It was warm out today; stuffy, even. The shop door was propped open and a few windows were even left agape to allow a breeze in, but Lavinia still stood behind her counter feeling uncomfortably hot. She feared unsightly signs of sweat, and was fanning her face and neck with a wad of paper. As usual, business was slow in jewellery shops this early in the day and she was doing her best to stay entertained without a newspaper to leaf through.

She was not alerted to the presence of a customer until they closed the door behind her, triggering the little bell above the frame. She wanted to ask them to leave the door open but supposed it would be easier to wait until they were done here.

"Hello sir, how can I help?" Lavinia smiled, standing tall with her hands neatly at the counter in front of her.

"You can start by holding your hands up and moving into that there back room, love." The man grunted, clumsily pulling a gun from his jacket and aiming it at her head. The girl blinked and quickly lifted her hands, walking backwards into the side room where small repairs were made, heels clacking on the wooden floor. The bell sounded and heavier footsteps seemed to rumble around the shop floor. She caught a glance of the men before being pushed further into the side room by the fellow wielding a weapon.

Well, no one could say they expected to be robbed, but Lavinia was still taken aback. How in God's name would she explain this to her father? He'd be worried for her, probably, but at the same time he'd be furious that they'd lose money. She couldn't help but think volunteering to work the shop alone today would be a source of blame.

"Where is the safe?" the man demanded, waving his gun around before training it on her forehead.

"In the back room." Lavinia yielded a reply, nodding her head to the doorway behind her. She was grabbed by the arm and pushed towards the door, which she opened reluctantly. The safe was full of money and items that needed to be taken for appraisal or restoration somewhere else. There was more in that safe than there was on the shop floor, in terms of monetary worth.

"Open it. "

"I can't, I don't know the code." She lied. "Just take what you want from the shop and go."

"We want what's in the safe! Don't say you don't know, because I got a fella who says he saw you put something in it last week. You work here, so you got access to the safe. Now open it!" the gun was butted against her head and Lavinia teetered back a bit. Her eyes were stinging and watering and she could just imagine the fury her father would be spewing. They'd be ruined before they'd even had a chance to set the business up properly. The man seemed clumsy with his weapon and she hoped he might not actually know how to use it. Maybe they'd just give up...

"I won't."

"What did you say?" the man hissed, glass smashing out in the main floor behind him. Several men came in with arms full of bags, impatient to see what the larger haul was.

"I said I won't. You can go try your luck at a bank or another shop. I won't open it."

"Yes you will." He snarled now, and Lavinia was struck along the jaw by something hard – it could have been the gun or his fist, she did not see. She stumbled back and held her jaw, the pain worst in her cheek bone just below the eye.

"I won't open it." She insisted, panting. This time she could see it was a fist, and it collided with her stomach with such force that, even with her corset, Lavinia found herself bent over his arm, gripping onto the material of his coat as her vision blurred for a moment. The pain dulled and spread out through her abdomen slowly and she let go. "I won't!" she screamed now, still winded. The man grabbed her by the hair and lifted her head up, pausing for a moment before shoving her aside instead of doing worse.

"Then I'll open it myself." His gun moved down to the thick metal box.

"It's brand new, state of the art; guns can't break it open." Lavinia could feel the skin under her eye burning with the damage, and she was thankful none of her teeth had taken the brunt. He grabbed her again by the wrist this time and stood her in front of the safe.

"Fine! We'll take what we can from the shop floor and I'll paint the walls of the room with your brains. If you think your life is worth less than whatever is in that there box."

The other men lost colour in their face, and it seemed to Lavinia that none of them were planning on killing her.

"Go ahead." Her voice cracked, but Lavinia felt a painfully strong flow of energy that gave her the will to stand her ground. The man stepped back, arm shaking with rage. There was a click, and Lavinia closed her eyes the instant that she heard a bang, fists clenched tight.

"Jesus, what did you go and do that for?!" one of the men bellowed from behind, watching the woman stumble back and land against the safe with a heavy thud. She slid down further, slumped against the steel box with her head tipped to her chest.

"She- she wouldn't-"

"You idiot! Quick, grab what you can and let's get out of here sharp." Another one shoved his weapon-wielding friend before turning to race back out to the shop floor. The others followed him but as they skidded out from the back room, they found the doorway of the little shop blocked by men, their affiliation noticeable immediately by the blue strips wrapped around their left biceps.

"Morning, fellas." George Lusk sneered, taking a cigarette from his mouth as his eyes met the startled face of the gunman, who dropped his weapon and mouthed a curse under his breath. Some of the would-be thieves tried to bolt back into the other room in the hopes of finding a back door they could escape through, but Lusk and his vigilance committee were faster and stronger in numbers, as always.

Lusk was the first one to find her, as the other men in his company were busy chasing her killers. Slumped down against an unopened safe, her dress not yet stained with blood from wherever she'd been fatally injured. Perhaps they had killed her before the gunshot went off – there was a dent in the safe and her face was marked from a strike. She didn't even look to be in her twenties, and was so slender he thought it must not have been hard to kill the fragile little thing. Stooping down, he brushed some hair from her face and waited a moment to see if she woke. Through his gloves he could feel nothing in her neck, and she grew increasingly pale in the minute or two that he watched her. With a huff, Lusk scooped her up with both arms, shuffling a bit to get a good grip (just because she was dead didn't mean it would be acceptable to drop her). Reluctantly, he told those waiting with the captured thieves, "We should take them to the police station. Her too."

"She dead?" one man asked, eyebrows furrowed as he restrained one of their detained criminals. Lusk nodded, tipping the woman's head forward against her chest so she did not slump back with her mouth forced agape. The crowd grumbled and the restraint on these men became a damn sight rougher as they were dragged down to Leman street.