Walking into 808 Broadway, Laszlo did his best not to feel too anxious about what he intended to ask Sara. He had called her the night before and explained that he would not be able to meet her at the morgue, but she had assured him that there would be images he could look at the following morning. Of course, he intended to help her as best as he could on the case, but a part of him was more concerned with the events from the night before.

As soon as they had gotten Charlotte back home, Elizabeth had not said a single word and Charlotte hadn't tried to talk. Laszlo could see that the anger inside of her seemed to have vanished. Instead, she watched Elizabeth retreat up the stairs and to their bedroom. Laszlo had watched Charlotte, trying to read the expression on her face. It was as close to remorseful as he had seen her look in a number of weeks, but she still said nothing.

Laszlo had told her that she should go and get some sleep and that they would talk the following day. She had trudged up the stairs, leaving Laszlo to thank Diana for looking after his daughters. She had been sat in the parlour, a book in her lap as she studied. She was almost drifting off to sleep, her eyes closing softly and slowly when Laszlo found her. She said nothing about what had happened, only asking if things were fine. Laszlo insisted that everything was well and she retired to her room, leaving him alone in the house to lock up.

He switched the lights out on his way up to bed, poking his head around Emily and Lucy's doors to make sure they were sleeping soundly. Once he had confirmed that they were fine, he went to his and Elizabeth's room, finding that his wife was already changed into her nightgown, her skirt and blouse discarded on the chair in the corner. She was laid on her side of the bed, covered up by the duvet with a hand stuffed under her pillow.

Laszlo had changed silently and climbed into bed next to her once he was in his pyjamas. He had said nothing, knowing that she didn't want to talk. She was clearly lost in her own thoughts. He simply moved an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head. He felt her pick his hand up and hold onto it tightly, pushing back against him as though to seek comfort from his touch. He sighed and closed his eyes, his warm breath tickling her neck as he wondered if sleep would come to them.

And they had slept. It had been fitful and Laszlo had been awake at the crack of dawn. Elizabeth was still breathing gently, eyes closed and hair mussed up on the pillow besides her. She looked exhausted and Laszlo could understand that. He left her to sleep and changed quietly, trying not to wake her.

He slipped out early, only seeing Diana as she prepared breakfast. He told her that he was going to 808, but wanted to leave Elizabeth to rest for a while longer. He knew that the streets would be quiet as nothing was open yet, but Laszlo knew Sara. He knew that she would be at work already. She hardly ever rested when there was a case.

And so he had walked to Broadway, not wanting to bother Stevie so early in the morning. Taking the stairs up towards Sara's office, Laszlo knocked on the main door, rapping against it with the head of his cane. He checked his pocket watch and saw that it had only just gone seven. Perhaps Sara had gone home to sleep? But that doubt he had was laid to rest when he heard footsteps approaching the door. He heard the turn of the lock and then saw Sara stood there in front of him.

"Laszlo, you gave me a fright," Sara said and he wondered if she had slept at work for her hair looked dishevelled, strands falling from the bun it was pulled back into. Her green checked skirt and black shirt also looked slightly creased and her eyes were tired, bags underneath them.

"I apologise," Laszlo said. "I should have called ahead."

Sara shook her head, gathering her breath and dropping the letter opener she had picked up back onto the table behind the door, realising that she had no need to fear an intruder. She stepped back and held the wooden pane open for Laszlo who stepped in.

"No, you just startled me, that's all," Sara promised him. "I hadn't expected to see you here this early. I trust you couldn't sleep?"

"You are correct," Laszlo sighed and she closed the door behind him once more, locking it for extra security.

"Come on, I just made a pot of coffee. You can tell me all about it over a strong cup," Sara said and he dutifully followed her through the rows of desks covered in papers towards her own office. Entering it, he removed his coat and hung it up on the rack in the corner before leaving his cane at the bottom of it too.

He undid the button to his suit jacket as he sat down, letting it fall open to reveal the dark green waistcoat he wore over his white shirt and patterned green tie. Sitting back, he watched Sara pour him a cup of coffee and place it in front of him as he nodded his thanks to her and she settled down in her own high back chair. She held the cup in her hands, her nimble fingers wrapping around the intricate patterned china.

"I was relieved to hear that you found Charlotte," Sara said to Laszlo.

