Upon his release, Lloyd Cunningham and his son found refuge in a ramshackle house on the fringes of London. Freedom, however, proved a meager comfort. Survival, a much harsher taskmaster, loomed large. Their meager coin purse, already light from their flight, grew lighter with each passing day. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, a constant reminder of their precarious situation.
"We only have this much left," Lloyd shook out the content of his coin purse onto the table.
Nicholas counted the silver and copper coins one by one.
"It should be enough to last us for another week," he muttered.
"What then?" Lloyd arched a brow at his son. "Starving or begging on the streets?"
Nicholas's face darkened visibly.
"I can try to find a job here in London."
Lloyd scoffed.
"That wretched couple from Canterbury House made sure that our names are known throughout the country. Besides, if you go out to work, I might be exposed as well."
