DECEMBER 1933

"Miss Hannigan?"

"Yeah. Who's asking?"

"I'm Grace Farrell. The New York Board of Orphans—"

Miss Hannigan threw her head back in frustration. "What did the brats do now? I swear, I've been keeping an eye on them after—"

Grace cut her off. "I'm here on behalf of Oliver Warbucks."

Her jaw dropped. "The Oliver Warbucks?"

"The Oliver Warbucks."

"Come in, come in," Miss Hannigan said, stepping aside so Grace could pass, her tone suddenly cheery. "We don't usually see the donors in person. Is he planning a visit?"

"No, he's invited an orphan for the Christmas holiday. I'm here to select one."

"Oh. How... lucky."

Noticing the unusual quietness for a place housing children, Grace said, "Have I come at a bad time?"

"No, no," Miss Hannigan replied using her phony tone again, "It's just... wouldn't he rather have a lady? I've got two weeks coming." She winked.

Grace stared at her, unamused.

Miss Hannigan rolled her eyes. "It was a joke. What kind of orphan did you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure..." Was there more than one kind of orphan? "Could I possibly have a tour?"

A worried look entered her eyes. "A tour?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No... no a tour. That's fine. Right this way."

. . .

Annie volunteered to investigate their mysterious visitor. No one ever came to the orphanage anymore besides Mr. Bundles and the food delivery men. Why would someone associated with the richest man in the world come to visit? For once, her mind didn't go straight to the possibility that this might be her mother.

She couldn't hear much at the door. Opening it to peek in was easier said than done lest she want to bring attention to herself with a loud creek. A couple of minutes later she was glad for this decision, hearing footsteps approaching her. She hurried into the corner, scrunching herself up as much as possible and hiding her face, hoping the shadows were enough cover. When Miss Hannigan and the other woman began up the stairs, she stood and trailed behind.

Why were they going upstairs, she wondered. Was Oliver Warbucks looking to adopt a kid? From what she'd heard on the radio and seen in scraps of newspaper, he didn't seem like the type. It had to be something to do with donations, not that she and the others would ever benefit. It would still be mush and dressmaking day after day.

Confusing her more than the reason for this visitor was the fact that Miss Hannigan was actually allowing someone through the orphanage spur of the moment. Normally visits required a deep clean and hiding the sewing machines away. Even at a distance, she could sense Miss Hannigan's uneasiness. That wouldn't be good news for one or all of them later on.

"We mostly house older girls," Miss Hannigan said when they entered the first dormitory. "If you're lookin' for a baby or something you won't find one here. The youngest we have is six."

"I was thinking of an older girl anyways. Maybe around nine or ten?"

Annie's eyes widened. Oliver Warbucks — this lady — was looking for a kid.

The girls in the room looked up from their various activities at the two adults and then at Annie who held her finger to her lips. They seemed confused, then disappointed when none of them had gained the attention of the woman who appeared to be here for one of them.

Annie followed them across the hall to the next dorm, then the next.

That's when her luck ran out. When Miss Hannigan and the woman came out to the hall and shut the door, Annie had misjudged the sound of their footsteps. Not only did she not have enough time to hide but the woman had also nearly tripped over her as she was crouched on the ground.

"My goodness, I'm sorry, dear. I didn't see you there."

"You," Miss Hannigan said through clenched teeth. Grabbing the back of Annie's collar, she hoisted her to her feet. "What are you up to now?"

"Nothing, Miss Hannigan…"

"You need to learn to mind your own business."

"I'm sure she didn't mean any harm," the woman said. "The limo outside must have caused a stir."

"Limo?" Miss Hannigan mouthed.

"I'm sorry, lady," Annie said. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. We… I was just…"

"You don't need to apologize, sweetheart," the woman said with a smile. "What's your name?"

"Annie…"

"What a pretty name."

Miss Hannigan rolled her eyes, then released Annie with a shove. "Annie will be going downstairs now. My office."

Annie swallowed hard.

Stepping in front of Annie, the woman said, "I don't think we need to continue the tour. I think this child will do just fine."

"You can't be serious," Miss Hannigan deflated.

