A Second Thought
Sweeney Todd stood at his window, looking out over Fleet Street as he did everyday, always searching for signs of beauty. But everything was gray, always grim and ugly as it had been since he'd discovered his wife's death. He swallowed, jumping slightly when a porcelain hand rested on his shoulder.
"Mr. Todd?" It was his neighbor, his partner in crime Nelly Lovett. He didn't even glance at her; he didn't see the use in it. "Can I ask you a question?"
He grunted, his eyes still scanning the horizon.
"What did your Lucy look like?"
The question caught him off guard. His jaw dropped and he clenched and unclenched his fists. His breath caught in his throat, but it didn't matter. No words could be formed anyway. Mr. Todd suddenly realized that . . . he couldn't recall a picture of her. Mrs. Lovett, quick-witted as ever, guessed as much.
"You can't even remember, can you?" She asked, though her voice wasn't accusing.
Sweeney squinted, "She had yellow hair," he said, remembering through the haze that small detail. This brought a smile to his lips. He hadn't completely lost the memory of his wife . . . not yet at least.
"She's gone, you know," Nelly said softly, "And ain't nothin' gonna change that. Life is for the alive, my dear. It's time to move on." She licked her lips, seemingly hesitant to go on, "We could have a life together, you and me. Maybe . . . not how you remember, not how I dreamed, but we could still have it."
He turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowing. Mr. Todd took her arm gently, his lips parted as though he were about to speak, to agree. Perhaps it would be better; perhaps he could be happy again. Maybe not happy, but maybe he could have someone to love again. He was about to say as much, perhaps for the first time accept the fact that Lucy was gone—
"He's locked her away in a madhouse!"
Sweeney looked past Mrs. Lovett to see that Anthony had burst through the door. "Johanna?" He sidestepped, forgetting Mrs. Lovett entirely now.
Nelly closed her eyes. She'd gotten through to him. She knew from the look in his deep brown eyes that she had but now that sailor had ruined it! There were no second chances now, Sweeney had his mind on other things, and all hope for them was lost.
"A madhouse!" Sweeney was enraged, but then . . . . Then it hit him. Judge Turpin had made a fatal mistake. He would have his revenge and his little girl, both. The Judge's time had come.