The Lost Girl of Astor Street

“I’ll run for Matthew.”


“No, she’d die if he saw her this way.” I glance around to get my bearings. It’s a miracle no one has seen yet. “Can you carry her? We can cut between those houses to the alley and then take her through the LeVines’ back door. If you can carry her, I’ll run ahead to phone for her father.”

The repetitive clicking stops and a groan gurgles in Lydia’s throat. Her legs stretch indiscriminately, nudging her skirt up and scraping her silk stockings along the concrete.

The fear that had squeezed my heart eases. “She’s coming out of it.” I lean close to her face. Her eyes are no longer rolled. Now they’re milky, unseeing slits. “Lydia? Can you hear me?” The corner of her mouth twitches up, but it seems involuntary.

I stand and brush crumbs of concrete from my hands. “It’ll be a while before she’s really aware. If it’s like last time.”

“Should I pick her up?”

“Yes.”

Walter presses his flat cap firmer onto his head and crouches beside Lydia. A shudder runs through him, and then he lifts her up into his arms.

I nod to the narrow gap between the houses. “Can you squeeze through there?”

“Just run, Piper. I’ll get her there.”

“Try not to be seen,” I call as I hike my skirts up over my knees and take off. The gap between the houses is so narrow that I can hardly run without one of my elbows brushing against the brick siding. I burst into the alley, look both ways, and run south to the LeVines’ home.

Their back door is locked. I pound on the door while keeping my gaze up the alley, waiting for Walter to come through with Lydia.

Tabitha opens the door, a broom in one hand and a scowl on her weathered, brown face. “Miz Sail, what on earth are you—”

“Lydia,” I pant out. “Call Dr. LeVine.”

The broom clatters to the floor as Tabitha rushes for the telephone.

Footsteps echo in the alley. Walter runs with Lydia clutched to him. The Chicago wind whips her red curls, and also Walter’s hat from his head. But he pays no mind, just runs with her, and my heart seems to explode with appreciation for him.

“Missus!” Tabitha calls from deeper in the house. “It’s Miz Sail. Somethin’s wrong with Miz Lydia!”

I scrape dishes and food to the far end of the kitchen counter, grab a handful of towels to cushion Lydia’s head, and then I rush to hold open the door for Walter.

As he eases Lydia through the doorway, Mrs. LeVine storms into the kitchen. “Where was she? What happened?”

“We found her on the sidewalk near the Barrows’. It looks like she was walking home when the seizure hit. She was still seizing when we found her. We saw maybe a minute of it.”

Walter settles Lydia onto the counter and backs away as Mrs. LeVine leans over her daughter’s motionless body. She presses two fingers to Lydia’s wrist, and with her other hand smooths down her skirt. She gasps at the blood-soaked strands of hair.

I can’t make my voice go above a whisper. “I think that’s where she hit the sidewalk.”

Walter clears his throat. “It doesn’t look very deep, ma’am. Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

He glances at me, and his mouth flickers with a reassuring smile. Walter’s shirt is wet with something. Urine, I think. Heat rushes to my cheeks on behalf of my ladylike friend.

Mrs. LeVine keeps her gaze on Lydia’s hauntingly still face. “Thank you for carrying her home, Walter.” And then, almost to herself, “Why would she have been walking? Where was Matthew?”

“I don’t know.” Taking a full breath seems impossible. “I know he was taking her to watch Cole, but that’s all.”

Lydia shifts on the counter, groans. But then becomes still again.

Tabitha bustles into the room. “Dr. LeVine is on his way, Missus.” Her gaze falls on Lydia, and her shoulders slump. “Oh, Miz Lydia . . .”

“Tabitha, fetch me a wet rag.” The shock seems to have worn off Mrs. LeVine. “And keep the girls out of the kitchen. I don’t want them seeing their sister like this.”

“Yes, Missus.” Tabitha hands her the rag and scurries away to find Hannah and Sarah.

Mrs. LeVine presses the rag to the head wound and turns a severe gaze toward us. “Thank you for delivering her, but I’ll ask that you please allow us to handle this matter as a family now.”

“Yes, of course.” I trail my hand along Lydia’s arm. Her normally fair skin is chalk white, but there’s comfort in the warmth of it. In the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.

“Piper, I trust that you will continue to be discreet in the matter of Lydia’s health.”

“Of course.”

Her gaze flicks to Walter and then back at me. “And that you will impart the importance of discretion to Walter as well.”

“Yes, ma’am. Neither of us will breathe a word. Might I—” I hesitate a second. “Might I ring later to check on her?”

Mrs. LeVine’s mouth purses. “Will that not raise too much attention in your house?”

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