Excerpt from Breaking the Shackles

T the prison gate Lady Molly paused, bowing her head, pressing a hand beneath her heart and clasping her nether lip between her teeth, under the pang that wrung her heart. The warder on the other side of the road cast a glance at her, and with unmoved face paced out his beat before the governor's house maybe she was not the first woman he had seen bowed in agony before that gate of despair. The child by her side, mite as she was, perceived her mother's pain, and nestling closer in her skirts, pressed her cheek against the hand that held hers. Ve'y tired, mammy? She asked. Better now, dearie, answered the mother, straightening herself. We didn't know the hill was so steep.

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