"I'm quite serious."

"Don't you want to see all of the children? We have several around Annie's age and much better behaved."

As much as Annie liked seeing Miss Hannigan squirm, she was worried herself. There was no way she could leave Molly and Hannah. "It's only fair if you meet everyone."

Miss Hannigan grew suspicious but held her tongue.

The woman crouched down to meet Annie's height. "Don't be silly. If you were curious enough to follow us I think it's only fair you get a ride in the limo." She winked.

"That sounds really swell. Honest. But you don't understand—"

The woman stood straight again and reached into her briefcase. "If you'll please sign these, Miss Hannigan…"

"Really, lady, I can't—"

"And if I don't?" Miss Hannigan replied.

"Then I will get in touch with the Board of Orphans and tell them about the girls in that sewing room you so eagerly skipped over."

Miss Hannigan went pale, then grabbed the papers. "I'll sign them."

"Wait!" Annie nearly cried.

The woman touched her shoulder. "Not to worry, dear." Her voice was gentler than any other adult she'd heard speak before. "You're going to have a wonderful two weeks."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "Two weeks?"

Miss Hannigan shoved the papers back into the woman's hands.

"You're not adopting me?"

The woman's face fell. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid not."

Annie felt a slight bit of relief but still resisted when the woman took her hand and started leading her away. "I can't leave yet! I need—"

"You won't need a thing. Mr. Warbucks will see to your every wish."

"That's not—"

The more Annie resisted, the more Miss Hannigan came to realize the reason Annie didn't want to leave. Since she wasn't going to get her way and keep her here away, Miss Hannigan decided sending her along would be punishment enough.

"Don't be so ungrateful, Annie," Miss Hannigan said in the most saccharine tone she could conjure up. "You'll be rid of this place for two whole weeks. Isn't that wonderful?"

Annie glared at Miss Hannigan as she and the woman reached the door. Her fate was sealed by those papers in the woman's briefcase. Resigning herself, she stopped fighting and let herself be led to the limo. She only hoped Hannah and Molly were watching from the window so she could at least wave goodbye.

. . .

"I've just realized I never told you my name," the woman said as they were driven across Manhattan. "I'm Grace Farrell. I work for Oliver Warbucks."

Keeping her body turned toward the window, Annie nodded.

"Oh, dear… You must be freezing. We didn't grab your coat."

"Don't got one," she mumbled.

"You mean you go out like that?"

"Don't go out. Not much."

"That's terrible…"

Annie shrugged.

"We'll stop at Bergdorf's and buy you one."

"It's all right. I won't need it when I get back to the orphanage."

"I don't know, it felt pretty chilly in there to me."

"You get used to it. Besides, I'm not going to be the only kid wearing a coat while the others are shivering."

"Then I guess we'll have to buy them all coats, too."

Annie glanced back at Grace and considered her briefly before turning away again.

Grace sighed as she sat back. This wasn't going at all as she'd imagined. Aside from their stop at the store, she gave up any attempt at conversation. This girl couldn't be more than ten or eleven. Maybe twelve. She felt foolish for not being able to maintain a conversation.

When had she lost touch with the world outside of the mansion?

APRIL 1919

"What's all this?" Grace gasped as she entered her room one afternoon.

Mrs. Greer smiled. "Mr. Warbucks had these ordered for you. A couple of the girls are still working on a few of your dresses, but these should do for now."

"Why on earth would he do such a thing?"

Mrs. Greer laughed. "You're still asking that question?"

Grace blushed. For whatever reason the staff seemed amused by the new arrangements. For the most part, they treated her like a child. "He's too extravagant."

"True, but I'd consider these clothes a necessity. You can't be seen with him dressed in that." She pointed.

Looking down, Grace touched the fabric of her dress. "This one isn't so bad."

"You only have two others to choose from. One of them is for summer."

"I appreciate the gesture. These clothes are so lovely... I just don't feel like I can accept all of this. I feel indebted as it is."

"You'll pay that debt in your work hours. I think you can handle it, though."

"I'm looking forward to working. I feel useless wandering around all day."