"As were we," Laszlo said. He had called Sara before he had retired for bed after she had insisted he tell her that the girl was safe and sound. "We found her wandering around the park by the Institute. She claimed that she was just out for a walk, but we know that she was lying to us."

"But why?" Sara asked, unable to believe what had happened to make Charlotte act in such a way. She had always been so kind and compassionate when Sara had been with her. She had been sweet and charming. She had been growing into quite a charming young woman before something happened to her.

"We do not know," Laszlo said and he took a sip of his own coffee before placing the mug down, his fingers rubbing together and then sitting by his chin. "She won't tell us and we haven't been able to work it out and that is one of the reasons why I am here today, Sara. I need a favour."

"You want me to follow her?" Sara checked and Laszlo shook his head.

"Not you, but perhaps if one of your girls who she has not seen was able to follow her then we would appreciate it. We would pay you, of course, but we are running out of ideas as to what we can do to get through to her," Laszlo confessed and Sara placed her mug down onto the desk in front of her, the steam slowly rising up from the cup and into the air.

"You are not paying me for any of this," Sara said sternly to him. "But I can ask Mary to do it. She has just finished her recent case and she has time to do it. I don't think she has met Charlotte either."

"Thank you, Sara," Laszlo said, his voice earnest and sincere as he lowered his hand from his chin and rested it onto his thigh. "Anyway, I am here to talk to you about what is going on with this case you are working on. Tell me, what did you find?"

"You might want to consider skipping breakfast after seeing this," Sara said and she reached into her drawer. Pulling out a brown folder, she dropped it onto the desk and slid it across to Laszlo. He leant forwards and pulled it towards himself. Opening it up, his eyes scanned down onto the images beneath him and the report from the police that no doubt had been given to them by the Isaacson twins.

"It's identical to how Josephine was killed, but apart from that the two girls are different," Sara said. "This girl…her name is Jennifer Bradbury. She lived with her mother and father in Brooklyn. They've lived here all their lives. They aren't entirely well off, but they are comfortable with a nice house and a stable job. He's a baker. She also had a younger sister called Katherine."

"Josephine and Mary…do you think that they have met before? They come from different areas and have different backgrounds. The only similarity between their situation is that they have younger siblings, but is that a link or a coincidence?"

"I don't know," Sara confessed to him. "But I am going to the Bradbury residence when the hour becomes more reasonable to interview her parents to find out more. You are more than welcome to come with me, but I would understand if you have more pressing issues."

Laszlo looked concerned for a moment, reaching for his pocket watch and checking the time before placing it back into his waistcoat pocket. He knew that he should go back home to Elizabeth. She had enough on her plate with Charlotte being suspended and looking after Lucy and Emily with Diana. Plus, there was the fact that Diana was taking that afternoon away from work to meet up with a friend. Elizabeth hadn't felt it right to ask her to stay later than necessary. She deserved to have a life of her own. Elizabeth felt guilty for relying on her so much.

"I have an hour, but I must return home soon after that," Laszlo said.

"Excellent," Sara responded. "And Elizabeth? How is she coping? She puts on a brave face, but I like to think that I know her better than that."

"And you do," Laszlo said, taking another sip of coffee. "She is coping, but only just. Charlotte's behaviour is tearing her apart because she thought that she had a closer bond with her than is currently proving to be the case. I don't know what more I can do or what more I can suggest."

"You're doing everything you can, Laszlo," Sara promised him in a gentle voice before standing up and smoothing her skirts down. She grabbed hold of her notebook and pen, forcing it into her bag as Laszlo took that as a sign that they would be leaving soon enough. "Elizabeth had a close bond with Charlotte. The two of them were inseparable until recently…like what I imagine a mother and daughter bond to look like."

"She thinks of her as her own daughter. We both do," Laszlo said and stood on his feet. "And that is why this is increasingly difficult for both of us and we appreciate your help, Sara. Of course, your discretion would be beneficial too."

"Of course," Sara promised him. She had no intention of telling anyone of what was going on in their lives. It was not truly anyone else's business. She reached for her own coat as Laszlo grabbed hold of his, shrugging into it and reaching for his cane. "Now, let's go and speak with Mr and Mrs Bradbury, shall we?"

"Let's," Laszlo agreed and prepared to immerse himself in the case for another hour.

…

Standing by the net curtain in the parlour, Elizabeth peered onto the street as she held Emily in her arms. Her daughter had drifted off to sleep as she rocked her back and forth in her grip, her gaze set on the quiet sidewalk outside. The sun was beating down, casting shadows through the pattern of the net curtain on the floor. Elizabeth looked down onto Emily as she continued sleeping, wondering what it was the little girl dreamt of.

