heartbeat, but he didn't waste his energy answering.
“Remember what you told me about becoming a whore? That life is the raging river we get tossed into? Well, life tossed you into the rapids. It wasn't your fault—I don't believe that for one second. It was just what happened—to you and to her. It couldn't be helped.”
His eyes burned with sudden tears and Cora had the wisdom to quietly slip out of the room, leaving him to them.
* * *
“Who appointed her Daddy's personal nurse?”
Cora heard the scathing tone in Marie's voice. Marie had never been kind—resentment had seethed from her since the night Cora first arrived.
“Would you rather she be down here taking all the tricks from us?” Gigi answered in a bored voice.
Olive took notice of Cora's approach and cleared her throat, calling loudly, “How is he?”
She shook her head. “The fever is better since Dr. Yee was here but he's in a horrible mood and the wound still looks infected.”
“I cannot believe you are allowing that Chinaman to put those needles in him. You are probably killing him!”
Cora flushed with anger. “That's not true—he has only improved. And I've done everything Doc Smith ordered as well.” She was going to add that if Marie thought she was a better nurse, she could have a turn, but she held her tongue. She actually didn't want anyone taking her place. In fact, she would put up a fight with anyone who tried to make her leave his side.
“Well,” Olive sighed. “The best thing we can do is keep this place running smoothly for him.”
“How is it going?” Cora asked, looking around. Things seemed relatively normal.
“We're managing. The piano brought in a lot of customers, and we can't very well do our can-can without music.”
Cora chewed her lip and eyed the piano. Could she pluck out the can-can music? Just the basic tune? It was a pretty simple song, with a lot of repetition, really. If this was a way she could pull her weight at Daddy Diggs’, she was up for giving it a shot.
“Is there sheet music for it?”
“Oh, golly. I don't know. He's been playing it without music for as long as I've been here. Why?” she asked, giving her a keen look. “Can you play it?”
She shrugged. “I don't know. I can try.” She sat at the piano and plunked on the notes, trying to find the right ones. She kept at it the rest of the afternoon in between her frequent checks on Daddy Diggs until she had the basic melody. That night, she sat at the piano, warming the audience up singing and playing her rendition of “Oh my darling, Clementine”, the ridiculous song that had somehow sprung up and caught on about a gold rush miner and his daughter. She received a very unenthusiastic response to that attempt, so she took a deep breath and called out, just like Diggory would, “And now, I present to you, Daddy Diggs’ Darlings!” She sat down at the piano and played the melody as loud as she could, to make up for its simplicity. It was enough; the girls' entrance received the usual hoots and hollers, and the focus was on them. She was so engrossed in her playing that she did not notice anyone was near her until suddenly, the low notes were being played. She whipped her head around in surprise, her fingers faltering over the keys for a moment.
“Go on,” Diggory said gruffly. He looked pale and wan, but had somehow put on a boiled shirt and waistcoat. Even as haggard as he looked, he was the most dapper man in the place.
She flashed him a brilliant smile, thrilled to see him up and out of bed and sitting beside her. He winked, continuing his intricate finger work as if it were the easiest thing on earth.
“Go on, lass, I can't play that part.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, smiling to herself as she struck up the tune again.
On stage, the girls whirled and kicked, putting on the performance that made Daddy Diggs’ brothel famous. Diggory talked her through the ending, telling her to repeat the chorus, to
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