Lilly’s breath caught in her chest. What in the world was going on? She studied the man’s eyes, trying to remain calm. He held her gaze. She opened her mouth to ask who he was and what he wanted, then reminded herself there were thousands of girls named Lilly. “I see,” she said again. “Is Lilly lost? Did she run away?”
The man shook his head. “I came here to tell her I’m sorry. I had no idea what her mother was going to do.”
Lilly stiffened. No. It couldn’t be. “Please,” she said, suddenly light-headed. “Just close your eyes and I’ll try to—”
“I want her to know I’m glad she got out and I hope she’s happy.”
Lilly leaned back in her chair, her heart about to explode. She didn’t know what to say. It had to be coincidence. It just had to be. Then the man pulled down his scarf and she jumped to her feet. “What are you doing here?” she cried.
Her father stood and moved toward her, his face thin and white in the dim light. “I came to see you.”
For a dizzying second, she wondered if he were a ghost. Maybe he really did die after Momma took her out of the attic. Maybe Momma had been telling the truth all those years ago when she said he wasn’t “long for this world.” She moved away from him on watery legs, until her back bumped into the tent wall. Beads rattled against the canvas. “What do you want?”
“I want you to know I’m sorry. And I still love you.”
She put a fist over her churning stomach. “I-I waited for you. I thought you’d come looking for me.”
He glanced at the floor, his face grave. “I know. And I don’t blame you if you hate me. But I did the best I could.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “Did you try to find me?”
He shook his head. “Your mother never would have let me bring you back home.”
Lilly gripped the sides of her skirt in her fists and struggled to keep her voice steady. “Why would you listen to her after what she did to me?”
He pressed his lips together and stared at her, but said nothing.
“You were my father,” she said. “You were supposed to protect me.”
“I’m know, and I’m sorry. Your mother made me—”
Lilly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What kind of father allows his wife to lock up his daughter and sell her to the circus? “Made you what?” she said, her voice rattled by fury. “Choose her over me?”
With that, Pierre climbed out of the back of the wardrobe. “What’s going on?” he said. “Are you all right, Lilly?”
She scrubbed the tears from her face, confused and furious and mad at herself for crying. Her father didn’t deserve to know he affected her that way. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Pierre looked up at him. “I think you should leave, sir,” he said in a firm voice.
“I just want to talk to her,” her father said. “I want to explain—”
“No,” Lilly said. “You don’t get to explain anything. You had your chance. It’s been six years and now you come looking for me? For what? To clear your conscience? It’s too late for that.” She pointed at the exit. “He’s right, you need to leave. I don’t need you anymore.”
“Lilly, please,” her father said. “I—”
“Get out!!” Lilly screamed.
He studied her face with sad eyes for what seemed like forever, then dropped his shoulders and trudged out of the tent. When he was gone, Lilly crumpled to the ground and buried her face in her hands, shoulders convulsing. Pierre put a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he said.
She shook her head. “Shut it down.”
“What?”
“Shut down the act. I can’t see anyone else today.”
“Are you sure? Merrick will have a fit. Who knows what he’ll do.”
She looked at Pierre, her temples pounding and her face wet with tears and sweat. “I don’t care what he does. Whatever it is, it won’t hurt as much as this.”
Now, Lilly lay awake in her bunk, waiting to see what Merrick would do when he found out the midway had been packed with a long line of rubes waiting to see her, and she had turned every last one away. Pierre was right; there was no telling what Merrick would do. She tried to stay calm by counting the boards in the ceiling above her. One, two, three. four. It didn’t help.
She turned on her side, trying to decide if she should tell Merrick before someone else did. Maybe he’d understand if she explained what happened. Maybe he’d even be glad she kicked her father out. After all, buying a child from its mother couldn’t be legal. She could lie and tell him her father wanted to know where he was, and that he threatened to call the cops. Then the boxcar door screeched open on its iron tracks and slammed into the opposite wall. The other women startled and sat up in their beds.
“Everybody out!” Merrick bellowed.
The women swung their legs over the sides of their bunks, wrapped their robes over thin nightgowns, and slipped their feet into worn slippers. With her hair in curlers, Dolly the World’s Most Beautiful Fat Woman rocked back and forth on her cot, trying to get enough momentum to push herself up. Hester went over and put a hand under her arm to help. Lilly got down from her bunk, put on her bathrobe, helped Hester with Dolly, then followed the women toward the exit.
“Not you,” Merrick said, pointing a riding crop at Lilly.
Lilly stopped, her stomach turning over.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “My father showed up and I . . . I couldn’t pull myself together afterward.”
The other women got out of the car and stood in the open doorway, their faces lined with fear and worry.
Merrick glared at her. “Your father is dead.”
Lilly shook her head. “No, he’s not. My mother was lying. He came here looking for me. He wanted to know where you were and said he was going to call the cops.”
“I don’t believe you. If he came looking for you, where is he? Why are you still here?”
Lilly’s chin trembled. “I told him I wanted to stay, and he left.”
“Of course he did. He doesn’t want you either.” He yanked the door closed behind him and moved toward her, his face snarling and red. “But I don’t give a shit if the Pope came into your tent! You don’t turn paying customers away!”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
He stopped, and for a second she thought he just wanted to scare her, but then he lunged forward and whipped the riding crop across her bare forearm. It felt like a hot poker, burning through her flesh and muscle. A red welt erupted on her white skin, like a streak of fresh blood. She put a hand over it and gritted her teeth, determined not to cry out. He lifted the crop again and she ran to the end of the boxcar. He chased after her.