Free Shadows Fall Away by Kit Forbes

wanted to do something, to help, but there was almost nothing I could do except tend their obvious ailments and urge them to go the quarter mile down Whitechapel Road to the London Hospital to seek further treatment.
    Annie stopped laughing first and touched my arm in a gesture of reconciliation. “Don’t take no offense, dearie. We knows ya means well.”
    My frustration boiled deep inside me. Being condescended to by whores, of all people, was infuriating. No one took me seriously. No one. Just because I was “only eighteen.”
    With a muttered “fine.” I stormed off, not caring where I was going. First that arrogant American this morning, laughing at me, then sternly telling me to stay away from Whitechapel as if he had some right to direct my comings and goings. Now Annie and the others mocked me. Again.
    I would show them. I would show them all. All I needed was some time to think, to plan, to come up with a solution that could make a difference in their lives, something that would at least convince them to get decent medical attention.
    I plunged into the open-air market before I realized it and stopped, shocked. Everything seemed so normal, so commonplace, as if there had not been a horrible murder the night before, as if the killer didn’t still stalk these streets. He could even be here, in the market.
    The very thought made my skin crawl and I spun quickly around, scanning the crowd for anyone suspicious but found one hauntingly familiar.
    I took a step to approach but stopped when he grabbed a girl of no more than twelve, spun her around, and pushed her down.
     
    ***
     
    Mark
     
    I instinctively grabbed, spun, and pushed the thief to the ground, seconds before a shrill voice called out, “Mr. Stewart!”
    Keeping the thief pinned, I looked for the speaker. Genie Trambley charged toward me with a fire in her eyes and her umbrella striking the ground angrily with each step.
    Genie shoved me with an angry scowl and helped the thief to his feet, or rather, her feet.
    My pickpocket was a girl, ragged and filthy, who stood glaring at me like I was the bad guy. Yeah, I was rough. I didn’t realize it was a girl just someone trying to rip me off.
    Genie fussed over the girl, making sure she was uninjured before turning back to me. Seeing her chance, the pickpocket looked for escape. I tried to grab her but Genie inserted herself between us and the girl took off.
    “What kind of a man are you, Mr. Stewart? Attacking young girls in broad daylight!” Genie punctuated her verbal assault with the end of her umbrella, driving it into my chest with each exclamation. “What vile perversions did you have in mind?”
    I wrenched the umbrella out of her hands. “She’s a little thief!”
    “Was it absolutely necessary to throw her on her face?” Genie demanded, trying to snatch back her umbrella. “Have you such an utter contempt for the female gender, sir? You seem to think you can tell them when to come and when to go and what to do and what not to do and treat them however you want as if you were ordained by the Almighty Himself!”
    “What?” I stared. She kept giving me the evil eye. “You don’t have a freakin’ clue. If you could get past your own stupid prejudices you might be able to see that!”
    “My what?” Genie gasped.
    “You’re so convinced men are bad, no matter what I do, you’ll see it in your own twisted little way as proof of whatever it is you want to believe.” I waved the handle of the umbrella in her face, but stopped short of actually touching her. She backed up, knocking into people who jostled her back to me.
    “I didn’t know it was a girl and I sure wouldn’t have been as rough with her if I had—but I might still have taken her down because she’s a thief! But that doesn’t matter to you because you know it all and are always right, aren’t you?” I shoved her umbrella back into her hands. “Here, take your umbrella and your attitude and leave me alone!”
    I