WN: Hello! I'm sorry for the delay in posting this, but I had tendonitis and wasn't allowed to write anything for a week, and I've been quite busy in the past week… but REVIEW!

"I think it's horrible," whispered Sybil. Edith rolled her eyes.

"You always think death is horrible, darling. This is reality".

Mary couldn't participate in the conversation. Her thoughts were focused on other issues, albeit related to the subject that they were conversing about… but she would not dare voice her thoughts and problems.

"Oh, but he was so young! Dying young is always so… awful. Imagine what he could've gone on to do! He could have changed the world, and he could have gone on to do so much good…" the determination in her voice was eminent. Although she was terribly sweet, whenever she felt passionate about something, she became stubborn and determined. "And I can't imagine how terrible his family must feel… or poor Evelyn…"

"Evelyn did look very upset when he left, yesterday! It makes me feel terrible when I can't do anything to comfort someone who is troubled. Though that's what usually happens". Edith and Sybil were more similar than one would think. They both had terrific amounts of compassion, though the youngest Crawley expressed her compassion much more freely, whilst Edith lacked motivation to find a purpose to pursue.

Neither of the girls noticed that their elder sister, who was trying on different pairs of heels at the moment, had tear-stained eyes, scarlet cheeks and was surprisingly quiet. Mary's pain was coursing through her veins, it was like she had been electrocuted, or worse; a shock fulfilled her. She felt responsible for Kemal's death.

"I wouldn't want to die before having fulfilled a purpose, or a dream of mine… I think it'd be ideal if I left behind people and situations altered by my existence in the world. But you'd find that overly idealistic, wouldn't you?", she joked.

"No, I actually understand it, I think. But it's easier said than done".

…..

"Edith, I think you should apply for the secretarial job at Sir Anthony's office, at least for the summer", said Cora to her blonde daughter.

"But I want to be a biochemist, mum, not a forensic surgeon. Besides, I have no prior experience and I don't really need a job", she paused for a few seconds. "I could be an assistant managing files or observing his work… but nothing more"

"You can do it". Edith had never been overly encouraged by her family to do anything, or at least, not as much as her sisters. She never stood out in anything. She always had less friends and boyfriends than Mary, and she wasn't a little spoiled and pampered like Sybil. She was just Edith. She had found her "calling" in Biochemistry, but was accepted only by the University of Yorkshire, a situation Mary had found hilarious, and sometimes joked about how Edith would become a "plain country science teacher". Edith would always get angry at such statements, but she knew there was nothing she could really do about it. Since she was little, Mary and her detested each other, so their quarrels were frequent and intense. They couldn't be broken until Sybil, a governess or their parents put an end to them. It started out as being just about toys or games, then about magazines of boy bands or even other boy-related issues. And although they were 19 and 21, the catfights remained the same. Maybe a little less hair pulling, but that spite between them was fiery. Deep down, they knew they loved each other a great deal – but they very, very rarely expressed it. Maybe it was the unwillingness of both parties to give in, maybe it was because their hatred got the best of them. Together they just didn't work out. Solitary, both had their virtues and vices. But Edith always felt overshadowed by Mary.

Edith was no shrinking violet, though – she wanted to be in the spotlight, she longed to follow Mary's footsteps in becoming popular with the press. But she couldn't, everyone knew she wasn't as fierce and impetuous as Mary, the stunning young woman with the alabastrine face and the looks of a Greek Goddess. She'd often compare her looks to her sisters'. She envied Mary's porcelain skin and Sybil's baby face, both girls managing to look nothing like each other but a great deal like their parents. But Edith was the only blonde in the family; and not even a shade she considered pretty, just a dull colour, which she wasn't allowed to alter or change in any way because her mother forbade her to do so. She never asked, of course, but she knew what they'd do. Sybil had once joked about getting blue highlights once, in her own hair – a joke which Cora perceived in a more literal sense than it was intended to be, so she had to made all the girls promise they'd never, ever do anything drastic with their hair colours. Only variations of their natural hair colour. So Edith's wish to dye her hair a fiery red colour had to remain a secret. Mary once dyed her hair a lighter brown, which exasperated both their mother and their grandmother, so she had to dye it her natural shade after a while. Edith was not going to risk ruining whatever respect she had gained within the family.

Her dream was to find true, honest and deep affection, and one of her main goals was to get married before she was 30. She would often reflect upon the facts that such a thing was unlikely, but still wanted it. She didn't daydream much, but she knew where her heart lied.

