“It was self-defense, Sarah. And that's the truth!”

“Finny, you know good as me that won't be matterin' a whit. Not to the mayor and not to any of the other men in charge. What his son did to you won't even be bandied about. Only what you did to him.”

Police whistles sounded, drawing their attention toward the street.

“You have to go, Finny. Now.”

“Go? Go where?”

“As far away from Atlanta as you can get.”

“But Sarah, my life is here. You're here. The other women, my students. Without all of you, I—”

“You're not goin' to have a life if you stay here. You'll not only be goin' to jail, you'll never be gettin' out. Not with how things are right now. Remember what they did to your dear Todd. You know I'm speakin' the truth.” Doubt crept into her eyes. “Maybe what we're fightin' for is too much. Maybe—”

Sarah, who rarely showed her more tender emotions, struggled to contain tears, and for the first time since they'd met at a suffrage rally nearly two years earlier, Josephine read fear and disillusionment in her friend's expression.

“Maybe it's never goin' to happen, Finny. At least not in our—”

“No.” Josephine looked her in the eyes. “Don't ever say that. We have to remember . . . Failure is impossible.”

With a tepid nod, Sarah rose and pulled Josephine to her feet… “You just killed the mayor's son, Finny! In self-defense, I know, I was here. I seen it. But a woman's testimony counts for nothin', do you hear me? Nothin'. So if you want to live, you will run!”