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“Hey. Don’t you dare. It wasn’t my money to begin with. It was the nuns’, and heaven knows, they owed you.” Mairin gripped

her friend’s hand. “Really, Angela, let it go. I don’t need anything from you except to know you’re all right. Because I’m all right, really. I have a job. I have plans. That’s all in the past. Let’s keep it there, okay?”

“Oh, Mairin. You’re the best.”

“We’re all the best. Look at us now.”

Angela expelled a happy sigh. “I’m so damn glad you’re one of the ones who got away.”

“Same here, Angela. It’s such a relief to see you. I’m back with my mam. I thought I’d never forgive her for sending me to

that place, but she told me some things that happened in Ireland, and I think I understand her better.”

“That’s good, Mairin. I’m glad to hear it.”

Mairin hesitated, then said, “Angela, my mother had a baby at a Magdalene laundry in Limerick, and it messed her up but good.

Do you know, the nuns there tried to tell her the baby didn’t survive? Mam found out that they gave her little boy to an American

couple. That’s how she ended up here in Buffalo. She came to find him, but she never did.” Mairin looked out at the Falls.

“She found my dad instead.”

Angela squeezed her hand, then sobered. “I wish my baby had survived. Even though her father was... you know. None of that

was her fault. I really wish she could have lived.”

“Of course you do.” Mairin squeezed back.

“Did the nuns lie to me?” Angela asked. “The way they did to your mother?”

Mairin grimaced. “I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

“My gran had the death certificate. Said she threw it away, though. Said she was erasing my sin. She won’t hear a thing from

me. I told her how terrible it was for me—the birth and the loss of the baby. She pretends it never happened at all.” She

rolled her eyes.

“Angela, I’m sorry. It’s terrible what happened to you.” And to her mam. And to Fiona. How many girls had been punished for

a pregnancy?

“I’m doing better now.”

“I try not to think about it. You know, all the stuff that happened.”

Angela nodded. “Same here. But... Miss Adler from the library said I should get some help. You know, like counseling. There’s

a counselor at the college that I talk to.”

“You mean, like a shrink?”

Angela grinned. “Well, not like Sigmund Freud, where I have to lie on a sofa and pour my heart out. Just... the counselor

helps me talk through some things.”

“And does it work?”

She was quiet. Her porcelain-blue eyes were distant for a moment. “Yeah. Sometimes, at least.”

“That’s good.”

“What else, Mairin? You look so good.”

“Well, at work, I’ve been doing something...” She felt a bit bashful, but she knew Angela would understand. “Sometimes

when I see a girl like we were—you know, lost or in some sort of trouble—I try to convince Mr. Eisman, my boss, to hire her.

So she doesn’t end up in a place like the Good Shepherd. I try to find girls to help at Eisman’s before the system finds them.

It doesn’t always work,” she admitted. “But when it does, I feel as if I’ve actually done something.”

“Of course you have, Mairin.”

“Maybe I’m trying to make up for screwing up the day we ran away.”

“Stop. You didn’t screw up. You gave us a chance, and now we know at least two of us are doing okay.”

“I think about the others, though.”

“So do I. And I think they’re better off because of the chance you took.”

For the first time, Mairin looked back on that day and felt something other than regret. “Thank you, Angela. Thanks for saying

that.”

“Because I mean it. Because it’s true. Now. What else?” Angela brightened. “Tell me something good.”

“I’m seeing a guy I really like.” She just blurted it out. “I think I’ve been half in love with him all my life. His name’s

Flynn Gallagher.”

“Saying his name makes you sparkle,” Angela said. “And that is a very good sign.”

“We’ve been talking about this crazy dream together,” Mairin said. “We want to move to a farm, grow things, have a family

one day.”

“I hope you do, Mairin. You deserve it. You deserve every happiness.”

They talked for more than an hour, and ended with promises to stay in touch. “Let’s not lose each other ever again,” Mairin

said.

“We won’t,” Angela said. “My God, it’s good to see you. You’re really the only one who knows, if you get what I mean.”

“I do, Angela.” She squeezed her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

Now Mairin understood why her brother was so diligent about going to his VA meetings. The only ones who truly understood what

they’d gone through were those who had gone through the same thing. It was both painful and gratifying to reconnect with Angela.

