AFTER
There was a loud crashing sound from at the gates outside Burns Manor. "What the devil is that ruckus!" Burns growled, looking up from his morning breakfast. Johan strode out onto the front balcony and looked down. A grey sedan had rammed the gates, bending them aside, and roared up the driveway. It screeched to a halt outside the main steps.
Two women got out. The driver wore her red hair pinned back. She rushed to the passenger side to open the door, but the figure inside waved her away. The passenger was wearing a dark colored shawl over her head and shoulders. She was painfully thin.
As Johan watched, the thin woman pushed the cloth back from her face and stared up at Burns Manor with a look of pure malevolence. It was the pained and drawn face of Mrs. Roberta Smithers.
Johan saw the unyielding determination in her eyes. "Oh no," he muttered, hastily ducking away from the window.
"What was that," Burns demanded, looking up.
"Mrs. Smithers is here."
Burns felt his blood go cold. "Oh no…" he whispered.
AFTER
Roberta pounded her fist on the front door. "Open up," she bellowed, Charlotte standing behind worriedly. "Come out, you bastard, you coward!"
Burns walked with determination to the front door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johan's finger hovering above a button labeled The Hounds. Burns hastily shook his head and drew a finger across his throat.
Straightening his tie, he opened the front door wide.
Gaunt and angry, Roberta flew into the entryway like a storm. Though her cheeks were sunken in, her eyes burned like two dark lumps of coal ember. "Where is he," she hissed, looking first left, then right.
Burns put on his most blasé face, and hoped the expression worked.
"If you're referring to Mister Smithers, he is quite patently not here."
Roberta had a mad gleam to her eye. She continued to swing her head from side to side, looking. "Waylon!" she screamed. "Waylon! Get down here!" Charlotte grabbed Roberta's arm protectively.
Burns narrowed his eyes. "You may tear this entire house apart, Roberta, but you won't find him." He felt his chest begin to tighten. Composure, he admonished himself. Don't lose it now, Monty. He took a shuddering breath and threw his arms wide, eyes starting to fill with unshed tears. "He's gone, Roberta! And he's never coming back!"
Mrs. Roberta Smithers hunched her shoulders menacingly and regarded Burns with a look of barely restrained fury. Their eyes met, and something in her face softened almost imperceptibly.
"The funny thing is, old monster… I actually believe you."
She spun on her heel, pulling her shawl tighter around her body, and stalked to the door.
Charlotte paused and looked back over her shoulder. "I'm sorry about your gate," she began. "We'll pay for that."
Burns waved his hand sadly, dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I'll tend to that. It happens more than you'd expect."
Charlotte gave him an inscrutable expression, then turned and followed Roberta to the car.