The frigid morning air hit Lils’ face like a slap as she slipped out with Levi to follow Goody Martin on the way to her stall. They were careful to stay several paces behind the old woman as she made her way toward the village center. Frost clung to the bare branches overhead, and their breath came out in white puffs.
Goody Martin walked with purpose, basket full of radishes and herb bundles swinging at her side, completely unaware of her two shadows.
“Why are we following her again?” Levi whispered, though Goody was far enough ahead she wouldn’t have heard him anyway.
“Because I need to see how people act at the market,” Lils said. “What’s normal behavior, and what’s suspicious. Plus, you said you’d show me who’s who.”
Levi grinned, pleased to be useful. “I shall show you, indeed!”
Lils clasped the boy’s hands. “Excellent! But we need to stay as hidden as possible, I don’t want anyone in Salem to take much notice of us.”
They entered the village proper as the sun climbed higher, though it gave off more light than warmth, the air cold. The market square was already bustling with activity—farmers setting up stalls, housewives haggling over root vegetables, children darting between carts. The smell of woodsmoke and livestock hung heavy in the cold air.
Lils pulled her cloak tighter, the rough wool scratching against her neck. She still wasn’t used to the weight of these clothes, the scratchy layers of fabric that never quite kept the chill all the way out.
“There,” Levi shot a look at a stern-faced man arranging bundles of dried herbs. “Be aware of that vendor, he’s a lookout, reports back to constables.”
“And that woman there—” Levi nodded toward a woman in a threadbare cloak approaching a stall nearby, “—tis poor Sarah Good, oft found begging.”
They moved through the market, keeping Goody Martin’s gray head of hair bobbing in sight. Levi kept up a running commentary, his voice low.
“See that man with the broad shoulders and scowl? That’s Constable Herrick, arrests people when the magistrates say so.”
Lils glanced at the Constable. Middle-aged and tired-looking, he moved through his market patrol duties with the air of a man doing a job he didn’t particularly enjoy, but was resigned to anyway. Ahead of them, Goody Martin stopped at her market stall to set up for the day, some turnips and dried herbs and flowers. Barely any fare for winter, although her stall was usually overflowing in the summer months.
Lils and Levi hung back near a cart selling firewood so they wouldn’t be spotted.
“And that girl there,” Levi whispered, “the one in the blue cloak? That’s Mercy Lewis. She’s one of the afflicted.” He said "afflicted" like it was a curse.
Lils’ attention snapped to the girl. She looked to be slightly older than Lils, pretty in a severe sort of way, and she was chatting with another girl as they looked over a bolt of cloth. She looked perfectly normal, so far as Lils could tell.
“She lives with the Putnams now,” Levi continued. “Claims her old Master’s ghost comes to torment her.”
The market was becoming more crowded, bodies pressing closer together as more villagers flooded in. Lils was watching Mercy Lewis so intently that she didn’t notice the tall figure pushing through the crowd until Levi grabbed her arm. She had been playing with her pentacle necklace absentmindedly.
“Eliza Proctor!”
The shout cut through the market noise.
Lils turned, her stomach dropping. Samuel Proctor stood twenty feet away, his face flushed with anger.
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“Eliza!” he called again, louder this time. People were turning to look. “I know it ’tis you, sister!”
Lils’ heart pounded. What the hell? She took a step back trying to escape, bumping into someone behind her.
“How dare you call thyself a cousin,” Samuel pushed forward through the crowd, anger coursing through him. “I have no cousin! You are mine own sister, and you will answer for your deception.”
The market fell silent, and everyone around was staring at them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lils said, but her voice came out frightened and defensive.
“I saw you grab our dead Mother's locket all through this market just now, the one you stole from the house," Samuel shouted, gesturing to two men nearby. “No matter her claims, this is Eliza Proctor," he pointed, "And she has bewitched Salem with lies! Seize her!”
The two men hesitated, looking between Samuel and Lils uncertainly.
That moment of hesitation was all she needed.
She bolted through the market, hoisting her heavy skirts up so she could run properly. Behind her, Samuel shouted, and she heard the unmistakable sound of boots on frozen ground, his voice calling out for the constable.