On the one hand, they shared a powerful bond. But on the other hand, the encounter brought back memories that Mairin usually

managed to relegate to the deepest, most hidden reaches of her heart.

Mairin was excited to tell Flynn about finding Angela, yet the conversation was harder than she’d anticipated. She went to

his apartment in town, an efficiency walk-up near his truck warehouse. “I loved seeing her,” she told him. “I’ve been trying

to find the girls every year on the Fourth of July, and finally one of them showed up. She’s wonderful, Flynn. I want you

to meet her one day.”

“I’d like that,” he said, holding her gaze with his. “I want to know everyone you know, Mairin.”

The warmth of his words touched her heart. “Flynn, I don’t know what I would have done without you that day,” she said. “The day I escaped. You saved me. You really did.”

He slipped his arms around her, his touch easy and assured. “I tried to help. But you’re the one who did the saving, Mairin.”

She felt the strength and safety of his embrace. “It was... it’s hard to explain, but it was a joyous moment when I saw

Angela. And it was also really tough. It brought back a lot of memories. Like a tidal wave of memories.”

“It sucks, what happened to you,” he said, his lips close to her ear. “I wish it had never happened. But it did happen, and

you survived, and I bet it made you stronger.”

“Stronger than what?” she asked. “I wasn’t strong. I was fifteen. Those memories are hard to shake. I might never shake them.”

She shuddered. “I guess we all have scars. Liam—he has scars, but he seems okay, you know. Goes to his meetings and stuff.”

Then she looked up into his eyes, and it was like looking at heaven. “I don’t have scars, Flynn. I have wounds.”

“Oh, baby,” he said, pressing a long, soft kiss to her forehead. “I wish I could save you from that.”

“I’ll never be okay,” she whispered, even though she felt the power of his embrace.

“I can’t save you,” he said. “But I see you, Mairin. I see you.”

Somehow, that was enough. She thought of all the times he’d come to check on her at the commune, watching over her, even from

a distance. She melted deeper into his embrace, and he kissed her and said, “I want to make love to you, Mairin.”

“I want that, too,” she said, her hands mapping the topography of his shoulders and arms. “I do.” She knew it was the answer

he was waiting for. “You do realize, I grew up believing sex outside of marriage was wrong.”

He pulled back. “That’s okay, then—”

“—but I was wrong. The Church is wrong. It’s a bunch of Catholic nonsense.” She kissed him again, savoring his taste and the softness

of his lips, then whispered, “The nuns always told me if we had sex before marriage, we’d burn in hell.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” he said, kissing her back. “Let the two of us burn right now.”

“Where are we going?” Mairin asked, looking over at Flynn as they drove together out past Gardenville.

They often took rides on Friday after work with the radio turned up high.

Their dates usually ended up in a tumble of lovemaking at Flynn’s place.

During her time at the commune, she’d learned about sex.

But Flynn showed her what love felt like.

Today, he seemed more purposeful. Energized, even.

“I had a meeting at the bank this morning.” He turned down the volume, then reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining

with hers.

Her pulse quickened. “You got the loan,” she said.

“The bank turned me down.” He stared grimly at the road ahead.

“Oh, Flynn.” She squeezed his hand.

“Until Mr. Fiorelli guaranteed the loan for me.” His expression changed to a grin that highlighted his incredible face, with

its strong jaw and piercing eyes.

It took her a moment to realize what that meant. “You got it,” she whispered. “You finally got it.”

“It’s crazy, right?”

“It’s crazy, and exactly right.” They had talked for a long time about their shared dream, but it had always been only that—a

dream, glistening in some unreachable distance that was littered with in-between hurdles. “This is amazing,” she said. “I

can’t believe it’s happening.” Her pulse quickened as she recognized the rise in the road and the rolling green hills under

the summer sky. He turned the truck onto a rutted track marked with a Posted—No Trespassing sign. “Remember this place?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do. Wow, it’s even more of a wreck now than it was when I left.” The painted bus was overgrown

with weeds and vines, the peace signs and slogans peeling and faded. In the distance, the house and barn and outbuildings

lay in a state of quiet abandonment.

She was speechless as he drove up to the house. A flood of memories came rushing back. She could still hear the echoes of

bygone music and laughter, shouting and drumming. She remembered sitting for hours by the pond with a chain of wildflowers

in her hair, trying to figure out who she was.