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Part of the Civil War Draft Riots in NYC
Watching through horrified eyes from an upstairs window, Connor saw his newly-acquired wife dodge falling debris coming from the ransacked Orphanage. She streaked across the back yard to the little girl, lying on the ground underneath a heavy piece of furniture. Sinead tried desperately to lift the dresser from the child’s prone body.
Her father jumped from his carriage and ran to help her, his short legs pumping away. When they managed to slip the girl from under the dresser, Connor saw Bowes shake his head. Sinead’s face was bathed in sorrow. She lifted the child in her arms, cradled her and turned away from the scene.
Whether for the child or the woman who held her so gently, tears blurred Connor’s vision. He turned away and rested his head against the wall to get his emotions under control. He wondered what he had gotten himself into by marrying this woman.
A frantic roar from the floor above gave warning of something extraordinary happening. Thunderous footfalls streamed across the upper floor and charged down the front staircase. The noise of those stamping feet brought Connor to his senses.
An outrageous, primitive scream of rampant rage sounded. A howl of victory came from the crowd outside the front of the building. Connor felt the blood rush and roar in his head, felt the chug of his heart beating to a rhythm far more rapid than usual. Smoke pumped and poured up the stairwell from the floors below. Realization stamped a burning brand across the far reaches of his thoughts.
The bloody bastards have set the building ablaze!
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