Mystic Falls, March, 1864

Charlotte had not seen Damon in fifteen months. Fifteen months had passed and she had not felt the touch of his skin, the feel of his mouth, nor had the joy of his witty comments. She had felt empty for so long. She felt as though she was not whole without him. She went about her job in the camp, passing by each day and wondering if she would receive a letter from him.

Damon had been shipped out to Atlanta and had found himself stuck there for eight months. He had applied for leave to return to Mystic Falls and had it denied, instead having to go back to rounding up deserters near Richmond. But by the time he had had been transferred, Charlotte too had been transferred to another camp where there was a shortage of nurses. Their paths did not cross and Charlotte had to admit that she had been saddened.

They wrote to each other whenever they could. She would hold onto his letters, pressing them tightly to her chest as though that would help ease her pain. She needed to see him just once. She needed him to come home. She needed him now more than ever.

Charlotte had been in a camp just outside of Maryland when she had received the letter and she felt her entire world crumble around her. Her mother's writing had been neat and clean, but there were parts where the paper wrinkled which had initially confused Charlotte, but she saw it was now due to her tears.

Breaking down into tears, Charlotte had initially gone into shock at the news, wanting to do nothing more than run away. She needed to run and get home. She needed to get home and make sure that she could be with her mother. She could only imagine what her mother was going through.

Charlotte had asked for dismissal, claiming that she could no longer serve as a nurse. Her mother would need her back at home and that was where her priority had been. She did not want to desert her fellow nurses, but she needed to go. She was permitted leave and she had found herself travelling back to Mystic Falls as soon as possible.

When she had finally returned home, she had walked into the front door and she had wept uncontrollably, taking hold of her mother who did the same. Both of them fell to the floor, embracing each other. Marianna cradled her daughter to her, trying to be strong but failing miserably. She did not know how to tell Charlotte of everything else that had happened. She did not know how to do it.

She would wait until after the funeral.

The funeral of Boris Wallis was a small affair. His pupils attended alongside their parents, some of them crying at their loss. Charlotte and Marianna had stayed long after everyone had gone. Charlotte had moved her hand to the top of the headstone, bowing her head as Marianna rested her hand on her shoulder. Both of them had shed all the tears they had. Nothing came out now.

"Was it quick?"

Charlotte was sat in the chair her father usually occupied in the small parlour room, curled into a ball in her nightgown after the funeral had taken place. Her mother had poured her a small glass of bourbon and she cradled it in her fingertips. Marianna sat on the seat across from her, holding her own glass as she looked to the fire.

"Incredibly," Marianna said, her voice croaking slightly. "He did not suffer long…as soon as he was taken ill I knew. He…I wanted to write to you and tell you to come back, but he knew you would not make it. He knew you would not get home in time."

"I should have been here."

"No," Marianna shook her head. "Your father was incredibly proud of you, Charlotte. You cannot begin to understand how proud he was…"

Charlotte felt her eyes well with tears as she nodded her head slowly and Marianna downed her alcohol before taking a deep breath, her hand running through her unruly hair as she contemplated what she was about to tell Charlotte. She didn't want to do this, but she had to. Her daughter had to know the extent of their problems.

"But there is something else I need to tell you," Marianna said, her voice low and shaking once more. "Your father…he…you know that he brought in all of the money, don't you?"

"Yes," Charlotte nodded.

"Well…I…for a while we have been struggling to keep the house and pay the bills," Marianna said. "It has been this war. All the young men going off to fight has meant that your father has not been needed. I know we have always been comfortable, but things have gone up in price and business has dropped…the apothecary has been taken over and Pearl…the woman who now owns it…she has no use for me."

Charlotte felt herself turn ill at what she was hearing. She could not believe what words she was hearing. Moving from where she had curled herself into a ball, she looked to her mother who had doubled over and buried her head into her hands. Sobs wracked through her body as Charlotte shook her head.

"We will have nothing," she spoke, her voice breaking as Charlotte knelt by her on the floor. "There is nothing, Charlotte…everything…there are no jobs…the economy is torrid and no one is hiring anyone because of this war."

"I can help," Charlotte said, needing to make this better for her mother. "I will find a way to help you."

"There is nothing, Charlotte," Marianna said, looking her daughter in the eye. "The funeral cost a small fortune and the house…I do not know how long I can keep it for. You need to understand that there is nothing."

