her behind to join the army.
"I''ve been in prison before too. I was there for four months for attacking a man of property. A father who stands up against those who beat his wife and daughter gets thrown in a cell! What kind of society is this? When I got out of jail, my wife scolded me. She was right. I couldn''t protect them. Society doesn''t allow a poor father to protect his wife and daughter.
"That night, I didn''t go to bed. I sat in the yard. They were counting on me to make a living. If I had stayed with them, at least they would have had enough to eat. But I didn''t want it to be just that way. I wanted Fiona and her mama to never be beaten again. I thought, if I join the republic''s army, no child would be beaten like that anymore.
"Did I do wrong? They told me that even a nobody like me, could be of use in a republic. I thought that once I had achieved something too, I could bring Fiona and her mother here, and we could all have a good life. But now, I''m going to die here." He paused here, his voice slightly trembling as he sniffed forcefully, "Did I do wrong? She should be ten years old by now, turning eleven at the end of September. How are they doing now?"
Edith had never heard this soldier''s voice before, but the unique name Fiona sparked a flicker of familiarity within her.
"I cannot answer whether you did wrong or not, citizen. But I know that there must always be people like you in this world," she whispered through the fissure, addressing the person on the other side.
There was a moment of silence in the adjacent cell. Then, a vibrant voice of a young man broke the stillness.
"We men here, who among us is not someone''s father, brother, or son?"
Edith heard someone stand up and walk over to the peasant, strongly patting his shoulder twice. "Citizen, you may have abandoned your own daughter, but you have adopted the people. You are as great as Jean-Jacques Rousseau."
In the still of the night, the rusty bolts of the neighboring cell screeched once more, as a new group of prisoners were thrown into this already overcrowded dungeon. The original occupants pressed closer, barely making some space for the newcomers.
In a tacit understanding, everyone remained silen