"Enjoy it while it lasts, dear. Why don't you try one of these on?"

Grace walked over and held up one of the dresses. "This feels so... unlike me."

"Your dresses now are too young for you. You'll want something more grown up soon enough."

Of course they were young, Grace thought. She'd been wearing them since she was fourteen.

"I don't have to get rid of them, do I?"

"No, but I suspect you'll be wanting to sooner or later."

Definitely not, she wanted to say, but wasn't willing to explain that they were the last dresses her mother had made for her. "At least I'll have them."

. . .

After dinner, Grace strolled through the grounds. She'd enjoyed watching the gardener's progress now that spring was nearly here. She was looking forward to seeing everything in full bloom in a month or two. She flashed on a memory of the garden her mother had kept up until she got sick. Grace had tried to maintain it once she was gone but her heart wasn't in it. Not alone.

She shivered. Too many reminders in too short a time.

She'd changed back into her old dress after trying on what Mrs. Greer laid out. Yes, she did look more grown up, but she wasn't sure she was ready to feel that way. She'd been forced to grow up young. She wasn't sure she was willing to look the part yet if it meant she didn't feel like herself, granted, she was hopeful that people would stop condescending to her with a more grown-up appearance.

She sat down on one of the benches along the garden's walkway. Nearly two months she'd been here and it still hadn't registered. How had she gone from her situation at home, to the streets, and then to living in what she suspected was the biggest mansion in New York City? She was going to be working for one of the richest men in the world. If not for the fact it would alert her father of her location, she would have liked to send a postcard to gloat. So much for hopeless little Gracie.

"Drake said you were out here."

Grace jumped at Oliver's voice, hurrying to her feet. "I'm sorry! Am I not supposed to be here?"

Oliver laughed. "Relax, Grace. You're welcome to go wherever you please."

"Thank you, sir..."

"I just wanted to see what you thought of the clothes. I let Mrs. Greer handle it all. I don't know anything about women's fashion."

"It was very generous of you..."

"But you don't like them."

"No, no," she quickly corrected. "I do. It's just... that must have cost so much."

"You need decent attire for work. You'll be dealing with some of the most important people in the world. What you wear now is so…"

"Young?" she said with a scoff.

"Well yes, that, too. I was thinking more worn."

"I like this dress."

"That's fine. All I ask is that you dress in your new clothes for work. If you really hate them we can have something else made. Whatever you'd like."

"The clothes are fine. Thank you."

"You still seem annoyed."

"It's been a long day."

He gestured for her to sit as he took half of the bench himself. "How are your typing lessons going?"

Sitting, though not comfortably, she answered, "I'm up to one hundred words per minute."

Oliver's eyes widened. "You learn fast."

"I'm afraid my shorthand is coming along as good. I can't seem to remember all of the abbreviations."

"I'm not concerned. So long as you can take notes quickly and read your own writing I don't care if you make up your own code."

"That takes some pressure off."

"I'm not expecting you to have everything perfected by the time you start. I know you've probably heard what a tough boss I am, and it's true, but I'm aware that you're just starting out. Given how quickly you've been picking things up I'm not concerned."

"Thank you, Mr. Warbucks," she said quietly.

They were quiet a moment before Oliver broke the silence. "How are you doing in general?"

"Fine."

"That bad, hmm?"

Grace sighed. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but things feel strange. I'm not used to such fine things surrounding me, never mind in my own room — in my closet. And I hope you're planning on taking things like the new dresses and whatever else out of my pay."

"Consider the clothes an early birthday present."

"It's way too much. I'll bet that it cost more than every birthday gift I've ever received combined and multiplied."

"You're too preoccupied with the price of things," he grumbled. "And that's coming from me."

"Because I've never had any money."

"Guess I understand that," he chuckled. "It took me a while to spend any of the money I'd made after my first million."

"You say that so casually."

"I do now, but like you, I didn't grow up with much."

"Really?"

"When my parents died, I vowed never to be in the position of homelessness again. It took a while, but I made it."

"How long?"

"About a decade."

"You mean you started working at twelve?" she questioned.