Lils dodged around a cart, nearly knocking over a basket of eggs, her breath coming in heaves. Shit, shit, shit. Her bodice dug into her ribs, restricting her breathing. How did anyone run in these damn clothes?
“Stop Eliza!” Samuel’s voice rang out closer than she’d thought.
Lils risked a glance back. Samuel was gaining on her, and now Constable Herrick was running too, along with two other men she didn’t recognize.
She rounded a corner near the candle-maker’s stall—
—and suddenly Samuel went down hard, sprawling face-first into the icy ground.
Lils caught a glimpse of Levi scrambling backward, his foot still extended from where he’d tripped Samuel.
“Run Lils!” Levi shouted back at her.
She ran harder, her calves burning. Behind her, she heard a loud crash and the sound of rolling vegetables.
“My turnips, oh, my turnips!” an old woman's voice rang out in distress. Lils didn’t stop to look, but she could imagine the chaos—a market stall completely overturned, turnips rolling around, men slipping and stumbling on the dirt and ice.
The edge of the village was close now. She was nearly to the woods. If she could only make it to the tree line—
“Stop that girl!” she heard Constable Herrick’s voice cry out, authoritative but winded from effort.
Lils practically dove into the woods, branches whipping at her face and catching at her cloak. Adrenaline blocked out thought of nearly everything else as she ran, blood hammering in her ears.
The sounds of men grew fainter behind her, muffled by the trees. She kept running until her chest felt like it would burst and her legs felt like jello, until the sounds of the village had faded completely, until there was nothing but her ragged breathing and the sound of the wind whipping through bare branches.
Finally, she stopped, doubling over with her hands on her knees, gasping for air. Her face was scratched up, her cloak torn, her pinned hair had come loose.
But she had escaped.
Lils sat and listened, but heard nothing except the usual sounds of the forest—the creaking of trees as they swayed, birds chirping, a few leaves rustling. It was only then that she sank down, hugging her knees to her chest in sheer relief and cried, happy to still be alive and not in custody.
Samuel had called her out in front of everyone in the market, accusing her of pretending to be Eliza. If only he knew the truth, that his sister Eliza was in 2025...wait, 2026 now.
She wasn’t Eliza Proctor, but now the whole town certainly thought she was. Even if they didn’t catch her today, the damage was done–word would soon spread like wildfire. Lils leaned fully against a tree trunk, her heart still racing.
The trial was coming, she’d known that… but she’d hoped for more time to figure out how to get back home first. More time to size up the people of Salem and see who she’d potentially have to take on. Lils touched the hidden pentacle necklace, Stevon’s necklace, that Samuel had mistakenly thought was his dead mother's.
Thanks Samuel.
She couldn't exactly show anyone the necklace to exonerate herself, either.
Lils shifted her thoughts to Eliza. Going to school at Salem High, eating Aunt Ivy’s banana bread and riding in the Jetta, bonding with Luce. Living her life.
At least one of them had escaped.
Lils closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing so she didn't have a panic attack, practiced breathing through her nose like her therapist had taught her. She needed a plan.
She couldn’t go back to Goody Martin’s house, Samuel would look for her there first. But she also couldn’t stay in the woods forever, her survival skills sucked. The sound of a snapping twig interrupted her thoughts and she scrambled to her feet, suddenly on full alert. Lils grabbed a nearby branch and brandished it like a sword.
“Who’s there?” she shouted out.
Levi emerged from behind a large oak, slightly out of breath, grinning despite the circumstances.
“Lils it’s just me!” he said, holding his hands up innocently.
“You followed me?” Lils lowered the branch. "I can't believe you followed me, Goody Martin will have my head."
Levi pulled something from his pocket—a slightly squashed apple, stolen from one of the market stalls.
“Here,” he said, offering it to her. “You need to eat.”
Lils took the apple, her throat tight with unexpected gratitude.
“Hey, thanks for this. And thanks especially for tripping Samuel.”
Levi shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “That devil deserved it. Besides, we have to stick together.”
She bit into the apple, the tart sweetness sharp on her tongue, and tried to think of a plan, offering the second bite to Levi.