Nellie Lovett's pointy, black, lace-up boots tapped against the old wood of the stairs which ascended to Mr. Todd's shop as she climbed them. The baker was quite unsteady as she struggled with the feat of balancing Sweeney's lunch tray in her right hand, while hiking her troublesome layers of skirts up with the other hand. Mrs. Lovett had learned, through many days of undergoing this treacherous routine, that this task was simplified if she supported herself on the left railing in just the right fashion. Still, why couldn't that selfish man come down from his shop for all of ten minutes? It proved how dedicated Mr. Todd was to his revenge, and, in an odd way, Mrs. Lovett revered him for it.

Nellie reached the top of the stairs and slowly pushed open the door of the barber's room. The baker looked around to find nobody present.

"Mista T?" She called softly and hesitantly, but got no response. It was very peculiar for Sweeney to leave his shop unattended, and without any sign of where he could have gone off to. On the other hand, he was a very mysterious man, and though Mrs. Lovett wished she knew every detail about him, she didn't.

The short, frizzy-haired baker walked the tray of food over to the mirrored dresser which was located behind Sweeney's chair and set it down. She was filled with an eerie sensation, for Mrs. Lovett had never been in Mr. Todd's shop when he wasn't there. Nellie eyed the barber's five silver razors, laying orderly in their velvet case. As always, one was missing, tucked away in Sweeney's sheath, close to him at all times. Mrs. Lovett gently stroked the ornate silver, letting the tips of her fingers brush every indent and crevice of their designs. She knew how important these razors were to Todd, and in those moments the baker felt as if she was feeling the poor man's soul. Though it had gown cold and hard, Sweeney's soul was decorated with such elaborate mysteries and emotions, just waiting to be discovered. If only he would let Mrs. Lovett in...

The curious woman's eyes now rested on the folding, compact, bronze-looking picture frame which the barber always kept close to his work station. It was closed and laying on its side. The baker slowly picked the small item up and carefully pulled it open, revealing the black-and-white, smiling faces of Lucy and Johanna. Lucy had always been beautiful, but over the years, Mrs. Lovett's memory had faded. Now that she saw Lucy's radiant prettiness looking clearly at her again, the baker felt shame, envy, and even pity. Lucy Barker had experienced so much pain and loneliness that she was determined to end her own life. All the while, Nellie didn't do anything to assist the poor soul. Mrs. Lovett had been only thinking of how happy she would be with Benjamin all to herself. And now, even with Lucy out of the way, Sweeney Todd was still distracted by his "late" wife. Why couldn't he see how much Mrs. Lovett cared for him?

Nellie stared at Lucy's luscious and flowing hair. Even in the worn, dark, dull photo, Lucy's hair seemed to stand out like a precious treasure. The baker reached up with one hand to touch her own brown, dirty, dry mess of hair. It had a coarse, tangled feel to it, and Mrs. Lovett felt immediate intimidation and jealousy. Lucy's eyes were alight with peace and all her features seemed soothing, and almost angelic, as she held her beautiful baby girl on her lap. Mrs. Lovett glanced up into the mirror and saw her same pale, sickly, and weak-looking face.

No wonder Mr. Todd sees right past me. No wonder he doesn't care about my feelings.

Just as Nellie was ready to drown in her own jealous heartache, she heard the creak of the floorboards in the doorway. Reflexively, Mrs. Lovett suddenly jumped in surprised fright, whirling around at the same time to see who had startled her. As she did this, the picture of Lucy and Johanna slipped out of her fingers and landed with a sharp "Crack!" on the wood floor.

Flustered and embarrassed, Nellie looked up to see Sweeney himself glaring at her, angrier than ever.

"Oh, Mista T, ya startled me!"

She quickly bent down on her knees to pick up the shattered glass, quickly blurting out an apology to the fuming Todd in attempt to shield her embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry, love. Wish I could stop being so bloody clumsy all the time... me was just bringin' up yer lunch and—"

"You like to break things, eh, poppet?" Mr. Todd snarled at her in a tone that clawed at her heart and sent shivers through her spine. He had pulled out one of his friends and was pointing it at Mrs. Lovett, eying her throat. Sweeney was advancing towards her in long strides, until she was trapped in the back corner of the room, her back to a tall mirror.

"I really didn't mean to, please, I'm sor—"

With that, the barber grabbed Elanor's neck with his strong, free hand and smashed her body into the mirror. As Mr. Todd released her, she stumbled back and felt the glass crack under her weight. Some smaller pieces fell to the floor, but most of the mirror stayed in place, despite the large fissures that now ran through it.

"There. Now you've broken something else," Sweeney Todd growled carelessly as he turned his attention to the picture frame.

Tears pooling in her eyes and too terrified to speak, the baker swiftly fled the room, only taking a short glance back at Sweeney once when she was halfway out the door. He was bent over the remains of one of his favorite possessions, broken into a million different pieces, courtesy of Nellie. She didn't even mind the pain which she felt in her back and the thin line of blood running down her shoulder from a stray piece of glass off of the mirror. Elanor probably would have been better off if Todd had just slit her throat right then, and she wouldn't have to live with her head replaying the heartbreaking image of him, masking his distress with rage as he weighed the possibility of killing her. Mrs. Lovett was halfway down the stairs and thought she faintly heard Sweeney's voice...

"Johanna..."

She had really hurt him this time. The baker knew that the picture was probably only slightly crumpled, but the glass had completely shattered and the folding frame that held it all together was busted in two. The whole frame had extreme sentimental value to the barber, and it was all Mrs. Lovett's fault for destroying it so carelessly. What hurt the most, though, was the fact that there was nothing that could be done to make amends for this mistake, because Sweeney Todd wasn't a forgiving person, and would despise her forevermore.

For the rest of the day, Mrs. Lovett could not focus. The flow of hungry customers in the evening was an insignificant blur, while the baker's churning mind was centered on her fear of the barber. Throughout the evening, this became a problem. Nellie's waning attention caused her to pour a customer's ale onto their pie rather than into their drained cup. And before the night was over, Mrs. Lovett's distractedness led to several broken plates. Toby had never seen his mum behave in this manner, and asked more than once if she was feeling alright, doubting the woman's assurance.

When she was finally able to retire for the evening, Nellie was extremely relieved. She lounged exhaustedly in the comfortable parlor, gazing into the burning fireplace before her. The baker thought of the flickering flames as Mr. Todd, and she as the wood that stoked it. Though Mrs. Lovett did all that she could to support Sweeney—such as helping him set up shop and dealing with the man's deceased clients—he was never satisfied, never grateful. As every passing day went by, Todd was slowly consuming his subservient comrade in thoughts, words, and actions. Mrs. Lovett could not do anything to end his flaming control over her, for her heart would not permit it. The baker slowly came to the conclusion that the events of the afternoon were out of her control. Nothing that she could do would satisfy him. The vengeance-bent barber wouldn't care for any attempts Elanor might make at replacing his broken frame. He would never care for her the way she cared for him. The hungry fire would keep burning, eating away at the brittle branches of wood, one by one. Eventually, Nellie Lovett would exhaust her efforts, and become a pile of ash, all because of that relentless fire, the man called Sweeney Todd.