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better.” She didn’t dare ask for money.
    “And I thank you for everything,” Adelhaid replied gratefully. She pointed at the chest. “Open that up and bring me the little blue velvet purse.”
    Madlen walked to the chest and looked inside. She came back to the bed with the purse and gave it to Adelhaid. “I didn’t have any time to pay you before you left. Take this.” She withdrew a small pouch. “Thank you again for everything.”
    Madlen curtsied politely, weighing the pouch in her hand. “This is too much.”
    “No, I insist.”
    Madlen nodded. “I must take my leave now. I wish you a speedy recovery.”
    “Madlen, tell me before you go: Can I count on you, if I happen to be in the family way once again? I’m sure you are just as good as Clara.”
    “Of course.” Madlen curtsied again and walked out of the room.
    As she left the house, she inhaled deeply. She simply couldn’t understand Adelhaid. She had been beaten and raped until her baby died. And now she claimed that she wanted to get pregnant again by her abusive husband. Madlen clutched the little pouch full of money. In any case, her father would be proud of her. She went to the nearest street corner before daring to look inside the pouch. Her eyes widened in delight. This was more money than she’d earned working for Clara in six months. Her heart beat faster. Perhaps Jerg would think twice about selling her off to the old man if she could bring pouches full of money home on a regular basis. She shook her head. The idea was ridiculous. Few had as much money as this noblewoman, and Madlen was still just a young apprentice birth assistant. Only the truly desperate would hire her. Her morale deteriorated as she made her way home. In a week, Heinfried would take her away. There was no escaping her fate.
    When she arrived home, Kilian was alone in the woodshop. “Where’s Father?” Madlen asked after she greeted her brother.
    “In town. You must have passed him on the way.”
    “But I didn’t see him at all.”
    Kilian shrugged. “Then you must have missed each other.”
    “Look at this, Kilian.” Madlen held the little money pouch underneath his nose. Her brother took it and weighed it in his hand before he opened it. He whistled appreciatively. “Well, would you look at that. Our little girl.”
    “It’s from Adelhaid. I told her it was too much, but she insisted.”
    Kilian pulled the pouch’s cord tight. “No wonder.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Don’t you understand? She is buying your silence.”
    Madlen stared at the pouch. “Do you really think that?”
    “Of course.” Kilian noticed the disgusted expression on his sister’s face. “Now don’t get any crazy ideas about returning the money. If she wants to give it to you, that’s her business. You would not have turned him in anyway.”
    “I won’t take it.” She pushed it at her brother, but he took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.
    “And whatever you do with it, little sister”—he took a step back and lifted his finger—“don’t make the silly mistake of giving it all to Father.”
    “You mean, I shouldn’t tell him?”
    “Oh sure, and he’ll want it all. But don’t give him more than twenty-five pfennigs.”
    “Why not?”
    “Madlen, listen to me. The spice merchant is going to put you in a beautiful house where you will want for nothing. But this money”—he pressed the pouch into her hand—“will buy you some freedom. None of his employees will keep your secrets out of kindness. If you don’t want your husband finding something out, then I advise you to hide your money and use it wisely.”
    Madlen shook her head. “I never would have thought of that.”
    “You have to think like this now if you want a real future.” Kilian urged, “Give me the money again.”
    She handed it to him, and he pulled out some coins and laid them on the wooden table. “Show this to Father later this evening; he’ll be more than pleased with