Free The Grave Robber's Secret by Anna Myers

…” Her words trailed away.
    Robby moved one of the two straight wooden chairs from the table to be close to the bed. “What things?”
    In the lamplight he saw her shudder. “Things I can’t speak of.”
    â€œWhat business does he go to each day?”
    â€œI don’t know, Robby, and that’s the truth.” She sighed deeply. “I’m sorry I lied to you about North Carolina.” She paused for a moment. “We lived in Boston, but you must not tell anyone.”
    â€œWhat did he work at in Boston?”
    Martha looked over her shoulder at the door. “He worked with my uncle. They had a shipping business. We lived in a big splendid house with a lady to do the cooking.” She shook her head. “We had to leave there after my uncle died. Mama and I were so sick, but Papa said we had to go. He loaded us up in a carriage with blankets wrapped around us. Mama died in New York. Papa stopped just long enough to have her buried. Then we drove off and left her. Papa sold the horse and carriage, and we came here on a train.”
    Robby thought there must be more to the story. Why would Mr. Burke travel with a sick wife and daughter? He really wanted to hear it all. He could see, though, that Martha had no intention of giving other details. He would not make her uncomfortable by pressing her to tell. Maybe someday she would want to talk about it.
    They were quiet for a while, then Robby said, “I had a little sister, and her name was Lolly.”
    â€œWhat happened to her?”
    â€œShe died two years ago. In the winter, she got a fever and a cough. Da got her a doctor, but it didn’t do any good.” He stopped and looked at Martha. “She had hair like yours, yellow as sunshine. She was just six when she died. We buried her with her doll.”
    â€œWas your father mean to Lolly?” Martha asked.
    Robby shook his head. “He never was, but he wasn’t really hard on me when I was younger.” He shrugged. “Maybe he would have started hitting her too if she had lived longer. Maybe it is better that she died because I am afraid I might have done something awful to him if ever I saw him lay a hand on Lolly. Losing Lolly made Ma and me awful sad, but Pa just got meaner.”
    They did not talk more. Martha dozed some in the rocker, but Robby was afraid to nap. Every so often, he spooned some elixir or water into Miss Stone’s mouth, and he was able to convince the patient to take a few more small bites of the apple pie. When light began to show through the window, Robby shook Martha’s shoulder. “You best go back to your room now,” he said. “It’s almost day.”
    Before long, Robby heard the front door open and close. Mr. Burke was gone. He went downstairs, where Martha sat eating porridge. Robby got himself a bowl, ate, and was thinking of getting another when a knock sounded on the back door.
    Ma went to open it. “Jane,” she said, “you’ve come at a good time. We’ve porridge to share.”
    â€œIs he here, the one that yells?” Jane leaned into the kitchen and looked all about.
    â€œNo, just Robby and me, and our new friend Martha,” Ma said. “You can come right in and sit at the table.” She was a sad sight, matted hair that had once been red and was now faded and dirty to the point that Robby couldn’t say what color it would be called. There were big dark smudges of what looked like soot on her face, and she wore a brown dress that was torn and filthy.
    â€œI’m terrible hungry,” she said.
    Robby had seen Daft Jane from time to time for as long as he could remember. He had heard it said that she was once normal, but that she lost her wits when her daughter died, and she did often mutter about a lost child. Others said she was born that way and that the baby she rambled about had never existed. They said she only took to the streets after her