It was another agonizing night, and her bruised body was still hurting from the abuse she suffered at the hands of her husband hours ago. She couldn't tell how long she had been lying on the bed, but it must've been at least five hours now. James Reynolds left their home while the sun was still high in the sky, and now Maria could see the glow of the full moon through their bedroom window.

Forcing herself to sit up, she winced as her sore muscles screamed at the sudden movement. She rubbed her waist tenderly, inspecting the new hand-shaped bruises forming. She frowned once more, feeling her eyes water as she saw new bruises forming on her already battered body. She supposed it didn't matter anyway. James left her a whole lot of bruises that weren't just painful, but also long-lasting and would probably never fade. That wasn't the full extent of her husband's cruelty, though. Maria thought that if she were the only one suffering in this wretched marriage, it would have been more bearable and acceptable. But James had threatened to take her little Susan away from her, and Maria knew that she'd do anything to make sure that her daughter would never be subjected to her father's cruelty.

Remembering James' threats, she quickly threw on a night gown and rushed to the room next door. Looking into the crib, she found her little baby asleep and completely unharmed. With a sigh, Maria picked up Susan and cradled the baby girl in her arms. She rocked the little girl back and forth, her eyes drifting to the open window.

She didn't remember much about her previous argument with James. She did remember a lot of sobbing and begging on her part, and a lot of screaming and beating on her husband's part. Maria sighed, knowing that whatever caused the argument was probably the same cause for their previous fights. She decided that it didn't matter, because no matter what had started the fight, in the end, she would be left battered and abused. Looking down at the peaceful face of her daughter, Maria smiled, and then placed the baby back in the crib.

She had to do something. She couldn't let her child grow up like this, and she couldn't let James continue to abuse her. Making up her mind, she quickly got dressed in one of her better clothes, then she wrapped little Susan in a warm blanket. She stepped out into the chilly night, forcing her chin up. She had to do this. For herself and for her daughter.

Maria walked around the streets, cradling her daughter, as she asked random people for help. She approached strangers, begging them to help her. She begged them for money so she could travel back to her family. ("Please, sir. I'll pay you, I promise. I just need to get away from my cruel husband. I need to do this for my daughter. Please.") No one wanted to help her, though. They all just looked down at her with their noses high, and they continued walking, their fine clothes rustling as they did so.

She felt humiliated and degraded. Her thin red dress barely kept her warm from the chilly night. She looked down at her small daughter, who was still sleeping in her warm blankets. Maria smiled. As long as her daughter was warm, she knew she could stand the cold.

She continued walking and asking people for help. Finally, a gentleman said something that could help her:

"I'm sorry, dear. But I do not have the means to help you. But perhaps Secretary Hamilton could give you a loan. Maybe he could help you."

And so she went to the address given to her by the elderly man. She stepped in front of the wooden doors, then bracing herself, she rapped her knuckles on the wood. She waited.

When the door opened, a nice-looking man appeared, his hair falling to his shoulders in a tangled mess. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and his glasses were perched on top of his angular nose.

"Yes?" he asked.

Maria cleared her throat, then said, "You are Secretary Hamilton, are you not?"

The man nodded his head and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes, I am. How can I help you at this late hour?"

"I know you are a man of honour. I'm so sorry to bother you at home, but I don't know where to go, and I came here all alone," she said.

Just then, little Susan gave a small wail, and Maria smiled sheepishly at Secretary Hamilton as she tried to console the weeping baby. "Well, maybe not all alone. This is my daughter."

Hamilton peered at the covered bundle in her arms and gave her a small smile.

"Sir, my husband's doing me wrong. He's been beating me, cheating me, and mistreating me. Suddenly, he's up and gone. I don't have the means to go on."

Maria bit her lip as the man studied her. Finally, after a few moments which felt like an eternity, he sighed, "Very well. Perhaps I could offer you a loan?"

She nodded her head vigorously, her tangled curls bobbing up and down. "Yes. Yes, sir. Thank you so much. Thank you."

Hamilton just gave her a small smile, then he said, "Wait here."

He turned and disappeared into the house. When he came back, he pushed some money into her palm and said, "Here. This is all I have socked away for now. Maybe it will be enough to get you and your daughter away from your cruel husband?"

Maria counted the money in her hands. It took her a few minutes to do so, seeing as she was uneducated, but in the end, she found that he had given her thirty bucks. She snapped her head to look at the man, and said, "This is a lot. You're too kind, sir."

The man just gave a small chuckle as he scratched the back of his head. "Heh. Well…uhm, it's late. Shall I walk you back home?"

She smiled and nodded. As they walked, she kept glancing at her little Susan, and then at the finely dressed gentleman next to her. She felt small and dirty in comparison. Mr. Hamilton walked with a grace that was indescribable, and she knew that she probably looked like a beggar walking next to him. Her skin was covered in bruises, and her body was thin from hunger. James didn't really give her much food. She was forced to eat the leftovers of her husband's meals.

Maria felt her eyes water, so she ducked her head to look at her daughter. Her hair was shielding her face from Mr. Hamilton's view.

Little Susan was looking at her with wide eyes filled with innocence.

"Shh, little girl. It's okay. It's going to be okay," Maria whispered to daughter. A tear dropped onto the baby's right cheek, and the little girl giggled at the wetness that came from her mother's face. Maria laughed softly, and then she pressed a small kiss onto the baby's forehead.

Finally, they reached her house. She turned to look at Mr. Hamilton and said, "This one's mine, sir. Would you like to come in for some tea, perhaps? I can fix something quick for you, as gratitude for helping me."

"Yes, that would be nice," the man said.

So, she placed little Susan in a bassinet in the kitchen, then she filled a pot with water to boil. When she served him his tea, Maria watched the way Secretary Hamilton lifted the cup to his lips, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

He was an angel, Maria thought. He was so clean, so kind, so gentle, even to someone so dirty and so tainted like her. She glanced at little Susan who was now safely asleep.

"Thank you, Miss Reynolds," Mr. Hamilton said, standing up and placing the cup on the table. He turned to leave, but Maria caught his wrist in her hand.

"Wait!" she cried, pulling the man towards her.

Her tears were now rolling down her cheeks, and she forced her lips onto his. She felt him stiffen against her, but she continued to kiss him.

They somehow made it to her bedroom without their lips parting, and when they tumbled into bed together, Maria heard her husband's words that previous morning in her head.

"Good for nothing whore! I can't believe I ever agreed to marry you in the first place! You could go and live on the streets, stretching your legs open for whoever's willing to pay, and I won't give a damn! You stupid, uneducated slut!"

Maria clenched her eyelids shut as she felt Hamilton's lips on her neck. She clung to him tighter, her arms around his neck. Her tears were still spilling freely. His kisses were hot and fervid, but at the same time, they were gentle and not painful. He was so different from James.

Later in the night, the two of them lay in bed naked, the blankets covering their sweat-beaded bodies. Maria gazed longingly at the sleeping man beside her.

"You make me feel loved," she whispered, running a finger across Hamilton's cheek.

"I love you...Betsey," Hamilton mumbled through his slumber.

Maria just lay on her back staring at the ceiling. A tear rolled down her cheek once more.