“Mistress Gotely!” she shouted, her voice echoing blasphemously throughout the chapel. “Beth! Alys! Help me!” They would not come to her aid, she knew that. She was alone. But the other servants might hear her, and it would mean something to be remembered. She wanted them to know that she had not gone willingly or quietly. If they remembered that, she would still be something, if only a scar on their memories, a pang of guilt they tried to ignore.”