"Mrs Kreizler, I've prepared dinner for this evening," Diana's voice entered the room and Elizabeth watched her pull her hair from under her coat collar, letting it fall down her back in a neat plait before she tugged it over her shoulder to rest down her chest. "I should be back in time to cook it this evening."

"You don't need to worry about that, Diana," Elizabeth promised her. "And just call me Elizabeth. How many times do I need to tell you?" she asked with a teasing tone to her voice that the woman picked up on and let her own lips arch upwards as she nodded her head once at hearing her.

"I know," Diana said to her and buttoned up the front of her light coat to protect her from the soft breeze outside. "Anyway, I will see you later on this afternoon."

"Have a nice time with your friend," Elizabeth said and Diana's cheeks almost warmed up. She didn't want to tell Elizabeth that she was meeting Michael, the young lawyer she had been sneaking into her room and in turn she would sneak into his room whenever she had chance. That was, of course, when she wasn't studying to become a doctor courtesy of Laszlo's generous offer to pay for her tuition.

Elizabeth moved to rest Emily in the basket Laszlo had brought down from the nursery, finding that it was more useful downstairs than upstairs. She left her daughter to sleep before moving over to where Lucy sat on the couch, a book in her fingertips and her eyes set down onto it. Flopping back on the seat, Elizabeth heard the front door shut, signalling Diana's leave.

"And what are you reading, darling?" Elizabeth wondered from her daughter, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder so that she could see her clearer. She was dressed in a soft yellow dress with a white sash around the middle. Her hair was dangling in loose curls and Elizabeth swore she saw Laszlo when she looked up to her. It was rather unnerving sometimes, how alike the two of them were.

"Daddy bought me it when we went to the store," Lucy said to her mother, looking up at her with wide eyes and Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the sight of her gap toothed expression.

"The Princess and the Pea," Elizabeth said as her daughter closed the book to show her the cover. "And how are you finding it?"

"Good," Lucy confirmed. "Daddy said that you looked beautiful…like a princess…"

"Did he really?" Elizabeth asked, an entertaining tone to her voice as she continued to run her fingers down her daughter's hair, brushing it softly in between her fingertips. "Well, your daddy is quite charming."

"I don't want to be a princess," Lucy declared and Elizabeth's lips arched as she heard her daughter speak, wondering just what went on in the little girl's mind. She found it fascinating, oftentimes unable to comprehend what it was she thought or how she perceived the world.

"Do you not?" Elizabeth asked.

"I want to be like daddy," Lucy declared and Elizabeth thought that she might let her smile falter, not entirely keen on the idea of her daughter running after murderers. "I want to play the piano."

Oh. Elizabeth kept her smile in place at hearing that, slightly relieved. Then again, Lucy didn't know what it was Laszlo truly did when he worked on cases, only that he was a doctor who helped children get better. She was still far too young to know anything other than that.

"Well, if you want to play the piano then you can," Elizabeth promised her daughter. "You can do anything that you want," she promised with a squeeze of her daughter's nose that caused her to giggle. Except for chase after serial killers for the sanity of your mother, please, Elizabeth thought in her mind.

"Really?" Lucy asked.

"Really," Elizabeth promised her.

She spent the next hour with Lucy, reading more books with her and helping her with the words that she stumbled over. Lucy soon found herself tiring however, and Elizabeth told her just to take a nap on the couch, fluffing up the pillow for her and letting her lay down. She covered her in a blanket before checking on Emily and seeing that her small fist had clenched by her cheek and her other hand lay by her side.

Elizabeth sighed and left the two of them to sleep in the parlour, moving up the stairs and knowing that she should check on Charlotte. She had come downstairs for breakfast before retreating upstairs again and back into hiding. Elizabeth poked her head around the door after knocking once but receiving no answer. Looking into the room, she saw that Charlotte was laid on her bed and clearly sleeping again. Sighing, Elizabeth left her alone and headed back downstairs to see the door open, Laszlo walking in and leaving his cane by the sideboard and removing his coat.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Laszlo said to his wife. "I had intended on only being gone an hour to help Sara interview the parents of the murdered girl, but then Jane called 808 and said that she needed help at the Institute."

