The Mother
As at the inquest, Mr. Pike asked my name, where I was born, and so on. “Mrs. Spadros, would you tell us how you came to be in the Spadros Family?”
“I was brought to Spadros Manor as a young girl of twelve.”
But then he began to ask things not asked before:
“And how did this happen? You lived in the Pot, madam. Surely you weren’t suddenly transported there.”
I didn’t particularly wish to speak of this. Why was he asking? How much should I tell? I didn’t look at him. “Sir, I — I was sold. By my father. To the Family.”
Gasps and murmurs. Mr. Hart flinched, setting his jaw.
“At age twelve.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did he receive in return?”
“Sponsorship into Spadros quadrant. He owns a liquor store on Third Street.”
Jack Diamond’s eyes narrowed, his jaw set.
“I see. So was th
