Approaching the school was a very different experience when it was unannounced. Unlike all of the other times, the gate was shut. I exchanged a glance with John- he had never been one to visit the school much. We responded to our childhood in different ways- while I did all that I could to cling to my roots and give back to other children in similar situations, John tried to forget about the pain of his past and move forward.
But he had been a street child, too, once. And I could see that now he was witnessing it himself, his intuition was kicking in, as well. I could see the same concern in his eyes as Eli and Michael got out of the carriage to unlatch the gate. Both him and Robert then moved to help them when the gate proved too heavy for them to shove open alone.
The charity school was completely voluntary- street-children often jumped at the chance at free boarding, food, and education. They could come at any time, and leave at any time. But they rarely left- they had no reason to, when they had only turned to crime to survive and were now being given all that they could need and more.
But then why was the heavy gate sealed shut, locking them in?
Every other time I had been to the school in recent years, Lord Bentley had already been standing outside, or just inside the propped-open front doors, waiting for our arrival. He did not know that we were coming this time, though, so the front door to the school was shut, and nobody was outside. I found it strange that, at this time of day, no children were running about in the schoolyard.
Robert was the one to stride forward and knock on the door. It took several moments for someone to finally make their way to open it, and there was the sound of several locks turning before the door was cracked open.
A child- perhaps 11 or 12, if he were small for his age- stood on the other end, peeking out at us. He shifted nervously, glancing over his shoulder as if worried somebody would come up behind him. "Yes?"
"We are here for a visit," Robert said politely. He gestured towards Michael, Elizabeth and I. "These are the children of Lord Baldwin- the founder and owner of the school."
The boy's uneasiness seemed to grow. "I can only open the door for the milk delivery."
Michael stepped forward, seeming a bit irritated. He was no doubt still annoyed at being pulled away from his revolutionary music box 'invention'. "Our family owns the school. You cannot deny us entry."
Seeing the boy's fear, I pulled Michael away, sending him a glare. I then leaned over slightly, coming to the boy's level. He glanced away from me, unwilling to meet my gaze.
"You do not have to let us in if you do not want to," I soothed. "I know where the key to the side-door is. We will go through that one, instead, and I will make certain that you are not punished in any way. Alright?"
He swallowed hard, but nodded, quicky closing the door. I heard the sound of the many locks being turned back into place.
Michael stared at me. "Amelia, there is no reason for us to go through the side door. Is this about your feeling of something being amiss earlier? Are you really going to do this before Count Robert?"
"I've no problem walking to the side door," Robert promised firmly. Already, he was making his way to the side of the school, walking across the grass.
My brother shook his head slightly, walking beside me. "Amelia, you musn't act like this," He mumbled under his breath. "Mother would be furious. And what of Elizabeth? How shall she marry him if he thinks we cannot even walk through the front door of our own properties?"
I turned to meet my brother's gaze. Michael and I had always been close- he and Elizabeth were twins, so we were fairly close in age, and we had always gotten on well because I did not possess any of the feminine qualities that he so despised.
"Brother, please," I pleaded quietly. I saw his face soften. "Michael, something is wrong here. I know it."
He sighed, shaking his head slightly and looking forward. "If it will put your mind at ease."
"It will." Or it would cause my world to come crashing down.
As always, the spare key was hidden just under the rock behind the rose bush. Father had placed it there back when the school had first opened, after one of the youngest boys had locked the Headmaster out. I was not sure if the current Headmaster was even aware it was here- Lord Bentley had only been assigned to the school for a few years now, since the first Headmaster that had been appointed by Father had passed away.
The door opened with a click, and I pocketed the key. The school was unnaturally quiet. There was no laughter, no playing- no children in sight.
I looked to Michael. "The school should be on break for the summer, should it not?"
Unlike me, my brother had attended boarding school until just a couple years prior, and knew the schedule well. He looked a bit confused himself, now. "It should be. At least for a few more weeks."
I made my way up the stairs, confused to find no children in the classrooms, since being sent back to lessons a bit early in the year was my only guess as to why they were not roaming the building. It was not until I made it to the girls' dormitory that I finally caught sight of them. At first, I wondered if perhaps they had been sent for afternoon naps, as Elizabeth and I so often had in childhood.
But they were not napping. They were all at work, some at sewing machings, and some working by hand. It made sense, I supposed, that they had been sent to practice needlework. I stepped further into the room, coming to stand just behind one little girl to observe what she was making. "Is that going to be a dress?"
She jumped, spinning to face me. She relaxed slightly when she saw it was me- though she surely did not know me, so I did not know why that would be calming. She turned back to her work. "Yes, Miss. I have to hurry and finish, though- I still must make two more."
"For what?" The children here all wore uniforms- and they were provided by the donations sent in by the local nobility. They had no reason to make their own clothing, and certainly not with a quota.
She made a face. "For the shop."
"Shop?"
The child glanced up at me, seeming a bit put out by my questions. "Miss, I really must finish."
"I'm sorry." My eyes scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. I did not see little Lottie, nor the two girls whom I had seen scrubbing the floor before. "Do you know where Lottie is? Or Violet, or Adele?"
"Violet is gone. Adele has been sold. Lottie is being punished." The girl listed off, eyes still on the work before her. Her voice changed in a strange way as she said the words, sounding incredibly distant and unattached.
There was a lot to pick apart from that sentence. I chose to focus on the one that seemed most concerning. "What do you mean Adele has been sold?"
"To a local business. She is a mourner now."
I was so lost that I did not even know what questions to ask. So I went with the one that I supposed would be the simplest, though I would certainly need to find out more about the other girls. "Where is Lottie now?"
The child looked up at me, seeming to be wondering why I was still here speaking to her. "In the Headmaster's office, Miss. I told you she is in trouble."
I knew where that was- and as the others were preoccupied by watching other girls at work, I turned to make my way to Lord Bentley's private office, just near the boy's dormitory, but was distracted by the sound of clanging metal. It was only as I paused in the doorway of the dormitory that I realized Robert was trailing behind me- he almost ran straight into me when I came to a sudden halt.
The boys all held hammers, and were kneeling on the floor, pounding them. Curiously, I stepped further into the room, glancing at the nearest child. He was holding a nail steady with one hand, and using his other to smack it repeatedly with the hammer.
Robert came to kneel just beside the boy, making certain he was in view so as to not startle him before speaking. "What are you doing?"
The boy only briefly glanced up. "Straightening these nails so they can be sold back to the mill."
"Ah," Robert said, pausing to watch as the boy finished up with the nail and moved to add it to a large pile of straightened nails just beside him."How many have you got left?"
The boy gestured to a huge stack of bent nails in the center of the room- there must have been thousands. "We must finish them all by the end of the day. I am not really supposed to talk about it, though."
"We won't tell anyone," I promised, the pieces finally coming together. The children were not receiving the education they were meant to- instead they were being worked to the bone, sewing dresses and straightening nails, and whatever other menial labor jobs could be found.
They were being used. Everything that this school stood for- that my Father stood for- had been destroyed.
In my anger, I turned to Robert, and saw the understanding in his eyes, as well. I opened my mouth to say something- probably some outrageously furious comment, given the level of my anger at this realization- but I never got the chance.
Because just as I went to speak, a child's scream echoed through the school, shaking me to my core. And before I could blink, Robert was gone, racing out the door and towards the sound.
I had no choice but to follow after him.