Gunpowder and Tea Cakes: My Journey with Felicity

I want to stay here in 1775, but I don’t know what to do. It was my idea to come to the Magazine in the first place. I look around, and then I see the flower seller. She is huddled in the corner with her hands over face. Her shoulders shake as if she’s crying. Her pansies and violets are spilled on the ground and crushed.

A teenage boy runs past us, then stops. He looks at Ben and Ezra, and asks if Ezra needs help. If this guy helps, then Ben won’t need me and Felicity anymore. Ben glances from her to me, a question in his eyes.