Eliza

I had gone out to take a stroll in the city. As I passed down shops and stores, people had begun to give me funny looks. I had decided to brush the looks off, they were usually common because of my husband. Alexander Hamilton, oh I loved him so. I had thought our bond was made of steel. But that day, It had changed.

A woman looked at me with sympathy, "Mrs. Hamilton, I am terribly sorry, I can't even imagine what you're going through!"

I frowned and knitted my eyebrows together, "Whatever do you mean?"

The woman took a step back and gasped, "You haven't read the pamphlet?"

"What pamphlet are you speaking of?" I asked. It couldn't have been good…

"The Reynolds Pamphlet!" exclaimed the woman, "Here, I have another copy in my bag…" The woman began to rummage through her bag before she pulled out a pamphlet, "It's written by..your husband...skip to this paragraph."

The charge against me is a connection with one James Reynolds for purposes of improper pecuniary speculation. My real crime is an amorous connection with his wife, for a considerable time with his privity and connivance, if not originally brought on by a combination between the husband and wife with the design to extort money from me.

"A..connection?" I murmured, not wanting to jump to conclusions like my husband, I read a little farther.

As I read I realized my guess was correct.

"I..um..may I take this?'' asked the woman, my voice slightly breaking while doing so. She nodded, the sympathy still crystal clear on her face.

I sped back to my house, trying as hard as I could to ignore the looks filled with pity. I had no idea what emotion I was feeling at that moment as I passed the whispers. I was angry with Alexander. I was embarrassed for myself. I was upset. I was jealous. I was surprised. I was..everything but happy. The whispers, although still unbearable, weren't the worst. After what felt like four years, I finally reached my house. My oldest son Philip looked up at me as I walked into the sitting room and smiled, in his arms was my youngest, William. Thee smile immediately faded as he saw my expression.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Philip asked, still bouncing the baby in his arms.

"Nothing sweetie," I lied, "Where is your father?"

"Daddy is in his office," My daughter said, looking up from her book.

"Okay..I'm gonna be in my room for a few hours then.."

"Wait," Philip handed William to Angelica, "we need to talk."

Philip and I walked down the hallway so that the other children couldn't hear us.

"Mother, please tell me what's wrong," Phillip begged.

"I love you," I kissed his forehead and slipped the pamphlet into his hand.

"What?" He looked at the pamphlet with knitted eyebrows, but when he looked back up to look at me, all he saw was the door to my bedroom.