Just after midnight, on a cold and windy April night, William Bukater left his usual haunt to return home. The large city seemed silent. Litter lined the streets he walked and the biting wind sent it flying around the sky, twirling in the air. He wrapped his arms firmly around his body in an attempt to shield away the chill. His night had been spent drinking whiskey and playing poker, something which he indulged in. In fact, it was something which he had lost his family over. He was a married man, although separated. His wife, an important figure in society, with a high standing socially, had ordered him away from his family in Philadelphia the year before. The reason his wife had given was to save her and their daughter’s social status. He had married for love, although he knew she had never returned it. He also had a daughter, Rose. As a child, she had been the apple of his eye. He had doted on her. The last he had heard of his daughter had been in the newspaper in early January–his daughter had become engaged to Pittsburgh steel tycoon Caledon Hockley and they were to marry in June.
Like a hurricane, the wind howled, almost blowing the flat brown cap from William's head. The coat he wore was thick and lined, but still he felt the chill. His deep set brown eyes watered from the cold. His sight seemed slightly hazy, perhaps from the drink. The walk home seemed longer than usual. The buildings around him seemed larger. The whole city seemed dead. No sound except the howling of the wind could be heard. All was deathly still. He felt a sense of sadness as he glanced around. There were no lights on this street. Not even the gas lamps had been lit. Turning the corner onto an almost black street, William picked up his pace. His eyes stung from the wind and his vision blurred. Several paces later, a lumpish black figure came into view. Squinting, William unfolded his arms and began staggering towards it. A few paces later, he realized what was lying on the cold ground–a person. His picked up his pace into a run. The wind seemed to want to hold him back, but he fought against it and reached the body lying on the pavement. It was most definitely a woman, with fiery red hair. He wondered if she was alive. Brushing some hair from her face, with trembling hands he touched the woman's neck gently with his index and middle finger in an attempt to find a pulse. He knew she was young, no more than twenty. After shifting his fingers around on her neck, he finally found a pulse, a strong one. His heart beat faster as he realized he had to get the woman to safety. With his right hand, he brushed all the hair away from her face, allowing him to see her fully. Within seconds, his stomach fell and his mouth fell open inarticulately as he realized who this woman was–Rose, his daughter.
“Oh, my Lord, Rose.”
Her face was cold and deathly white, her eyes closed, and her lips almost blue. One side of her face was imprinted, due to having been on the ground for God knew what length of time. William felt like sobbing, like pulling his daughter close to him to give her all of his body heat. His arms felt weak as he lifted her up into his arms. He struggled for a moment with her unconscious body. Her head jolted backwards and he arranged his arm under her head to support it. He struggled home in disbelief at what he had discovered. Once he arrived at the small, four-room house that he called home, he lowered his daughter onto the couch. She did not stir, still unconscious. Hurriedly, he grabbed several blankets and wrapped them around her. He rubbed his forehead as he felt a headache creeping over it. With the strike of a match, he lit a fire in the stove in an attempt the warm the icy room. He brought his own shaking hands to his mouth and blew on them to keep them warm. Kneeling beside Rose, he hesitantly and shakily took her hand in his. She had a woman's hands now. She was a woman. Her beautiful face was illuminated by the flames from the stove. What on earth had happened to his Rose? Why was she alone in the city at midnight? Where were her mother and fiancé? He lowered his head to kiss her hand and then covered his own face with his hands and sobbed. His heart sank lower than before. He prayed to God for her to wake so he could talk to his daughter again.