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mind, and her brother’s. Tears burst into Anna’s eyes. She released Mary’s nose and mouth, wrapping that hand around Mary’s head, hugging her to herself.
    “I’m sorry, Mary!” She wailed in a strained whisper, kissing her forehead repeatedly.
    Mary gulped air in harsh, sobbing gasps. Around them, girls mumbled and murmured, turning in the straw.
    “I’m so sorry, Mary, I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes streamed. “I swear, I didn’t mean it.” Anna dropped the little girl into the straw and sprinted for the door.
    She plunged into the corridor without the key or her shoes. Mary’s weeping drifted out behind her, chased her into the hall. It was too late now. Too late to turn back, too late for stealth, too late for a clean get away. She had no plan. She had no clever ideas. She had only one thought, but that thought filled her mind, behind the boiler at ten o’clock.
    Her bare feet slapped the stone floor as she dashed toward the Great Round Room. Tapestries fluttered on either side, giving life to long dead saints and devils. The cyclopean eye of Abbess McCain’s office was dark, no stern silhouette watched from above.
    Anna sprinted for the thick shadows surrounding the rotunda’s door. Just as she reached them, a stout figure stepped from the gloom. Sister Eustace loomed two feet in front of her. Anna had no time to stop. She plowed straight into the old nun’s bulk.
    It was like running into a padded tree. Anna bounced back and sat with a thud on the flagstones. She gaped up at Sister Eustace, as powerless to breathe as Mary had been. It felt as if the nun had taken hold of her windpipe and was crushing it. Nothing ran through Anna’s head now but a white-hot scream.
    Towering over Anna, Sister Eustace appeared to shake with rage. She uttered odd sounds, tinkling sounds like a wind chime. As the blizzard of terror in Anna’s mind settled into glittering drifts, she realized it wasn’t anger that shook Sister Eustace, it was laughter, a wispy, stifled giggling. The red patches on her cheeks were not from rage but high merriment.
    As Anna realized this, Sister Eustace’s features changed. Her hair darkened, her skin bronzed. Her form melted away like a candle in a furnace, condensing into the younger, thinner Sister Dolores. She quickly covered her lips with one finger, giggling through it.
    Anna slumped sideways and vomited fish stew across the floor.
    “Who do you think is going to have to clean that up?” Sister Dolores asked in a laughing whisper. She hooked a hand under Anna’s arm and lifted her to her feet. “Come now, Anna, I’m just having a little fun with you. No need for all this excitement.”
    Anna’s legs felt like noodles and her stomach like water. The corridor swayed back and forth as if adrift on the waves.
    “Sister Dolores,” Anna said in a vacant voice. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m looking for my brother. Have you seen him?”
    “I don’t think so…”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “I’d rather not say.”
    “I’m sure not,” she chuckled. “But you may want these.” Sister Dolores handed Anna her shoes and the key.
    Anna stared wide-eyed and wondering.
    “Would you also like me to tuck your little ones in and close the door to your hall? Perhaps I should look out for them and keep them from trouble while you’re away?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Anna stammered.
    “Very well, then. You better be off to…” she waved her hand in the air, “…to wherever it is you are going. But may I ask of you one favor?”
    “Anything, ma’am.”
    “If you do see my little brother, Joey, don’t tell him I’m looking for him.” Sister Dolores walked toward Anna’s dormitory, shifting back into her Sister Eustace disguise. “Thanks, dear.”

Chapter 8
    Anna barely recognized the factory. It was quiet and still and dark. She was a tiny speck of life in its vast and cavernous vault. Far up near the ceiling, the windows were nothing but black rectangles