"I know," Elizabeth promised him, coming to the bottom step and standing on it, holding the bannister as Laszlo ran a hand over his beard covered chin. "She had called here and asked where you were. I told her to try 808."

"I would have come home sooner," Laszlo promised her.

"It's fine," Elizabeth assured him with a soft smile in his direction as he stood before her. She was about the same height as he was stood on that bottom step. She moved to rest her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them tightly and feeling the tension in his posture. "Anyway, I had Stevie remove the trellis from outside of Charlotte's room this morning. She didn't complain or say anything, so that's good, I suppose, we didn't end up in another argument at least."

"One bright side of today," Laszlo said and Elizabeth could hear the dejection in his voice. He was down. No doubt that the events over the past couple of weeks and the case were taking their toll on him. Elizabeth wasn't surprised. It was a lot for anyone to go through.

"Well, I have another bright side," Elizabeth said, wanting to find a way to cheer him up somehow. She continued squeezing his shoulders as she spoke and she felt his arm wrap around her waist, drawing her closer against his front. "Lucy said that she wants to grow up to be exactly like her father."

His eyes did seem to light up at hearing that piece of information. She continued to smile at him as his own lips quirked and he chuckled deeply, the vibrations from his chest causing her to shudder slightly against him.

"Did she really?"

"Yes, she said she wants to play the piano exactly like you," Elizabeth said and she took the step off the staircase, slipping down Laszlo's body as she moved and ran her hands up his neck, holding onto his cheeks. "I admit that I did have a slight panic attack at the idea of her running off to Vienna and chasing murderers, but thankfully she only meant that she wants to play the piano."

Laszlo chuckled once again, eyes closing for a second as he bent down to kiss his wife on the forehead chastely before standing up once more.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said.

"I'm sure you are," Elizabeth said. "So, come on, I'll pour us a drink and we can sit in the kitchen while the girls nap and you can tell me all about your day."

"There isn't much to tell," Laszlo confessed, moving with Elizabeth by his side, her hand slipping down his arm to hold onto his fingers, enveloping them inside of her own. "Interviewing Mr and Mrs Bradbury proved to be fruitless. They claimed that their daughter was doing well at school. They said she had numerous friends. There was no strange behaviour before her death…no acting odd…just that she was a happy girl with no problems."

"How odd," Elizabeth whispered as they moved through to the kitchen and she found the hidden bottle of bourbon. Ever since they'd had children, they had moved the alcohol into the kitchen after finding Lucy holding the bottle and pulling the lid off a bottle of whiskey from the drinks cart in the parlour.

"It was," Laszlo said and settled down on a wooden chair, sinking back into it. His feet ached after running around all day and hardly having any sleep from the night before. "Both of these murders are clearly linked. The same murderer killed both girls…but both of the girls are so different. They lived different lives. The only connection and similarity is that they had younger siblings."

"Do you think that could play a part in it?" Elizabeth asked from her husband and handed him a small glass of bourbon that he downed in one. Elizabeth refilled the glass before sitting across from him at the small wooden table, nursing her own tumbler in her fingertips. She sat back and folded one leg over the other.

"I don't know," Laszlo confessed. "It seems a rather tenuous link and perhaps it is merely a coincidence. The fact that she cuts off their fingers and scalps them has to mean something, however."

"You said she," Elizabeth pointed out. "Do you think that the killer could be a woman?"

"Of that, I am still uncertain," Laszlo admitted to his wife. "I remember how Sara challenged me on my beliefs that a woman could not commit such heinous acts when we were working on our first case together. I saw that I was wrong eventually."

"So why do you think that this is a woman?"

"Call it a suspicion that I intend to investigate," Laszlo said to his wife. "But I need to do a lot of reading before we reach that stage."

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself," Elizabeth encouraged from him, sipping on the drink and then placing the glass down onto the table next to her as she leant forwards, clasping her hands together in her lap as she bent slightly at the waist. "I know how you can be when there is a case."

"I know," Laszlo said, but he didn't know how not to put too much pressure on himself. "And I wish that this case was not happening right now, my darling. I know that it is not the right time for me to be away working and that is why I have been thinking that I should postpone my return to Vienna in a few month's time."

"You can't," Elizabeth said firmly, shaking her head back and forth. She stood up and reached for the bottle of bourbon, filling her glass up once more and topping up Laszlo's. "You love your work in Vienna, Laszlo. You can't postpone it. Besides, they need you out there."

