Dr. Clarkson sat in his office that afternoon, lost in his thoughts. Mrs. Crawley's hasty exit had left him and the rest of his staff deeply disturbed. All he thought he could do was hope, just hope that she would be okay. She just needed to be alone. Isn't that what you are supposed to do for grieving people? Give them space. A nurse interrupted his thoughts, announcing the arrival of Lord and Lady Grantham.

"Doctor Clarkson what an awful business," Robert began, "it can't possibly be true." Lord Grantham was dumbstruck, his mouth agape. To lose two heirs so tragically in one lifetime seemed impossible. He had to sit down.

"I'm afraid it is, my lord, though I wish it wasn't." His hand stroked his beard.

"Has Lady Mary been informed?" Robert inquired; his thoughts immediately went to his daughter, the young woman who had just given birth.

"No, not yet. The nurse informed me that Lady Mary had just awakened. I was going in there now," Clarkson replied, unsure how to tell the new mother that her child's father lay dead.

Lord Grantham stopped Doctor Clarkson, a hand rested on his arm. "Let me. She needs to hear this from family."

Cora watched the exchange between the two men. As much as her mind thought of her daughter in this moment, she knew there was one other person who would be broken by this news. She cleared her throat and interrupted the men. "What about Cousin Isobel?" Cora asked, her heart breaking for the other mother. Cora knew what it was to lose a child; she would wish it on no one. "Has she been informed?"

"Yes, your ladyship. I told her first," Doctor Clarkson replied.

"And? Where is she now?" Cora wondered if Isobel was at the hospital, perhaps, resting in some private room, away from it all. Someone needed to be with her, if only to comfort her.

"She went back to Crawley House. She did not want to stay here," Doctor Clarkson muttered, thinking perhaps letting her go was not the best course of action.

"Alone?" Cora was shocked that Isobel had left. Wouldn't she need family right now? "Someone should go check on her. Someone should be with her," Cora determined. "After all," she looked at Robert knowingly, "grief can make one say and do such terrible, terrible things." Much was said with their eyes as husband and wife remembered the problems they faced after Sybil's death.

"I'll go," Robert announced, "After all, Matthew was like a son to me."

"No," Cora asserted, placing a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder, "I will. She needs someone who will understand. Someone who knows what it's like to be a mother without her baby." Cora choked up, and Robert wiped a tear away that had slid down her cheek. "I will go to Crawley House first thing in the morning, but, for now, let's go to Mary. Our daughter needs us." The couple walked arm in arm into Lady Mary's room and softly closed the door behind him.

Doctor Clarkson stood there in the middle of the hospital with his hand over his mouth. What had he just done? Why did he let her go? He returned to his office, unsure of how to fix anything anymore.

…

Isobel did not sleep that night. Her mind plagued with harsh thoughts and what ifs. Grief does that, even to the strongest of people. What if Matthew had just phoned the Abbey? Would he still be here? Why didn't I go instead, allow him time to be with his son? Why take my Matthew and not me? Could anything have been done differently?

She had sat in almost every chair in the house, traveling from room to room. No matter where she went she could not escape this extraordinary chasm that had opened up within her.

She was in her bedroom, looking at a picture of her son that sat on her nightstand. His smile gazed at her. Perhaps, if she willed it hard enough, he would still be here. If she stared at the image any longer, she would break. She placed the frame face down.

She thought about getting dressed. She wore her lavender nightdress with a robe over it. Her hair tumbled down, slightly longer than shoulder length. She decided against it. What did it matter if she stayed in her house robe all day? Who would come and see her?

She stared at herself in the mirror. She was a shell of her former self. Her face was tear-stained; her eyes terribly red. She supposed her appearance matched her newfound role: a childless widow. A drudge, she determined, who no longer served any purpose.

The doorbell awakened her from her thoughts. Who could possibly be calling at this hour of the morning? The sun had barely been up. It could not be any of the Crawleys; they would not be up for hours. Perhaps, it is the gardener, coming early to tend the plants and finding no servants to let him in to get his tools. Let him ring, she thought, I will not answer it.

The sound of the buzzer became more persistent, followed by a few knocks. Will he not just leave, she wanted to shout. She tied up her robe and headed downstairs, determined to dismiss him as well. Could everyone just leave her alone? That's what she wanted. Was it too much to ask?

She opened her door. Much to Isobel's surprise, Lady Grantham stood at her door.

Cora was taken aback by Isobel's appearance. She had never seen the woman look anything but put together, anything but in control. But now, she was still in her night clothes and looked dreadful. Cora was shocked; the light from Isobel's eyes had gone. To Cora, the pain that Isobel had to be feeling was all too familiar.

