12 Years Later

"Did you see the news?" Veronica asked, walking into the makeshift living room in the attic and facing the man sitting there. He looked up from his notebook curiously, his pen paused mid-sentence.

"You mean that they changed Mirston to Riverdale? Personally, I think Riverdale suits it much more. Makes it more... mysterious, wouldn't you agree?"

"That's old news, Jughead," Veronica said shaking his head impatiently. He raised an eyebrow, asking her to proceed with what she deemed worthy of news.

"The Coopers are back in power."

"Yes, I know, Veronica. We had this conversation five weeks ago, too," he said, slowly returning to writing in the stolen notebook.

"And now I have even better news. Their eldest, Penelope, is with child," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. She could tell that this caught his attention since his pen stopped on the page. Long enough for him to look up and meet her eyes.

"With... child?" He repeated and she nodded.

"They don't know who the father is. Or she's refusing to tell. Either way, the lord would never have a child born out of wedlock inherit the land and title. Which is why they've opened an investigation to find their other daughter." She said, practically bouncing with excitement. Jughead's blood, on the other hand, ran cold at this.

"You mean Lady Elizabeth? I... I thought she was dead," he said, slowly. After all, if she hadn't been dead, she would have surely been reunited with the family.

"Haven't you heard the rumour in both Eldham and Mir– I mean Riverdale? They're saying that the Lady Elizabeth may have just survived even if while separated from her family."

"I can almost hear the conspiracy gears turning in your mind, Veronica," Jughead said, uncertainty and caution colouring his tone.

"Well, that's not all. The Coopers, in all their infinite generosity, are willing to pay a practically royal sum to someone who can bring the lady back."

"How much are we talking?"

"Enough to make both our lives better and keep them that way for generations to come," she said, a smirk creeping onto her face. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to proceed.

"Well, Jughead Jones, if you're up for it, I have a plan. The Coopers don't know what Elizabeth looks like and neither does the rest of the world. If we can find a girl to play the part and teach her what to say. We can dress her up and take her to Riverdale! Imagine, with all the money, it'll be the last time we'll ever have to forge papers. The last time we'll be forced to live in makeshift attic-shaped houses. All we need is three tickets: one for you, one for me, and one for Elizabeth!" She finished the small speech with a flourish, as if awaiting applause for its brilliance.

"With luck it'll all go smoothly," he said, instead, returning to the pen and paper. Rolling her eyes, she took the seat opposite him, glancing over at the book.

"What are you writing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He said, not looking up.

"Yeah... that's why I asked," she replied and he simply gave her a smile with no response. Sighing she said, "Anyway, I must go to work now. Will you...?"

"I will get the papers and put out advertisements."

"Thank you," she said, getting up and going to the door. She met his eyes one last time, giving him a smile, and exited the attic. Jughead sighed when he heard the door shut and looked at the page he was writing on:

Journey to the Past

It was peak summer when he met her eyes. Her hair shone like locks of gold sitting daintily atop her head while the dirty stable boy watched her run around the gardens with her sister. Little did she know what was to happen to this happiness in a couple of months.

"Are you nervous or excited?" Kevin asked, at the doorway as he watched his friend apply some colour to her lips. She smiled at his reflection in the mirror.

"Both," she replied after a beat, turning around and facing him. He chuckled and said, "Am I still the only one who knows?"

"That I'm going to Eldham instead of heaven knows where? Yes, Kevin. I can't tell Mrs. Brown – she'd be furious."

"Maybe that's a sign. That you shouldn't go so far away from home."

"Eldham is barely an hour away, Kevin. Besides, now that I can leave the house, I need to go to Mirston. You understand that," she said, approaching him with a sad smile.

"You know, Mirston isn't Mirston any more."

"Yes I know they've renamed it. But it will always be Mirston to me."

"Don't tell the revolutionaries that," he said, giving a humourless chuckle. She rolled her eyes but allowed a smile regardless, closing the latches on her trunk. It was very light since it only contained a few books and even fewer clothes. The house was empty today – all the children were at school. The only reason she was still here was because she needed to pack and leave. Mrs. Brown had got her a job in a nearby town in hopes that she would never return – after all, she was already over 18 and money in the orphanage was starting become a problem. Having one less mouth to feed would make all the difference. Betty understood this – she just wished she had a chance to say goodbye properly.

Once at the bus stop and after buying a ticket to Eldham, Betty turned to Kevin and said, "Well, this is goodbye, I suppose."

"You don't have to go to River– I mean Mirston, you know. I mean, if you go so far, you may never return."

"Who will I be if I stay?" She asked, giving him another sad smile. He nodded, looking at the ground.

"Besides, you have Waqim," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes and said, "I suppose that's true. Even if nobody approves of him."

"You'll be fine, Kevin."

"I'm more worried about you than myself, Betty."

"I'll be fine, Kevin," she said, using the same tone and eliciting a half-hearted chuckle from him. She watched the bus appear around the corner and said, "There it is," and he looked back too. Turning back he sighed and said, "Well I suppose this really is farewell."

"Maybe we'll meet again."

"Here's to hope," he said, his turn to give her a sad smile.

"I'm going to miss you. We all are."

"I'm going to miss you too," she said, feeling tears prick her eyes. She gave him a quick, tight hug before pulling away, just as the bus stopped beside them.

"Goodbye, Kevin."

"Good luck, Betty," he said, smiling and squeezing her hand one last time before she climbed into the bus. Managing to get a window seat, she waved to him and watched him turn and walk away after waving back. She watched until he was out of sight.

Nearly five hours later, Betty found herself in an alleyway, feet aching and fingers clutched over the trunk handle. She could see a faded sign hanging over a green door a few feet away. Approaching the sign, she could barely make out:

THE R AL TH T E
c. 1815

The Royal Theatre. She thought to herself, hearing the woman's voice in her head.

"You'll find Veronica Lodge at The Royal Theatre. She can take you to Riverdale."

The door creaked loudly when it opened but the male voice coming from inside was even louder.

"We said blondes! Why are you auditioning? You have brown hair!"

"Wigs exist, Jones!" She heard a female voice respond and cringed slightly at the height of the pitch.

"You may leave. The rest of you ladies... we'll er... we'll let you know," he said and silence followed this. Betty could hear the echo of footfalls and saw a group of women approach her. Save the one brunette, the others all had blonde hair like hers. She stepped aside, allowing them to leave. None of them seemed to even notice her as they exited whence they came. Once the door shut behind them, Betty proceeded, retracing their steps and finding herself on a stage. Whoever had been there seemed to have left and she stared out at the enormous, empty auditorium. She frowned: had she been here before? The theatre felt familiar.

She felt a sort of sad happiness and, when she blinked, she could swear she saw a ballet dancer in the shadows. When she blinked, for a moment she saw bright lights and people looking up at her. But when her eyes opened properly it was dark again. She turned around towards the curtain behind her and approached it, reaching to pull it aside and look for the ballet dancer who seeemed to be haunting her peripheral vision.

"Hey!" She heard a shout behind her and jumped. It felt like waking up from a dream when she heard the voice behind her and spun around, coming face to face with a black-haired boy holding a notebook.