Mrs.

Mabel came within the hour — an old woman who had spent decades of her life attending the births and injuries and quiet emergencies of our town, and who was the closest thing Maple Ridge had to a doctor.

She sent me out of the room and examined Vivienne alone, and when she came back into the kitchen, her face was grave.

“That girl was bound, tightly, for a long time,” she said, washing her hands.