"No," Charlotte said. "Mother, I cannot believe that. I will not believe it."

"You must," Marianna said. "Charlotte…all I can think to do is leave this town…leave Mystic Falls and hope that I can find work elsewhere. I…I may not have enough money to travel far…or find a room to rent…"

"Why are you talking like that?" Charlotte whispered. "I would come with you. I will not let you do this alone. Damon and I had been saving money for when we were married…I have my share…it might not be enough but it will keep us going."

"That money is for you and Damon," Marianna shook her head. "Charlotte, you promised to marry him when he returned. You have to wait for him."

"He will understand," Charlotte assured her. "He will understand."

"Sweetheart," Marianna said, moving her hand to roam her daughter's cheek. "I cannot do this…just the thought of becoming homeless…Charlotte…"

Her mother broke down and Charlotte had no other option but to lean over her, holding her as tightly as possible as she closed her eyes and felt her own tears begin to fall. She had no idea what she should do. She just knew that she had to do something and quickly.

Mystic Falls, April, 1864

Giuseppe knew that it had been a stroke of good fortune. He knew as soon as Boris had died and Marianna had lost her job that it would only be a matter of time before rumours of their poverty struck the town. He had heard that they could only afford their home for the rest of the month before they were homeless. He knew what he had to do and he felt no remorse over doing it.

Summoning Charlotte to his home would no doubt put the young girl on tenterhooks. She would be nervous and full of worry. She would do everything in her power to object to what he was going to offer her, but he knew she would accept. She would accept if she had any common sense.

His maid knocked on the door to his study, letting the girl in. Giuseppe stood up and looked to Charlotte. The girl looked thinner than usual, her red hair unruly around her face. She wore a white blouse that had been tucked into her black skirt, a shawl over her shoulders as she looked at Giuseppe.

"Miss Wallis," he said, sneering her name. "How gracious of you to accept my invitation."

"Is it Damon?" Charlotte wondered from him. "Has there been any news?"

"None whatsoever," Giuseppe spoke, sitting back down in his seat as he offered her the chair across from him.

She sunk down onto the edge of it, her hands holding the edges of the red shawl she wore to keep her warm. She looked around the study, unable to think of it as being anything but cold, despite the sun shining outside. She looked around, noticing all of the books he kept on shelves and she wondered if he had read every single one of them.

Charlotte had to admit that she was nervous when in the presence of Giuseppe. She knew what he had done to Damon as a child and she knew exactly what he had done to him as an adult, constantly speaking negatively about him and manipulating him.

"I hear you are having monetary problems," Gisueppe said, not beating around the bush as Charlotte nodded.

"I believe the whole town has heard about that," she said and Giuseppe smiled, but it was not genuine. It was cold.

"Yes," he said. "No doubt the prospect of living as a beggar does not fill you and your mother with joy. The economy truly is no good right now. Of course, you could always go back to nursing, but what then? What happens when the war ends and you still have no money?"

"We will get by. We have each other," Charlotte spoke clearly. "If I am not here because of Damon then why am I here?"

Giuseppe frowned. She always had been too bold for her own good, even as a child. "Well, Damon will feature in this conversation. You see, I have an offer to make you," Giuseppe spoke to her. "There is a job vacancy that I know of. Mrs Littlewood needs a new cook."

"You are here to help me?"

"If you allow it," Giuseppe nodded. "You see, Pamela and I go back and I could always recommend your mother for the job. No doubt she could find some place for you in her household. I have considerable influence in Mystic Falls, you see."

"I know," Charlotte said. "But why would you want to help us? You detest me."

"True," Giuseppe nodded, lacing his fingers together on his kneecap. "But, you see, Charlotte. If I help you then you need to do me a favour…something you will not like but have no say in. I want you to call off your engagement with Damon."

Shaking her head, Charlotte stood. "No."

"I do not think you were listening," Giuseppe said and also moved to his feet. "Do you forget who I am? I am offering you a way out of poverty. I am willing to do that for you."

"There will be other jobs."

"Do you think so?" Giuseppe demanded from her. "This is a one time offer, Charlotte. Accept this and your mother will be fine. Decline and I make sure no one in this town looks in your direction should a vacancy arise. Yes, you could try another town but the economy is shocking everywhere you go. How long do you think it would be until your mother has to sell her body for money?"

