Free The Night Gardener by Jonathan Auxier Page B

mean that they were somehow allowed to take things—but of course they weren’t. Kip looked at the paper. He imagined how impressed Ma and Da would be to see a letter so fine. And surely one sheet wouldn’t be missed, would it? “Maybe we could figure out some other ways to pay ’em back for what we take,” he said.
    Molly snapped her fingers. “That’s just what we’ll do! I’ll work some extra chores, and you collect a few more bunches of flowers—all the paper in the world ain’t worth one of your blossoms, and that’s a fact.”
    Kip smiled. He knew she was just being nice, but he liked hearing it nonetheless. “All right,” he said. “Let’s write a letter.”
    “Perfect!” Molly took the paper from him and laid it on the lid of the box. She produced an inkwell and pen from her cloth and wet the nib. “How do we start it?”
    “Dear Ma and Da
,” Kip said, leaning closer. He watched as she wrote the words down. When she had finished, she looked to him forfurther dictation. Kip thought a moment. “
We,
um,
me and Molly
…” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He had never written a real letter before, and he wanted it to be very official.
    Molly tapped the end of the pen against her bottom lip, thinking. “How about:
We hope this finds you in good health
?” she said.
    “That’s perfect! Fancy, just like a real letter!” Kip leaned over his sister and watched her write. “Next, tell ’em:
We’re in ugly England. Where are you?
” After that, the words came more naturally. He told their parents all about the orphanage, and leaving the city, and the scary old witch Hester, and the sourwoods, and the pale family, and the house, and the big tree, and the man in the fog, and most of all he told their parents that they loved them and missed them and wanted them to come back right away.
    When the letter was finished, Molly signed her name and then helped Kip sign his. They carefully folded the paper and put it into the envelope and sealed the flap with wax from a candle Molly had swiped from the pantry.
    Kip sat back on his hands, staring out across the lawn. The sun was fully hidden now, and stars were starting to show in the night sky. He took his sister’s hand. “I hope they find it soon,” he said, imagining what grand adventures the little envelope was about to sail out on.
    His sister stared out at the house, which was dark but for one light at a small window on the second floor. “Aye,” she said softly. “Me, too.”

istress Windsor fit a glove over her porcelain fingers. “I should be back within the half hour, at which time I would like tea.”
    Molly held open the kitchen door, which led to the garden. “Of course, mum,” she said, bowing. As soon as the woman was outside, Molly closed the door and listened to the house. She could hear Alistair and Penny playing up in their bedrooms. Master Windsor was working in the study. Molly took the kettle off the stove and went downstairs to the servants’ quarters. She slipped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. A moment alone. She slid a hand into her apron pocket and removed the envelope addressed with her parents’ names. She stared at the made-up address, written in her own clumsy hand. The letter inside did not weigh much, and yet it felt very, very heavy.
    In a brief moment of weakness, she had shared her fears with Kip, which had led to the pair of them writing a letter that, for a variety of reasons, could not be delivered. The logical thing wouldhave been to destroy the letter, but every time she’d had an opportunity to burn it or throw it away, she’d hesitated. Kip had poured his very heart into its composition, and to ignore that seemed cruel, like setting fire to a prayer.
    Molly removed her old trunk from the wardrobe and opened the lid. This was where she hid the things she did not want to think about. Inside lay the rags she and Kip had worn before coming to the house. Beside them sat the old