INSTANT BESTSELLER, THE GIRLS WITH NO NAMES
Enter the Gilded Age of New York City in the 1910s,
when suffragettes marched in the street,
unions fought for better work conditions—and girls were confined
to the House of Mercy for daring to break the rules.
I lay with my cheek pressed to the floor, the cement cool against my spent rage. I’d screamed. I’d bitten and scratched. Now I was paying for it, but I didn’t care. I’d do it again.
Rolling onto my back, I held my hand in front of my face, but only black stared back at me. They’d left me in complete darkness. My palm throbbed where a splinter of wood had pierced it, a glorious wound of rebellion. A wash of cold air drifted across my face and I shot upright, certain it was the ghost of one of the forgotten girls. Fear pricked the soles of my feet, turning into pins and needles nicking their way up my calves. How long would they leave me here? Would they starve me, forget about me until I began to rot and stink? I imagined Sister Gertrude dumping my wasted body into a grave next to other nameless girls. My family would never know what happened.