Izzy's hands trembled as she smoothed the wrinkles in her last dress, folding it neatly into her suitcase. It felt like she was in a movie theatre, watching someone else's life play out in front of her. Surely this wasn't real.

Maria sat in her bed across the room, her knees pulled up to her chin, red curls bobbing up and down as she sobbed uncontrollably. "Don't hate me, Izzy! I didn't know they were gonna send you away!"

Izzy squeezed the suitcase shut and fastened it with mechanical movements. She wasn't angry with Maria. She was going to miss her terribly. They'd slept in the same room ever since the day Maria was born, twelve years ago.

Her shoulders slumped as she turned to face the little girl. Maria flew over to her, her frilly pink nightgown billowing out around her.

"I'm so sorry Izzy!" She threw her arms around Izzy's neck.

"It's not your fault. It's mine." She rested her head on her sister's soft curls. "I'll be back soon. It's not like I'll be gone forever."

But even as she spoke the words, she didn't quite believe them. Just that morning, she'd laid in bed thinking her world had changed. She'd been convinced she'd be married, anxious to start a life of her own. Now, she knew her world had changed. In one phone call her life had been shattered.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, she pulled herself away from Maria and wrestled the heavy suitcase down from her bed. It was late, and she was exhausted.

Her mother hadn't spoken a word to her since she'd told her she had to leave. Their family dinner had been dead silent. Everyone around the table choked down their food, avoiding the subject completely, which also meant avoiding her. She'd felt like an outcast, as if she'd already left.

There was a soft rap on the door. "Izzy?" Sam's voice squeaked through the door.

"Come in, Sammy."

He cracked the door open and stepped in, eyes red with tears. When he saw her suitcase lying on the floor, he face contorted. "Why do you have to go, Izzy?"

She knew he was too young to understand. Pulling him over to her, she grasped his face, studying him through blurry eyes. Would he look different when she came back? She tried to memorize the line of freckles that scattered over his nose. "You can write me," she said. "We can be pen pals until I get back."

Sam sniffed, frowning. "Why are Mama and Daddy being so mean to you?"

She cast Maria a sideways glance, remembering her mother's words. Sammy was too young to be trusted with a secret. "I'm not feeling well, Sammy. I have to go somewhere to get better. Then, I'll come back home."

The blood drained from his face at her words. His lip quivering, he leaned forward. "Are you gonna die?"

"No Sammy, I'm not going to die."

Izzy wanted to laugh, but his words sent a chill through her. She'd heard of women dying during childbirth. At her mother's ladies tea, they often talked about labor. Some of them said the pain was unlike anything they'd ever felt. A bitter taste formed in her mouth at the realization that she would deliver the baby, whether she liked it or not—alone, with no one else she knew or loved.

"Izzy?" Sam cried. Both he and Maria studied her, their faces full of concern.

"I'll be fine." Her voice wasn't convincing. "Don't worry, it will only be a few months."

***

The roar of the train speeding down the tracks towards the station drowned out Izzy's thoughts. Her mother stood stiffly at her side, her light gray tailored pea coat perfectly accenting her figure. She clutched her purse tightly to her middle, a large hat covering most of her solemn face.

"Be good, Isadora." Her voice was careful and practiced. "We'll be waiting anxiously for your return, when you've recovered."

Izzy flinched. Her mother was already acting out the lie they'd concocted, worried someone would overhear. She could imagine her spinning up a story about her falling ill with pneumonia to her friends at ladies tea next week.

On her other side, her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her cheek. The roughness of his whiskers and smell of his aftershave lingered when he pulled back. "Be strong, Izzy." His voice was raw, sadness penetrating his blue eyes.

Maria and Sam hadn't been allowed to see her off. They'd both cried themselves into a tizzy up until the moment she'd left. Her mother had forbidden them to come out of the house, fearing they'd make a scene.

Ricky hadn't wanted to come. Izzy could tell that he was disappointed in her—maybe he was embarrassed as well. He hadn't even said goodbye.

The train doors opened and the line pushed forward. Izzy bit her lip, drawing in a deep breath as she turned to her parents. She wasn't going to cry.

She was going to be strong and dignified—at least that might make her mother a little proud. She held the ticket tightly in one hand, her suitcase in the other. Her mother's eyes were distant when they met hers.

"Goodbye—I love you," she said quietly, a lump forming in her throat.

"Get well, Isadora. We'll miss you." Her mother pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Her father reached out and squeezed her hand, then quickly released it. His head was down as he and her mother walked away.

A skinny boy around her age pried her luggage from her tight grip, jolting her back to reality. She followed the line up the steps and into the train, her ticket nearly crumpled in her hand.

She felt her heart shrivel up as she found her seat. The last two days had carried more pain than she'd felt in a lifetime. She was starting to become practiced at shutting all feelings out—simply for the sake of finding the will to live. Her stomach jumped again causing her to cringe. She knew it wasn't right, but she hated the thing inside of her.

"Where are you headed, dear?" came the  frail voice of an elderly woman seated beside her.

Where was she headed? St. Mary's Home for Unwed Mothers, a catholic institution on an island in the middle of nowhere, six hours away from home. As far from gossip as possible—her mother had made sure of that.

Fixing a polite smile on her face, she turned to the old woman. "I'm on my way to visit my aunt." Her cheeks reddened.

She rarely ever lied. Even though the old woman was a complete stranger, she felt sick inside.

The woman's wrinkled, brown eyes were warm, holding Izzy's a little too long. She looked down at her hands.

"Well, that's nice dear. Does your aunt live far?" The old woman unclasped her purse and pulled out two pieces of peppermint. She popped one in her mouth and held out the other to Izzy. "My name is Mabelle, Mabelle Donovan. I'm traveling to see my daughter."

Izzy took the mint, wishing the woman would leave her to her thoughts. But, she'd been raised to be polite and to respect her elders.

"I'm Isadora. My aunt lives quite far from here, on an island. Drummond Island."

The old woman's eyebrows lifted slightly at her last words and she immediately wished she hadn't been so specific. Was it possible she knew about the home for unwed mothers on the island? Why hadn't she just said St. Ignace or some other city along the way? Her cheeks burned and she suddenly felt like her secret was out—already. And she hadn't even gotten off the train.

"Have you been there before?" the old woman pressed. "It's a beautiful island."

Izzy straightened. "You've been there?"

The old woman nodded, a far off look in her eyes. "A long time ago."

Silence ensued after her words. Izzy stared out the window at the landscape rolling by, nothing but dense forest. She turned to find the old woman studying her, her eyes cloudy.

She put a thin, crooked hand on Izzy's wrist, squeezing it. "It will all turn out alright," she said softly, her dark eyes searching Izzy's. "It's not the end."

Izzy's mouth moved to form the words, but nothing came out. Finally she managed, "I..."

"No need to say anything else, dear."

The train came to a halt. She slowly rose, and gave Izzy one last squeeze of her hand before she left. "Don't lose hope," she whispered.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please click the little star if you did! Next chapter, Izzy arrives at the home for unwed mothers, and her new life begins. Will she remember the old woman's words?