"Just as you need me here," Laszlo retorted, not wanting to back down on this matter. He refused to leave his wife by herself. It wasn't the kind of man he was. "My family is more important than my position in Vienna."

"We will manage, Laszlo," Elizabeth said to him, sitting back on the edge of her chair, perching there and tossing her hair behind her shoulders with one hand. "You will only be gone for a few months again and we have managed before."

"Perhaps so," he agreed with her on that point. He knew that she could cope. "But perhaps it is I who cannot manage being away, Elizabeth. I need to be here to see Emily and Lucy grow up. I need to be here to help Charlotte work through whatever it is she has to work through. I need to be here because I cannot stand the thought of leaving you at this moment in time."

A sad smile formed on Elizabeth's face at hearing him speak in such a manner. She doubted she would ever get tired of hearing him speak so honestly. Her husband was usually such a proper man who kept his emotions under check when out in public, but in the privacy of their own home, he wasn't afraid to show who he was.

"Only if you're certain," Elizabeth said to him and he sipped on his drink before placing the glass down and holding his hand out on the table towards her. She took hold of it and felt his thumb run over her knuckles as he picked her hand up and kissed the back of it softly.

"I'm certain," he promised her, squeezing her fingers.

"Daddy!"

Laszlo barely had time to register what was happening as Lucy ran into the room, launching herself onto his lap. He chuckled as he reacted quickly, snatching his hand from Elizabeth's in time to wrap his arm around Lucy to stop her from falling to the floor from his knee.

"When did you get home?" she asked him, her small hands holding onto his arm that he had secured around her. She looked up to him as he watched her for a few moments, his chest aching at the feeling of holding her so close. He doubted he would ever tire of this feeling. He loved it more than he could care to say.

"Only a few minutes ago," he decided on saying to his daughter. "You were asleep."

"I was tired, but now I'm not," she declared and Elizabeth chuckled. "Will you come and play the piano with me?"

"Just give me a minute to finish my drink and I'll be there," he promised her and she beamed in excitement before climbing off of his lap and scurrying away. Elizabeth continued laughing at the sight of her, finishing off her drink and motioning in their retreating daughter's direction with the empty glass.

"You shouldn't keep her waiting long. She's impatient and will only come and find you again," Elizabeth said and Laszlo's lips curved upwards at hearing that. Nodding his head, he agreed with his wife and finished his drink too.

"I wonder where she gets her impatience from," Laszlo stood up and Elizabeth remained seated as he bent over her, his lips nearing hers as he teased her.

"I don't think it's me," she whispered, her warm breath hitting his cheek. "I think it must be her father."

"Must be," Laszlo agreed weakly before kissing her softly.

Moving her fingers into his hair, she brushed it back from his forehead as he let his hand curve along her shoulder, running down her arm to her elbow. He was about to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue move over her lips to seek access, but she pulled back, a glimmer in her eye.

"We can't get too carried away," she warned him. "I don't want you to start something you can't finish."

"Is that a challenge, dear wife?"

"Consider it a challenge you can accept this evening," she said and Laszlo bent down one final time to give her a soft lingering kiss.

"Tease," he complained before standing straight and feeling her squeeze his arm before he turned and left her in the kitchen to find Lucy.

Elizabeth continued to smile at the sight of his back, wondering if she could stay in that moment for a while longer. It wasn't often the two of them were playful, especially in recent times. It turned out that they had nothing to be playful about, not truly since they had gone through troubled times with Charlotte. Elizabeth bit down on her bottom lip and chuckled to herself once more, shaking her head and then moving to stand up.

Heading out towards the hallway, she could hear Laszlo talking with Lucy at the piano and she moved into the parlour to find that Emily was sat in his lap too on the piano bench. She stood in the doorway, leaving the three of them to it before she heard the post in the letterbox.

Moving over to the door, she crouched down and looked at the letters. As usual, the majority of them were for Laszlo, no doubt concerning business at the Institute. She left them on the sideboard before noticing a letter addressed to both of them. Reaching for the letter opener in the drawer beneath the sideboard, she pulled it out and slid it along the flap at the same time there was a knock on the door.

Holding the open letter in her hand, she went to pull the wooden door open after seeing the silhouette through the glass. Marcus Isaacson stood there, his hat in his hands and a smile on his face.

"I thought I'd come by and surprise you," he declared.

