We walk quickly, and I think of the last time we took this same path to her house. The night she woke me to come help her mother. It seems so long ago, and yet it has not been even a month.
My hand briefly touches my scarf. How much I have changed since coming to Philadelphia.…
Maddy directs me up the stairs and to the door that leads to the flat she once shared with her brothers and sisters. I clutch the small bag I hold tightly. Within moments, she is unlacing me from my black mourning gown and helping me into the cotton pants and long-sleeved shirt that were in the bag.
A wave of homesickness washes over me as the shirt passes over my head. I have not worn these clothes since my time with Mother and the missionaries.
“Do you have the bottle?” Maddy asks. “Hide it in yer pocket until we get in.”
I nod. “I took some from the jar on Father’s desk and put it in a vial.”
“Remember, Annabel, you must go straight there an’ then come straight back to where Mama is. If we should be separated …” She shudders. “It’s not a place you want to be lost in.”
“I am well prepared, Maddy. I have memorized the corridors.”
She bobs her head and then hands me a hat. “If we’re stopped yer my brother Charlie,” she reminds me. “Don’t forget.”
I tuck my long brown hair beneath the hat and give her another nod. We race back down the stairs and away from her house, fighting every second of precious time that is slowly ticking away from us. She leads me down several alleyways until we finally come to a grand stone building that bears the words PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL in engraved letters upon the front of it. It’s so big, I can do nothing more than stare up for a moment.
Maddy nudges me. “Come along, Annabel.”
I keep my head down as I follow her in through the gate and past a guard who seems to be sleeping when he ought to be keeping watch. We enter a poorly lit building with filth smeared upon the walls; and the sounds, as we travel through the corridors to reach the room where her mother is being kept, are haunting. Moans fill the air, punctuated with a slow, steady sobbing that leaves me desperately wanting to help these poor people.
Maddy must notice my anxiousness, because she grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Almost there.”
I keep my eyes on the dirt-encrusted floor and keep moving beside her. When she finally comes to a halt, I look up.
“Go now, Annabel,” she says urgently. “An’ hurry back.”
I squeeze her hand again and then release it, mentally reviewing the steps I need to take to get me to the men’s ward. It’s not a safe place to be, Maddy has warned me. I need to be quick in my mission.
Several steps later, I find my way and the men’s ward is in front of me. Here, there are no sounds of sobbing. Only silence. Locating the third hallway, I turn down it and come to room fifty-seven. The room that Maddy told me I must find.
There are bars across the hole carved out of the wooden door to serve as a window, and I approach it carefully. It’s dimly lit inside, and my eyes take some time to adjust to the bare cot lying on the floor. “Allan?” I whisper tentatively.
I can barely comprehend that he has been here these past two weeks. That he thought the only way to atone for Edgar’s sins was to lock himself away in an insane asylum.
The sound of chains dragging across the floor greets me.
“Allan?” I try again. “I need to speak with you. It’s urgent. I don’t have much time.”
A moment later, his face appears at the door. He has lost an alarming amount of weight. His cheekbones are sharp as razors. The light in his dark brown eyes has been replaced with a vacant stare that worries me.
“Allan?”
His lips part, and he whispers my name. “Annabel …”
“Oh, Allan.” Tears fill my eyes, and I cannot stop myself. I reach my hand up to the bars. He puts a trembling finger out and touches me. “I must be quick. I cannot stay long.” I cast a glance over my shoulder. “I need your help. Father has been kidnapped. We received a ransom note, but when I tried to pay it, he was not returned. I need someone to help me find him.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the small vial. I don’t know if he will take it. Can I even ask such a thing of him? To return to the very state that put him here?
I slide my hand up to the window. I do not have a choice. I must find a way to rescue Father. “The serum,” I say simply.
He withdraws his finger and I cast another glance behind me. My time is growing short. I need to get back to Maddy.
Then he says in a voice so soft I almost think I’m dreaming it, “What do you need?”
“Edgar.” I hold the vial out to him. “I need Edgar.”
Author’s Note
This book is a work of fiction, but there are several real-life connections I found fascinating when I started researching the background for this story. The first is Edgar Allan Poe. So much has been written about his time in Boston, Baltimore, and New York City that, when I found the small, but significant, connection to Philadelphia, I knew it was the perfect setting.
Although “The Tell-Tale Heart” was published in 1843, “The Raven” in 1845, and “Annabel Lee” in 1849, I chose to set this story in the year 1826 to cover the “lost time” while Poe was registered at the University of Virginia. I wondered what might have happened after the semester he spent there if he had taken a position as an assistant in a medical laboratory to support himself.… For this story, I presumed he would have started writing some of the works I referenced much earlier than the years they were published.
Pennsylvania Hospital, the first U.S. hospital, is real and is also located in Philadelphia. (America’s first surgical amphitheater and America’s first medical library are located on the second and third floors of the historic Pine Building of the hospital. I highly recommend you visit them both if you get the chance.)
Annabel’s hero, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, was the first woman physician in the United States. She, too, has a connection to Philadelphia, although I have taken poetic license with two pieces of her history: The first was advancing her timeline by twenty years. Dr. Blackwell was only five years old in 1826. The second was having her achieve her lifelong goal of becoming a surgeon. Due to an eye infection that caused her to lose sight in her left eye, Dr. Blackwell was never able to attain this position. It only felt right in my world to make that dream come true.
As for the Washington Irving reference? Edgar Allan Poe was indeed aware of, and corresponded with, Washington Irving.
Acknowledgments
Great big heaps of thanks to Mollie, fab assistant Katie, and the rest of the team at Foundry Literary + Media for seeing this project off the ground and steering the ship.
Even bigger heaps of thanks to my amazing and wonderful editor, Alison, who knew how to wield those track changes of magic, when to talk me down from the ledge, let me make those last-LAST minute edits, and always remembers how much she loves me when I bring up the dreaded, “So, about that deadline …” topic of conversation.
To the Egmont team—Margaret and Michelle and Regina and anyone else I may have forgotten (I’m sorry! I love you! Still friends?)—thank you for your tremendous support and enthusiasm and contagious good cheer. Working on this project with you has been one of the best things ever.
Thank you, dear readers, for seeing me through another one. (Yes, there IS a sequel. Don’t worry! I won’t leave you hanging.) You have a million choices out there, and any time you choose to read my words, it leaves me thrilled and honored and so very happy. Thank you.
Friends and family, your continued support and love means the world to me. There is no thank-you I can say that is big enough to cover it all.
Lorrie and Lauren—thank you for always knowing what to say and how to say it. May your kindness and generosity be returned x3. Love you guys!
And finally, all my love and thanks to Lee—my rock, my rope-climbing partner, my everything. Amor Vincit Omnia
&nb
sp; Works Referenced
“Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe. First published in the New-York Daily Tribune, October 9, 1849.
“The Mask of the Red Death” by Edgar Allan Poe. First published in Graham’s Magazine, May 1842.
“The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe. First published in the Evening Mirror, January 29, 1845.
“The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe. First published in the Pioneer, January 1843.
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. London: Longmans, Green, & Co., 1886.
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