She wondered if she’d simply dreamt it all, for a sweet, brief moment that morning when she woke at dawn. Perhaps none of it had really happened: last night in the prison chapel, the few days in a cell with other women, and even the week before that, the week of rebellion. Was any of it real?
In her hand she was clutching a handkerchief. She brought it to her face, wondering if it held any scent of either of them. But there was nothing. The initials, GG and JP, were embroidered in a corner, entwined in a loving knot. It had been dropped and forgotten, last night in the chapel, and she’d picked it up. Holding it now gave Gráinne a little comfort – it was a tiny reminder that things had once been normal, handkerchiefs had been embroidered and given as gifts, and maybe those days might come again, in time.
She thought about her friend Grace who’d embroidered the handkerchief, and Joseph to whom it had been given, and wondered what they were doing now, what they were thinking, how they were dealing with the horrors of this day that had barely even begun.
And as she had that thought, shots rang out in the prison yard, as Gráinne had known they would. A volley of shots, fired all at once, on a command given by some unknown officer. A volley of shots that ended the life of someone Gráinne had fought alongside. She crossed herself and muttered a prayer for the soul of whoever it was, bringing the handkerchief close to her face once more.
Was it all worth it? Had any of it been worth it? They had not succeeded, not the way she’d hoped they would. It had all ended in less than a week, with loss of life, and now … these terrible dawn executions. The rebellion had ripped the city apart, it had torn families and loved ones apart. Grace and Joseph, herself and Emmett. They’d fought for what they believed in, fought for the greater good, but for themselves as individuals it had been little more than a tragic disaster.
She’d never forget a minute of it, she knew. She was so young still, but for as long as she lived, she knew this last week or two would shape her life for ever.