"Surprise or annoy?" she teased him and he placed a hand to his chest, feigning mock pain as Elizabeth moved to embrace him.

"A man can only take so much pain, Elizabeth," he said, joining in on the teasing as she pulled back and pecked him on the cheek and looked him in the eye. "It was bad enough you chose your brooding doctor over this handsome scientist."

"I can only apologise to the ladies of New York who you continue to pester," Elizabeth said to him.

"Oh, they're very thankful, trust me," he replied and Elizabeth playfully swatted his arm gently.

"Come on you," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'll make us a drink, but we might have to take it to the courtyard because Laszlo is currently with Lucy playing the piano as I'm sure you can hear."

"Courtyard sounds good," Marcus said.

Elizabeth led him through the parlour so that he could briefly say hello to Laszlo and the girls before they moved into the kitchen. She asked if he wanted tea or something a bit stronger. He opted for the latter. Picking up two fresh glasses, Elizabeth held them in one hand and carried the whiskey in her other hand. She stuffed the letter into the pocket of her skirt. They went through the back door to the courtyard, the sun hiding behind the clouds and causing a slight chill, but nothing too bad. They sat on the bench in the corner by the ivy-covered wall. Sipping on their drinks, Elizabeth leant back and looked to Marcus.

"So, how is it being back in New York?" Elizabeth asked from him.

"You know, busy…tiring…I think I've only had about six hours sleep a night since I got back. This case Sara is working on has consumed us," Marcus confessed to her. "I had wanted to come around sooner and see how you were doing."

"I understand," she assured him. "Besides, I should have suggested meeting up sooner, but things have been so hectic here that I just haven't had chance."

"I know," Marcus promised her. "Well, I don't know…I just know that Sara said that you were going through a hard time at home, but she didn't elaborate. She said it wasn't her place to tell your business."

Elizabeth felt a sense of friendship at hearing that. There was no denying that Sara was such a good friend to them. She always had their back. She always looked out for them and Elizabeth wondered if she always showed how much she appreciated her doing that for them.

"Well, you're one of my closest friends so I want to tell you, but you have to promise me that it goes no further," Elizabeth said and he held his glass up to her. She clinked hers against it as he continued to look her in the eye.

"Promise," he said.

She nodded and took a sip before recounting everything that had happened with Charlotte. Marcus listened in disbelief, only interjecting occasionally to ask questions, but he had to admit that he didn't know what more he could do or what more he could say. He had no advice to offer for he didn't truly understand children, but he did all that he could to offer comfort. He assured Elizabeth that it was nothing she had done to make Charlotte like this. He had placed a hand on her arm when he had seen she was about to cry.

And then Elizabeth had insisted on him telling her all about his time in D.C. He did so with vigour, recounting numerous tales and cases before Laszlo came outside and found the two of them. He said that Diana had returned and was looking after the girls, wanting to check on how Marcus was doing. Elizabeth knew that was his way of finding out if there had been any further news on the case, but he was trying to be polite first.

"Elizabeth."

Looking up and over to the back door, Elizabeth saw that Charlotte was stood there, arms folded over her waist. The three of them looked towards her and wondered what was wrong considering she barely spoke to them these days. Elizabeth stood from the bench, leaving her glass as Laszlo took it from her to hold it. She exchanged a look with him and he nodded once, ensuring that she was fine. She nodded back as she passed by and headed towards the back door.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked, her tone cold as she tried not to sound too curt.

"I can't find the towels and I…well…" Charlotte trailed off and Elizabeth knew what she was telling her.

"Do you have stomach cramps?" Elizabeth asked from her, knowing just how horrible periods could be.

"Yes," Charlotte confessed.

"Then I will make you a hot cup of tea and you should go and rest…try and stay warm. I'll fetch you the towels first. I think I took them out of the bathroom cabinet and put them in one of my drawers."

Charlotte nodded once. Elizabeth moved into the house and Charlotte followed her. Diana was playing with the girls in the parlour still as they climbed the steps up and towards her bedroom. Charlotte stood in the doorway, looking around the room as Elizabeth rummaged around in her top drawer in the dresser. Laszlo's books were stood in a bookshelf in the corner after Elizabeth had insisted on them being somewhere tidy considering he always brought books up to bed to read and usually left them there until he needed them again.

"Here we go," Elizabeth said and she pulled out a vanity box that she kept the towels in and handed them over to Charlotte.

"Thank you," the girl said to her.

