Jaira plunged her hands into the dirty, tepid water before rubbing homemade lye soap over the white shirt she held in her hand. At least it had been white long ago, a brown stain on the collar and patches betraying its age. Jaira prided herself on her hard work and thriftiness.

"Do you think our husbands will return today? It's been mighty long since they left to squash that uprising..." Elizabeth didn't need to finish her sentence.

"I don't know, but I swore I ...