Nearly a year had passed since Benjamin had left and Lucy had nearly forgotten she had a daughter altogether. She'd sit in her parlor, staring out the window, waiting for something to happen. I never understood how someone could be so disconnected to the world.

About 3 months prior, Lucy had come home in the middle of the night, her clothes torn and her emotions in a wreck. She'd told me about what Judge Turpin had done to her. It of course angered me and made me want to slit his throat. But in reality there was nothing I could do. It was only a few days after that, did I realize she'd completely changed.

One morning, as Lucy sat in her parlor I brought her tray of food in. It was a bit early for breakfast but Johanna was sleeping and it was easier when she wasn't around Lucy at all.

"I'm going to do it, Eleanor." She whispered.

"Do what, dear?" I asked. Lucy looked at me, but I don't think she saw me. She seemed to be starring through me. Her eyes were distant and empty.

"I'm going to kill myself." She said. I just blinked a few times and shook my head.

"Now why would you want to do that?" I asked.

"He isn't coming back, Eleanor." She said. "Ben isn't coming back." This was the first she'd mentioned Ben in almost 6 months. I swallowed hard.

"I know." I said simply. "But that's no reason to-"

"I'm going to do it." she said again. "Tonight."

"How?" I asked. She looked down at the ground, then back out the window.

"I'll find a way." I knew there was no communicating with her after that and I left.

I didn't know she'd actually do it.

~X~

Lucy Barker was dead. Her body still lingered in the streets of London, but Lucy Barker herself was gone from the world. The arsenic had forever damaged her brain to a point where I couldn't care for her. And she was unhealthy for Johanna. So after a few short weeks, she was gone from the barber shop. Leaving it vacant. It was quite unsettling.

~X~

Johanna was 3 and I was her mum. Albert was the closest thing she had to a father and she didn't know the difference. We celebrated her 3rd birthday at the beach. And by we, I mean me and her. Albert was busy sleeping.

We ate at the pier and sat in the sand and swam a bit in the water. Not that I thought she'd remember this in years to come. But the girl deserved one good birthday out of three.

Though not legally she'd grown up being called Johanna Marie Lovett. I claimed her, not Albert. He never wanted her to start with. Every day something happened that I wished Benjamin could've been there for. The first time she took a step, or the first word she said, which was pie. The first picture she drew on the wall with a black pencil. Even the first time she got a cut on her head from hitting it on the coffee table. I missed him horribly. And yes, I still loved him.

I was in love with the biological father, of my unbiological daughter.