Mar

Caroline's tears unsettled Mar more than she could explain. She'd never seen the younger girl like this before—even when William fell she hadn't cried. She'd panicked and shouted and gasped for breath, but she'd known what to do. But the boys had reduced her to confused sobbing in moments, and without Caroline's leading hand Mar had been completely lost. Mar was used to that; the boys rather reminded her of prisoners back home. There was nothing she could do about them except try to stay away and hope that Daddy or the guards could keep her safe. It was unpleasant, but it was too familiar to be a shock.

But there was something very wrong about seeing Caroline like that. She was supposed to be happy. And now, looking at Jacob's face, she felt even worse. Guilt pulled at her like an anchor, rooting her where she stood and urging her to confess. It would be over quicker that way.

She tried to reassure herself that Jacob, at least, would not punish her. Somehow, it didn't help. She wished she could melt into the floor rather than have to answer. What would he think when she told him how she'd stood by and watched while they had reduced Caroline to tears?

"Um," she said, since she couldn't melt. "There were... some boys... we were just coming back. They pushed her down and took the coins, and... they kept..." She looked away, flushed with shame. "They were saying things. And kicking. I didn't—I didn't know what to do. So I didn't—I couldn't—I didn't do anything."

"Someone else came and got them to go away," she concluded. After a moment of silence, she dared a peek at Jacob's face to see how bad it was.