Charlotte felt instant disgust at hearing him speak in such a manner. She felt bile rise in her throat as Giuseppe moved towards her and she stepped backwards, seeing the gleam in his eye. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying being the one with the power.

"Damon will not save you from poverty. You could marry him and I would disown him and all three of you would be helpless," Giuseppe hissed at her. "Is my son worth more than your mother?"

"I will tell him," Charlotte said, her voice low and dangerous. "I will write to him and tell him."

"If he ever finds out then I will have Pamela cast you both out. I would have no one in this town help you," Giuseppe declared. "Make no mistake about that."

Charlotte shook her head with haste as Giuseppe stepped forwards, moving a hand to her cheek, his thumb roaming along her cheekbone as she remained still, unable to move as her hands shook by her side.

"I can see why Damon is so taken with you," Giuseppe whispered. "You truly are stunning."

Charlotte pushed him from her and Giuseppe chuckled.

"Do not worry, I have no interest in you," he told her. "But I will give you some time to think on my offer…let us say an hour…an hour before I do everything in my power to drive your mother away from this town with you in tow."

"Why?" Charlotte whispered to him. "Why do you want to see us suffer so?"

"I do not. I have offered you both a chance at employment. I am helping you."

"You are hurting Damon."

"No," Giuseppe shook his head. "My son will soon recover from you when he returns…if he returns…believe me, you are young, Miss Wallis. You will find some man worthy of you."

"And Damon is not?"

"No, you are not worthy of him," Giuseppe clarified to her.

Charlotte listened no more, turning on her heel and moving from the room. The door opened wide and she scurried across the parlour, ignoring the woman that had been taken in by the Salvatore's as she stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched Charlotte run from the house.

Mystic Falls, May, 1864

Damon had received the letter over a month ago and ever since then he had been demanding leave. He needed to return home and discover what had happened for he knew something was wrong. He had changed into a simple white shirt and breeches, his suspenders covered by his jacket as he rushed from his home to find her.

He had heard she had taken up a position in the Littlewood household as a maid. He had found her leaving the residence as he approached it, moving down the dirt track road. She wore a simple blouse and skirt, her head bowed and her hair covered her face. Damon rushed towards her, his hand wrapping around her arm as he stopped her from moving, startling her as he held the scrunched up letter in his fingers.

"Do you mind telling me what this is?" Damon snapped, his voice harsh and full of anger as he watched her back away from him slightly, his hand still holding her arm as she shook her head.

"It has been months since we have seen each other, Damon…things change…feelings change…"

"No," Damon shook his head. "Do you know how I felt when I read this? I felt as though someone had ripped my heart out. I felt as though someone had ripped it out and trampled all over it…reading that you no longer wanted to marry me…be with me…Charlotte…"

"Damon," Charlotte sighed and he tried to read her face, but he couldn't. He could see nothing there. She was stoic. "I apologise, but I had to tell you."

"No," Damon shook his head. "I do not believe it, Charlotte. I do not believe everything you wrote in there. None of this makes sense."

"It does not need to," Charlotte said, pulling her arm from his grip. "My feelings do not need to make sense, you just need to accept them."

His eyes widened and he tried to hold back the feeling of tears. "Accept that you no longer love me? How can I do that? After everything we have been through, Charlotte…I know…I know that these words are not true."

"They are," she protested, but the force of her words were weak. "Damon, just go."

"No," he said. "Tell me what it is. I heard about your father…I am so sorry, Charlotte…and I heard about the money problems you had…but please…just tell me why you have done this."

"There is nothing to tell," Charlotte shrugged.

"Then say it," Damon challenged her. "Look me in the eye and tell me you do not love me. A letter means nothing…say it to my face…"

Damon saw it then. He saw the hurt flicker over her face as she looked away and he knew. He knew there was something else happening. Grabbing her hand, Damon managed to bring her gaze back to his face.

"Speak to me," he pleaded her. "Is it my father? Has he done something?"

She changed then, pulling her hand from his as she looked to him with narrowed eyes. "Just leave me alone, Damon. There is nothing between us…not now…just let me go."

Damon remained in shock as she tugged her skirts from the floor and ran. Damon wanted to chase after her, but his feet could not move. He was stuck to the floor, the letter he held dangling in his hand by his side. He dropped it, letting it fall to the floor as he stared after her, tears slowly moving into his eyes. He knew this was not real. It was all a cruel trick. He just had to find out what was happening.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think if you are reading!