-XXXVII-

Johanna was caught in such a fearful measure of fear and loathing that she could hardly breathe. She was so very scared and yet she had offered the entire despicable history to a perfect stranger. To his credit, the boy listened intently with sympathetic eyes and a very understanding expression. He didn't speak once during her entire tirade. She spoke of the Judge, and of how she abhorred him. She spoke also of the mad woman who, beneath her filthy rags and frighteningly insane mutterings, was her own mother. When she came to the portion of the tale that involved the fiend who was her father she broke down. She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. To her surprise a comforting hand touched her arm. Her head snapped up and met the eyes of the boy called Toby.

"Your misfortunes are numerous indeed mum, and upon hearing them my own seem less fantastic. You saw him murder the Judge, is that true? If that is the case, all you must do is offer your account of Mr. Todd's villainous ways and you will be safe. He'll not come after you ever again."

Johanna frowned. "It is not Sweeney Todd I fear. He destroyed my enemy, albeit by foul means, and ensured my freedom however unconsciously he did so. I don't wish to turn my father in to the authorities, despite his murdering nature. At this point all I wish is to disappear from this life. My only good thoughts were the imaginary conjuring of my parents and hoping, if they were alive still, that they were happy. It is how I coped with years of imprisonment; shut out from everyone with no prayer to save me from my seclusion. I've been afraid for too many years, and the horrors of these past few nights will haunt me forever. I don't wish to live any longer."

After this confession passed her lips Johanna rested her forehead on her knees and cried quietly. How could she possibly leave now and forget everything that had happened? She couldn't. Her mother, crazed out of her mind, was brutishly murdered by a man she still could not believe to be her father. As she dwelled on the gruesome facts Toby spoke again.

"Unfortunately, mum, I have to return. It's against my better judgment, to be sure, but there is a lady I left there and I want to be sure she is safe. If I may ask, do you have any place to go or someone to turn to at this troubling time? I am sure your prospects'll change when the initial shock wears off."

Johanna realized in a moment that growing up she'd only had one person she could depend on. However, she guessed that Miss Cartwright had departed long ago after her employment was terminated. After all, if Johanna had been in the same situation she would not wish to stay. Although she was relieved the Judge would not come after her, how could she be thankful to such a man as his killer? If she was clever she would have rushed to the first officer she could find. Yet for some strange reason she felt no desire to prosecute Mr. Todd, and it wasn't because he was her father. She was terrified of the man, to be sure, especially when she recalled him standing over her with a blade in his hand. However, there was something in him that sparked such an unfortunate circumstance that Johanna could not think of acting against him. It was far too difficult to explain, especially in her current state.

It was then that she'd regarded Toby's question. Who could she depend on in her time of need? Her thoughts drifted to the boyish visage of Anthony. She felt herself instantly warmed by imagining his warm, kind eyes and gentle nature. If she could turn to anyone in this dark moment in her life, it would most certainly be him. Toby's eyes remained on her with an expression of hope. She met his gaze and allowed a small smile to flutter across her lips.

"I will return with you. I too have a friend there who is no doubt wondering where I am."

Toby looked very glad, and reached out his hand to help her to her feet. Johanna walked beside the boy and attempted to tame her shaking limbs that would hardly hold her up. Her fear felt like ice inside her, and she could not take her hands off the bloody locket about her neck. Her feelings were muddled in detestable confusion, but she fought against her fear as she strode bravely down the dark avenue.

As Clara remained inside the revolting bake-house with a silent Mr. Barker, she felt as though she was fused to the spot, but it was not fear that kept her there any longer. Suddenly Mr. Barker rose steadily to his feet. Caught off guard, Clara jumped backward reflexively, and caught herself within his hard gaze momentarily. Without a word he stepped toward his dead wife and lifted her into his arms. His face remained unchanged as he cradled her in his embrace, holding her as though she was light as a feather. Mr. Barker did not spare another glance at Clara as he strode past her, carrying Lucy Barker out of the chamber solemnly.

Clara didn't dare speak to the silent man, although she desperately wished to inquire to where he was going. She bit her lip in submission as the last of Mr. Barker's footsteps faded from the chamber. For a while she simply stood there with her gaze fixed upon the floor. She rested her hand against her chest, wincing as she felt how fast her pulse was pounding. She had done her best to ease Mr. Barker's suffering, although she was quite certain there was nothing to be done for him. She refused to believe that Benjamin Barker was lost forever, despite how much evidence proved it. Clara rested her back against the cold stone and stared at the massive oven positioned at the opposite end of the chamber. The memory of Mrs. Lovett's excruciating wails echoed through Clara's head unmercifully, causing her to sag against the wall with a nauseous stomach. What a horribly tragic night it had been; Clara was hardly sure how she had kept herself from fainting throughout each dreadful ordeal that grew more gruesome than the last. Suddenly, a voice called from above.

"Johanna? Johanna, where are you?"

Clara felt a gasp escape her throat at the sound of Anthony's cries. Then Johanna was here. Clara abandoned the bake-house and rushed as quickly as she could up the stairway. She glanced about quickly as she reached the street, just in time to witness Anthony flying down the steps from the Mr. Barker's parlor. His eyes were wide in terror.

"Please! Where is she?" Clara's words escaped her as Anthony grasped her by the shoulders, panic evident in his voice. "Where is Johanna?"

"Johanna?" Clara's voice was but a quiet whisper. "I…"

"Upstairs…there's blood everywhere. You must tell me where to find her?" Anthony was white with fear, as was Clara.

There was not a clue in Clara's mind that could offer her the whereabouts of the poor child. Clara was unsure how much Johanna knew, and yet even the knowledge that a villainous man like Sweeney Todd was her father would be enough to break her gentle spirit, perhaps forever. Fresh tears cascaded down Clara's cheeks. Neither Johanna nor her conflicted father deserved such a fate. Soon she calmed herself enough to take hold of the situation.

"I am sure she's alright Anthony." She offered him an encouraging squeeze on the forearm. "We will find her."