see it all the time, women who are calm and then turn into savages. You never know. I’m just glad you’re back here with me. Are you glad?”
Underneath the words was concern. Natalia treated Sara differently ever since the baby. Like she was fragile, frail. Maybe she was, deep down. But the emotional and physical crisis, along with the long days and nights in a cell, had hardened her exterior into a tough shell. She did as she was told and didn’t ask questions or cause trouble. She knew her place. The asylum had beaten it into her. The baby’s death was something to be pushed down, deep, and never thought of again.
“I am very happy to be back with you, Natalia. Of course.”
“I’m sorry our plan didn’t work out.”
“It is better this way. Imagine the alternative. If it had survived.” She refused to use a gender pronoun to describe the child.
“I guess.” Natalia studied her plate. “We got fish and potatoes again. A feast.”
“Don’t question it, enjoy it. Who knows when they’ll go back to spoiled beef?”
“What about the new bedsheets? Why do you think they did that?”
Indeed, every inmate had been given a pillow and a warm blanket for their bed, unheard-of luxuries.
“Mrs. Smythe.”
Sara looked up to see Nurse Alden coming toward her at a brisk clip. “You must come with me at once.”
Sara looked over at Natalia, whose face had gone gray. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine.” But what did they want with her? She hadn’t done anything to attract attention. Nothing she could think of.
Nurse Alden’s eyes were shining. “Just come along.”
Superintendent Dent stood with Dr. Fields in the middle of the octagon’s floor. A woman in a well-cut brown wool dress stepped forward.
Nellie.
“My dear Sara, I’m so glad to see you.”
Sara looked over at Superintendent Dent. Was this a trick?
“You’re being released, Mrs. Smythe.” He didn’t look pleased, and refused to meet her gaze. “The papers have been signed. Off you go, as the boat is leaving soon.”
“I’m going?”
“Yes. You’re free.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
New York City, July 1885
“I must see Natalia.” Sara turned back to the dining hall, but Nellie caught her.
“No, there’s no time. We’ll figure it out. Not now, though.”
“Why am I being released?”
Superintendent Dent cleared his throat. “Miss Bly is a reporter and has cleared your name for you.”
“But you were an inmate here just a couple weeks ago.”
“I was, as an undercover journalist. Luckily, the press has the power to expose injustice in an unfair, unsafe institution.” She stared hard at Superintendent Dent while she spoke.
Sara wasn’t sure what that meant, what had happened. Before she could ask another question, she was taken to a room to sign some papers. Then Nellie took her by the arm and they walked outside, where the other inmates milled about.
“Sara!”
Natalia ran over, her face a cloud of concern. “Where are you going?”
Sara hugged her friend. The one person who had kept her alive the past many months. “I’m leaving, I’ve been freed. I’m not sure what happened.” She began to cry. “I can’t leave you.”
“We’ll be back, I promise,” said Nellie. She put a hand on Natalia’s arm. “This is the best I can do for now, but there will be more visits, and if Sara knows your full name and story, we’ll see if we can clear you as well.”
“Her name is Natalia Fabiano, and I can’t leave her.”
Natalia took Sara’s face in her hands. “Of course you can. You go now.” They hugged.
The horn of the boat blew and Sara and Nellie made their way to the dock, to the cheers of the inmates. The nurses tried to shush them but in vain, and Natalia’s voice soared above them all.
“Sara Smythe! Don’t forget us!”
It wasn’t until the boat pulled away and the sailor in front tossed the thick rope onto the dock that Sara fully understood the sudden change in the course of her life. Nellie shoved a newspaper into her hands. Sara pored over the front-page article where the sordid details of Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum were laid out, one after another: the cold baths, the beatings, the sadistic staff, and the hours and hours of torturous sitting, word after terrible word, for the entire city to read. The byline read MISS NELLIE BLY.
“You’re a hero.” Sara grabbed Nellie’s hand. “You pretended to be mad? What were you thinking?”
“To be honest, I was thinking that it would make a good story. But once I was there, I realized how truly awful it was, and how no one in the city proper knew what was going on. I was certain that if they knew, they’d care, and I was right. This is only the first step. A commission has been set up and they’ve committed one million dollars to straighten the place out.”