About the book
Before the Lantern Sisterhood
When Elspeth March lifted the brass lantern from beneath her dead mother's bed, the handle came away black with soot and old blood. She did not scream. By twenty-nine, a woman who had buried a mother, kept a classroom through three winters of hunger, and learned to smile while men explained civilisation to her had spent all her screaming where no one could invoice her for the noise.