Free An Unexpected Sin by Sarah Ballance Page B

Elizabeth’s life to be spared.
    As unlikely as such an outcome seemed, reprieve had happened for another of Salem’s residents.
    One of the first to be arrested had been the midwife, Lydia, who had been in Salem only a year at the time of her arrest. Though at the time, the accusations had just begun and the entire town had become frantic to purge itself of witches and Lydia, as a relative newcomer, made an ideal choice for their sickness. After all, if the people of Salem were too terrified to stand for their loved ones, what of Lydia—a mere acquaintance to most? In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Lydia had escaped her fate at the gallows—rumored an act of pardon by the governor himself—and thus Anne had held onto faith that Elizabeth, too, would be spared.
    This news was just too, too horrible to fathom.
    Anne, so stunned that she had not yet moved from the doorway, grabbed Prudence’s arm and pulled her in from the rain. “This cannot be! Are you certain?”
    Prudence shook her head. Tears streamed down her face. “I know she was found guilty by the court, but how can her own neighbors truly believe that she is guilty? Who are the few who celebrate this horrible occasion? You know they are now saying that she opened the clouds and brought this rain. They will say this weather is the vengeance of a witch, and they will call it even more proof against her!”
    Anne wanted to deny Prudence’s fears, but verily, her words were true. Everything of late had been blamed on witches—there was no reason the weather should be spared. But Elizabeth…could it really be too late for her? “When did you get word?”
    “The merchant John Howe said the gallows have been prepared, then he gave me passage here on his wagon.” Prudence hugged herself, clutching her arms tightly. With the sun behind thick clouds, the day had turned unseasonably cool. “We must go to her.”
    “No, no, no,” Anne shook her head, her fingers drawn to her mouth.
    “Please. I cannot go alone,” Prudence rubbed her arms and looked past Anne, presumably for Anne’s mother, whose usual practice was to greet all visitors to the inn. Perhaps in the storm she had not heard Prudence’s arrival.
    “I did not mean…of course we will go,” Anne grabbed a waistcoat for protection against the chill brought on by the rain, glancing at the stairs as she slid the garment over her clothes. Her mother had almost certainly returned to her quarters. Anne hesitated but a moment before choosing to leave without saying good-bye. Her anger had not waned, and now she had not the time to defend her decision to attend the hanging. Anne’s mother would verily argue the gallows were no place for a young woman, but the terrible truth was that one had found her way there nonetheless.
    One of Anne’s dearest friends was about to die.
    Anne could not let her die alone.

Chapter Nine
    Anne and Prudence stumbled down the road, hand in hand. The pouring rain that had seemed to keep travelers away from the inn did not keep the crowds from gathering at the gallows. Tears could not be counted in the drench, but it quickly became clear how profoundly affected were many of the observers. The only joyful people among the group were in a tightly knit circle at the front. The Abbot girls. All but one younger than Anne, they stood smiling alongside their mother, each looking as if they awaited a grand event. The remaining villagers stood in silent, emotionless observance—among them Rebecca Mather, the woman who had pushed for Lydia’s arrest. Her lips were set in a slight tilt, as if she entertained a smile.
    Fury balled in Anne’s chest. What a horrid woman. How could anyone find joy in something so cruel? And why would Goody Abbot bring her children to witness such an event?
    Anne forced herself to look past them and found the remainder of the observers gazing on in stunned silence, their faces strained and bleak. She knew from having witnessed a previous hanging that some