"Sure, I will apply", said Edith with absolute determination.

….

Cora, despite her loving and generally nice nature, was forming a master plan. She would arrange for Sir Anthony to perform the necropsy and convince him to lie, if necessary, about the cause of death. She sent Edith to work there, not to solely occupy her daughter's time, but to be able to sneak in and steal or destroy any document that might be used against Mary or the family in the future.

Edith did get the job, and she had arranged to work at Dr. Strallen's office three times a week, mainly to answer phones and book appointments, and occasionally, if needed, assist him in his work. On her first day, she wore her favourite casual outfit, a blue shirt with jeans, and felt confident as she walked to the town close by on a Tuesday morning. She was greeted by the cheerful Sir Anthony, and got to work.

"I might like it here," she thought.

…

Edith unsurprisingly enjoyed working for Dr. Strallen. On her second day, she knew they would do a biopsy of the Turkish man who had died at Downton Abbey a couple of days before, to determine the cause of his death. At about noon, Edith's mother and elder sister dropped by, to "see how she is settling in" – but instead of caring about the person they claimed they were there to see, both just went into Sir Anthony's laboratory.

"Good evening, Lady Grantham and Lady Mary", he said, as he looked down on his microscope, before putting it away and standing up to greet them. Cora couldn't tell if his face was meant to be so miserable-looking at times, or if events made it like that. But his already sad-looking face seemed confused.

"Good evening, Sir Anthony" – Cora's voice was cut off by Mary's. "Is there any progress on determining the cause of death?", she asked in a hurried manner.

Strallen was confused and abashed at her sudden request, but after giving it a few seconds of thought, he found it perfectly understandable.

"Yes, yes," he muttered, looking through his papers. "I checked his blood and there are traces of a certain drug which can…well… kill you instantly".

"A drug?", both women exclaimed at the same time.

"It is Peruvian, and rare. Technically, he could've been poisoned, unless he somehow got it in his system by himself".

"Oh my God!", was Cora's initial reaction. Mary felt like tearing up, something she had done more frequently in the past few days than ever before. But she was not going to show the world her weakness; she'd wait until she was alone or with Anna. She had no clue how she could have been that foolish, that stupid – and how she was more mature than she had been two days before. She lost a great deal of sleep, she wouldn't eat or drink anything, she was not in the mood for doing any social activities. She knew that she had to restrain and contain her emotions, to be calm, refined and cold; careful. That was the image she had to show to the world, and that was the image the world was accustomed of with her. She had to pressure herself more than ever to keep her heartbeat steady and not collapse or have a fit in front of a stranger.

"How terrible! Who would do such a thing?", she exclaimed, much to her mother's shock. What Mary wanted was for her mother to play along.

"I don't know, Lady Mary. But I believe that after my report, the police will… have to inspect Downton Abbey. And there is a great chance your cook might be arrested".

"Sir Anthony… I have a small favour to ask of you", said Cora.

"Yes, Lady Grantham?"

"You see, I have complete faith in our chef, Mrs. Patmore. She is not crazy, nor is she a spy that wishes to kill random guests. Besides, wouldn't it be too intricate for any of our staff to poison one young man, a guest, without poisoning us?"

"You… you have a point, but-"

"Should Downton be inspected, it would make the house notorious and the unstained reputation of the family would be disgraced. Surely, Sir Anthony, you do not want that!". Cora's determination was jaw-dropping. Mary had never seen her mother like this before; she was terrifying and convincing. Determination combined with warmth always results in persuasiveness.

"Uh"

Sir Anthony's wide-eyed confusion at the realization of what was being asked of him was the perfect chance for her to continue trying to convince him about it, along with Mary.

….

"We must ask Edith to steal the file," murmured Mary right after they had walked out of the building where Strallen worked.

"But then she'd have to know about it!"

Mary contemplated on the prospect for a few seconds. "You're right. She can't keep a secret. I will take her keys to the office, sneak in, and… do it".

'What about security cameras?"

"If anyone spots me, well… I could always lie, you know. Tell them Edith forgot her phone back there or her jacket. If they don't believe me… well, they will have to know who we are, how influential we are and how their jobs are at stake. Easy peasy".

Cora was stunned at how connive and cunning her daughter seemed. But Mary had every right to be so – she would soon be characterized by maturity. After all, the most damaged people are the wisest.