And that story begins on the edge of a town on the edge of a county in a cold, grey, stone building that declared itself "Mother Mary's Home for Orphan Souls," but wore the harsh manner of a prison more comfortably than that of a home. Huddled together under a thin grey blanket, near a barred window, sat two young girls, one tall and spindly, and the other small and delicate of feature. What had brought them together, one could not say- fate draws who it will together, unconcerned for the logic of men. But together the grimy blondes had suffered this fortress of children, and together they sat on this cold and rainy night, struggling to keep warm.