"Had to. I refused to be sent to an orphanage. I couldn't fathom sitting around until they released me at sixteen or eighteen and have to start with even less."

"How did you manage it? I know I'm a girl, but the best I was able to get was a day's work. Even that was a struggle."

"Times were different then. Not many people cared how old you were so long as you were strong and willing to work. But no, I don't suspect it would have been any easier for a woman even then."

"I'm counting my blessings that our paths crossed," she said with a hint of embarrassment. "I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't taken me in."

"Nowhere good, I suspect. You look like an entirely different person now than you did even a month ago."

"In a good way?"

"Yes," he said. "You were ill."

"Funny how sometimes you don't notice it happening until it gets bad."

"You were in survival mode."

"Apparently I wasn't doing a good job of it."

"No, but you didn't do too bad given it was the first time in the city."

"Thanks?"

He chuckled again. "If not for the snow, you might not have needed help."

"I'm not so sure," she said softly. She wasn't so full of pride that she couldn't admit that now.

"This arrangement seems to be working out for both of us. I'm eager for you to start working. Organization isn't my strong point."

"Couldn't I start now? I know I haven't got everything down yet, but if you need help now I can at least do something."

"I'd feel better if we wait until next month."

"Until I turn eighteen, you mean."

Oliver pursed his lips. He'd never said so in so many words, but it became obvious to Grace early on that this was the secret starting date.

"You can be honest with me. I'm just confused. If there's something I can be doing it's better than letting the days pass. I'm feeling better now. I've had enough time to rest."

"It's easier once you're eighteen."

"A few weeks is really going to make things that much more difficult? Is it because you don't want people to know that I dropped out of school?"

"No one is going to know how old you are. Trust me, it's all for legal reasons."

"Like what? I don't know how any of this works."

"All the more reason to trust that I know what I'm doing."

"Is it because of taxes or something?"

"Grace, please," he said.

She crossed her arms. "I don't understand the secrecy."

Muttering something under his breath, he gave in. "If your father happens to trace you, he can't do much if you're legally an adult."

The color drained from her face. "How would he find me?"

Oliver let out a breath. "I can't promise your face will stay out of the media. I don't know if he's looking for you, but if he sees a photo of you with me in the paper, he'll know where to look."

"I… never thought of that."

"That's why I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to worry you."

Grace stood. "I can't work for you if he'll be able to find me. He might not be scouring the city for me but if he knew, he'd be here."

Oliver stood as well. "That's why we're waiting. If he shows up now I have no choice but to let him take you. Once you're eighteen and in my employ, I can advocate for you."

She gripped the skin of her elbows. "I don't know if it's worth the risk. Couldn't I work as a maid instead? That's probably better suited to my skills, anyway."

"I think you have potential, Grace. I wouldn't hire you if I thought you would be put in danger."

"You hardly know me," she said, her voice breaking in the middle. "Why should you care about the risk?"

He took a while to answer, his expression angry but trying hard to hide it. "I knew someone once who grew up in a similar situation. I stood idly by then and have regretted it since. Maybe I'm being selfish here, but if I'm able to help someone else, maybe that makes up for what happened."

"What happened?" she questioned, though judging by his posture, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I lost her," was all he said, his voice distant. "Her brother…"

"You don't have to say it," she said.

He nodded.

"Was this a girlfriend?" she asked.

"I guess so," he answered. "Not officially. We were young. About your age."

"I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "I don't like to talk about her or what happened. Now that you know, can you believe me when I say I want to help you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"I promise not to let anything happen to you, Grace."

"Thank you, Mr. Warbucks."

DECEMBER 1933

"Who's this?"

"This is Annie, sir. The orphan you've invited for Christmas."

"Oh… the orphan," he mumbled, but his tone quickly grew stern. "Orphans are boys."

"We never discussed it. I chose a girl."

"Clearly," he humphed. "Well, she'll have to do."

Seeing her opportunity, Annie donned her best smile. "That's okay, sir. I don't mind if you want to trade me for a boy."

Off of Grace's forbidding look, Oliver said, "Don't be silly. I'm happy you'll be staying with us for Christmas."

Annie's smile faded.

She was never going to get out of here.