"Cousin Cora…" Isobel began, but then corrected herself. What right have you to call her "cousin" anymore? You are only here because Matthew is…was…the heir. Isobel straightened up then continued, "Lady Grantham, as you can see, I am in no mood to entertain anyone." Isobel moved to shut the door, but was stopped as Cora quickly slipped inside her doorway.

"Cousin Isobel, please, it's not good to be alone now," Cora reasoned with her, already making her way through to Isobel's sitting room. The state of the room astonished Lady Grantham, but she made no fuss. A huge vase had been shattered; the floor remained wet, and broken glass had yet to be cleaned up. Cora guessed what happened, but tried to pay it no notice. She sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to her, motioning for Isobel to join her. "I don't want you to be alone. Matthew would not want that," she said.

Isobel remained standing, but the mention of her son's name almost caused her to drop to her knees again. She would not falter, not in front of Lady Grantham.

Cora knew that Isobel was a stubborn woman, firm in her beliefs and unwavering in her determination. It hurt Cora to see Isobel in this state.

Seeing that Isobel would not join her, Cora started, "Cousin Isobel, I only want to help, like you helped me after Sybil. I know nothing I say or do at the moment can make the pain go away, but I would like to be here, even if my presence is only as one who understands. And, I do, I understand." She tried to meet Isobel's eyes, but the woman continued to stare past her. Cora thought that if she opened up about her own loss, then maybe Isobel would not feel so alone. Lady Grantham searched for the words and then began, "When Sybil died, I didn't know what to do or feel. I…"

Isobel cut her off. "Let's not compare grief," she snapped. Her eyes focused on Cora.

"I only meant that I understand what you are going through. I know what it is to lose a child," Cora uttered; her voice breaking at this point.

This conversation was too much for Isobel. "I'm sorry Lady Grantham, but you don't," Isobel said coldly. "You have no idea what it is that I am going through. You still have two daughters who love you, who can comfort you, who will be there for you. You can watch them, laugh with them, talk to them. You still have your husband who will always be there for you." Isobel hated to admit that she was jealous, but she was at this point in time. "My only child is dead. My husband is dead. I have no one. I have outlived everyone who has ever meant anything to me." Tears pooled at Isobel's eyes. Here we go again, Isobel thought, but then willed herself not to let them spill. "I am alone."

"What about your grandson?" Cora asked. "Don't you think he needs you?" She desperately hoped she could reach Isobel in some way.

"Poor little chap," Isobel muttered. "Fatherless and with a mother who will be too grief-stricken to manage. A grandmother who no longer feels anymore. I suppose you and Lord Grantham will have to be the dominant forces in his life; he'll grow up at the Abbey anyway, away from me." Isobel shrugged her shoulders, coming to sit in one of her chairs opposite Cora.

"Cousin Isobel, please don't say that," Cora pleaded. "You are his grandmother, just as much as I. He'll need you." Cora wrung her hands, deeply upset that Isobel felt this way. "Is there anything…anything I could say or do to help? Please tell me if there is." A few tears escaped from Cora's eyes.

"Make yesterday go away," Isobel answered solemnly. "Before yesterday, I knew who I was. Before yesterday, I was someone's mother. Before yesterday, my Matthew was alive and happy, and I was me." Isobel met Cora's eyes, looking at her squarely. "Can you do that? Make yesterday disappear."

"No," Cora whispered. She could not return Isobel's gaze. Isobel stood and walked out of the room, leaving Cora alone with her thoughts.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Isobel would not answer it. Cora picked it up instead. "Hello, Crawley House," she answered.

"Lady Grantham?" It was Doctor Clarkson. Thank goodness it was Cora and not Isobel. Doctor Clarkson did not know how to tell Isobel she could finally see her son.

"Yes," Cora replied, "Can I help you, Doctor Clarkson?"

"I phoned to tell Isobel that she can view Matthew now. He's at Graspey's, the funeral parlor."

"Thank you. I'll have a car brought around to fetch her this afternoon," Cora informed the doctor and then hung up.

Isobel stood in the doorway, listening to Cora's end of the discussion. "You can see him now," Cora gently informed her, "I'll send a car for you."

Isobel nodded her head and then motioned towards her front door. "Very well, now if you could please go. I'm sorry, but I'm not much in the mood for company."

Cora did not know what else to say or do. She headed towards the door then turned, "I…I don't want to leave you alone," Cora reiterated.

"Go," Isobel said, "I'll be fine. I promise I won't do anything rash or foolish. I'll be fine. You can go."

"Very well," Cora uttered as Isobel closed the door behind her.

Isobel leaned against the door, threatening to slide down it and sink into the floor. Why can't I just fall asleep? I just want to sleep and forget the world. The sobs had returned; the unsteady breaths and shakes reappeared. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Give me oblivion.