Light of my Life

Amelia Florence's heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a drumbeat drowning out everything but the blood thrumming in her ears. Escape. That single word echoed in the suffocating silence of the orphanage, a promise she’d made to herself and to the small, trembling hand she clutched.

Five-year-old Gracie, eyes wide with terror, pressed her face against Amelia’s skirt, a silent sob shaking her tiny frame. “Shh,” Amelia whispered, her voice barely a breath. “This will all be over soon. Freedom awaits.”

Taking a deep, bracing breath, Amelia led Gracie down the creaking steps of the three-story house. The old wood groaned under their cautious weight, each squeak a potential betrayal. Around them, the muted cries of fifty-eight other children punctuated the night, a symphony of unseen despair that tugged at Amelia’s own scarred heart.

She knew their pain. She’d lived it since she was nine, since her parents sailed away and never returned, since the words “the ship went down” became the epitaph of her childhood. Her brother gone, her sister vanished, leaving Amelia a true orphan in a place where Mr. and Mrs. Stone, soaked in whiskey, ruled with a cruel hand and a horsewhip.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, they would be free.