A shuffle of boots outside breaks the silence. The door swings open to admit several men with lanterns. Constable Herrick stands with gaol keeper John Arnold, flanked by two Salem constables on either side.
“Be sure ye get who we came for,” Herrick mutters.
“Susanna Martin, Rebecca Nurse, Sarah Wildes, Elizabeth How, and Sarah Good, stand up,” Herrick orders in a loud voice. “We’re taking ye to Salem for yer trials today.”
We moan. Bound by shackles, forced to lean against the damp stone walls—and only days ago, we were all free, living lives normally.
We mourn the life we once had and resent the hopelessness of our life now.
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