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understand? He must have no reason to suspect you are still alive.”
    Susannah stared at her. “Then what
is
he to think? What are you going to tell him?” she asked, afraid to know the answer.
    Sister Mary Genevieve tied a plain black bonnet beneath Susannah’s chin. “That I saw you fall into the river.”
    Susannah’s mind reeled, still unable to believe that she was really daring to try to leave, to believe that she could thwart Edward for good. Sister Mary Genevieve took up Susannah’s dress and tore the sleeve away from the shoulder seam, then tore it again to make a ragged edge on the scrap of wool. She held it up. “I found this tangled in the brambles at the water’s edge.”
    Susannah could see the tale unfolding and dared to hope that Edward might believe it.
    “Father Adler has done this before?” Susannah asked. “What if Edward questions him?”
    The sister threw the remains of Susannah’s gown into the fire, and they watched it flare. “He is well practiced in dealing with men like your husband and cases like yours. He will say nothing that could give you away.”
    Susannah closed her eyes, praying that she could trust these strangers. “Where will I go?”
    “You will go to the port tonight. In the morning, the first westbound boat of the season departs for Detroit, then Mackinac Island—do you know of it?”
    Susannah nodded. She knew what most people in the East knew: the siege of the fort there in 1812, Indians and canoes, the fur trade that had made John Astor rich. But it seemed as remote as the moon.
    “Good. There is a wealthy woman on the island named Magdelaine Fonteneau. She has agreed to provide refuge for you in her home. And to keep you safe until we are sure that your past has been put to rest.”
    “But why? Why would she want to help me?”
    Sister Mary Genevieve gave her a solemn look. “Madame Fonteneau lost her own sister to a man’s violence. Those who could have helped the girl stood by and did nothing.”
    Susannah swallowed. “He killed her?” She thought of the way she had seen Edward lose control of himself when he was in a rage. She knew there were no limits to what he might do.
    Sister Mary Genevieve nodded. “Yes. But we are not going to let that happen to you.”
    “And what about you? What am I to you that you would take such a risk to help me?”
    “You may think that no one knows the truth of what your husband has done, but I can assure you—people know.”
    Susannah winced. Once again she felt exposed, embarrassed. She felt that a stronger woman would have been able to keep the secrets of her household and maintain a graceful façade to the world. Or perhaps a stronger woman would not have allowed her husband to treat her so badly. Would not have allowed things to go so wrong.
    The nun put her hand on top of Susannah’s. “And yet until Marjorie came to me, no one had done a thing to help you. That, to me, is the worst kind of cruelty. Worse even, in a way, than the things your husband has done. I believe we will be judged—in the next life, but in this one too, make no mistake—by whether we do what we can to stop the suffering of others. Do we stand by and ignore another’s pain? Or do we take action to end it?”
    Susannah gave her a skeptical look. She had spent so much time alone with her suffering and now in one day two people, a whole network of people, really, were willing to help her. “And there’s nothing in it for you? You must know that I cannot pay you. Edward is wealthy, yes, but I have no money of my own.”
    “Oh, no. I’m not looking for payment, though you are right that I do ask for one small thing in return.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Madame Fonteneau has been a loyal advocate for the church for many years, and we owe her a great debt. Her life has been difficult. She lost her younger sister, as I said, as well as her older sister, who disappeared from the island the same year. She became a widow at a young age, with a