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Chapter 4: Anxiety

Meg nodded and took a deep breath. Worry that something might happen to Charlie was a constant state of mind for her now, with these spikes in panic each time something else presented itself as evidence that he might not be all right, and her heart would be happy when there was no more reason to suspect the worst. “Was he awake when you left?”

“He was,” Jonathan confirmed, stepping up to lean against the wet railing beside her. There was no sense in attempting to stay dry at this point, and Meg had given up hours ago, though she did have a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “He asked about you. He wanted to know if you were planning to go to the hospital with him, and I said I’d ask.”

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “He didn’t even know who I was when he awoke this morning. I had to remind him. Again.”

“I know,” Jonathan said, adjusting his hat. “I believe his memory loss is due to the medication, Meg. They’ve been sedating him heavily. I think, once he sees his family again, once he’s home, his own doctor won’t press such high doses of medication on him, then his memory will start to come around again.”

Wanting to believe his words and knowing they were true were different matters, and Meg began to slowly shake her head. “All we can do is try, I suppose,” she said, her voice just a hoarse whisper.

“Will you go with him then? I’m not certain where we might find his parents, and I thought it might be best if I attempt to track them down while you accompany him to the hospital. There’s bound to be hundreds, if not thousands, of people waiting when we get off at the pier. Reporters, photographers, family members who’ve yet to hear anything, people who simply want to gawk at us, as if our pain is nothing but a sideshow at a circus.”

Meg stared at him in wonder; none of those things had occurred to her, except for the bereaved families, of course. “Do you think so?” she asked, pursing her lips together.

Jonathan nodded. “I heard Ismay sent a message to the White Star Line to let them know what transpired. That alone would be enough to alert the newspapers. Who knows what others are sending over the wire. There will be plenty of people awaiting our arrival.”

They were nearly at the docks now. Meg could see the Statue of Liberty, but she didn’t stare at it. So many times she had imagined what it would be like to approach New York Harbor by boat, having gained her freedom from her abusive mother and uncle. She had envisioned that lady with the torch symbolizing a new life for her, but now, with Charlie injured possibly beyond repair, and so many widowed women, fatherless children, and lost souls standing around her, looking up at the statue and dreaming of renewal seemed scurrilous. Averting her eyes and choosing not to acknowledge it at all seemed like a more respectable thing to do.

“He wants you with him, Meg,” Jonathan repeated, drawing her attention back to his face. “You’ll go, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Meg replied. She didn’t want to. She wanted to blend in with the throng of people exiting the boat, to put her head down and melt into them, disappearing into the New York night. Where she might go after that, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps a boarding house or a shelter of some sort. Would White Star even provide these people who had nowhere to go a place to sleep tonight? It was nearly 10:00 PM. What about the children who had no parents? She realized Jonathan was speaking and tried to concentrate on the reality of what was about to happen to her, not the Meg in her mind who was bold and carefree—perhaps careless—who would be willing to step off of a ship and into a world she’d only dreamt of as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“They said you could wait outside of his door, and they’d let you walk out with them. It might be a while. They’re going to let all of the Carpathia passengers off first.”

Meg only nodded, her mind still darting between scenarios.

“I believe we’ve passed the pier we should’ve docked at, though,” Jonathan muttered, reaching up on his tiptoes to look out over the water, as if that might somehow help. “I’m going to go and see what might be happening. I’ll come find you when I know more.”

“All right,” she managed.

“Do you know where Kelly and Daniel are?” he asked.

“No. Daniel said you gave him an address?”

“I did. It’s a boarding house where many of our workers live until they can find more suitable accommodations. I told him to go there and let them know I sent them. They’ll be safe for the night, and then once I speak to Mr. Ashton, we can decide where to place them permanently.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant—permanently—but she nodded in agreement. At least Kelly and the girls would be safe. Daniel’s arm would be in a cast for another couple of months, but Charlie had assured the Irishman he would find him work at the factory. At least Jonathan would be able to guarantee that promise even if Charlie was in the hospital for weeks… or longer.

“Meg,” Jonathan said, taking her gently by the arms and peering into her eyes. “Everything will be all right. I promise you.”

She nodded again, thinking she was acting like she was the one who’d been given some sort of magic elixir.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” He smiled at her reassuringly and then let her go, blending into the crowd and disappearing.

Meg took another deep breath then turned in the direction that would take her to Charlie’s makeshift hospital room. She had no idea where she’d lay her head that night, but she was hopeful that, wherever it was, when she awoke, she’d see things much more clearly.

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