"You go and change if you want to," Elizabeth said to her.

"I…my underwear…" Charlotte trailed off.

"I will sort it," Elizabeth promised her. "Just change your clothes and I will wash it and clean them. Go to the bathroom and do that and I'll make you a cup of tea and bring it back up."

Charlotte nodded and Elizabeth left her to change. She headed back downstairs and began to boil the kettle on the stove, Laszlo coming to her when he saw her through the back door.

"Is everything alright?" he checked with his wife.

"She's just not feeling too well," Elizabeth informed her husband.

"Does she need a doctor?" Laszlo queried.

"No, it's just her monthly visitor," Elizabeth said and Laszlo let out a soft 'ah' at hearing that. He knew how some men claimed women were exaggerating when they spoke of their pain during their monthly periods, but he was a man of science and he knew exactly that there was no exaggeration. He had been with Elizabeth when she had complained of cramps and had done anything he could to help her relieve them. Jacob, her former husband, had always told her to pull herself together and would hardly have any sympathy. Laszlo, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He was hardly squeamish around the topic, nor did he insist she hide her discomfort from him. She loved him dearly for that.

"I'm making her some tea and going to take her the blanket from the bottom of our bed. It's heavier so she'll be warmer," Elizabeth explained to him as she took hold of a cup and set it down, waiting for the kettle to boil. "I'll just tell Marcus that I need to be with Charlotte for a while."

"As you wish," Laszlo said to his wife and pecked her on the cheek.

She went outside while waiting for the kettle to boil, informing Marcus that Charlotte was not feeling too well and she would therefore spend some time with her. He said that he had to leave anyway, bidding them all a goodbye as Laszlo walked him out while Elizabeth made the tea. She passed by her husband on the way with the cup upstairs, smiling to him and heading to Charlotte's room, diverting into her own room to pick up the blanket on her way.

"I made tea and there is a blanket," Elizabeth said, settling the tea down on the bedside table. Charlotte was sat up in bed, legs pulled up to her chest to try and alleviate some of the pain. "It's quite heavy and thick so it should warm you up quickly. Laszlo detests it because he claims it's too thick…says he can't sleep at night…but it does a good job."

"Thank you," Charlotte said as Elizabeth draped the blanket over her.

Charlotte began to wonder how she could be showing her so much care and affection after how she had treated her. And Charlotte felt guilty for that. She reached for the cup and took a sip of tea as Elizabeth smoothed her skirts out, feeling the letter that she had stuffed there. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, holding it in her fingertips.

"Do you want anything else?" Elizabeth asked from her.

"No…I'll be fine," Charlotte said.

"Well, it might be best if you try and get some sleep. That can sometimes help with the pain," Elizabeth said to her. "I always found that to be the case anyway."

"I'll try," Charlotte said and Elizabeth nodded, her face seemingly impassive and the atmosphere between the two of them awkward. Elizabeth sniffed once and nodded, looking around the room as she felt Charlotte staring at her, but she didn't know if she could meet her gaze just yet. She felt that if she did then she might cry because this was the most conversation they had had in weeks without Charlotte yelling or an argument ensuing.

"I should go and prepare dinner," Elizabeth said. "Diana shouldn't have to do it on her afternoon off. "If you're still feeling ill then I can bring you something upstairs if you don't feel like dining with us."

"Stop it," Charlotte suddenly said to Elizabeth as her hands held tightly onto the letter in her grip, almost threatening to tear it in her fingertips. Elizabeth finally looked to Charlotte, but the young woman had turned her gaze onto her mattress, her eyes downcast and her arms still tight around her legs.

"Stop what?" Elizabeth wondered, voice terse once more.

"Being nice to me," Charlotte said, closing her eyes and burrowing her cheek onto her kneecaps.

"Why should I?" Elizabeth asked from her. "You're still my adopted daughter, aren't you? You're still my Charlotte…the little girl who I helped to raise…you're still her and I know that. I just don't know what is going on with you and I want you to tell me, but for some reason you won't. You keep shutting me out and I'm not going to push you anymore because all it does is end in argument and you yelling at me. I don't want to do that anymore."

Charlotte said nothing to that and Elizabeth sighed softly, shaking her head back and forth, trying to work out just what it was she was thinking. But it was impossible.

"Get some rest," Elizabeth opted to say and she turned on her heel to leave the room. She picked the letter up so that she could look down onto it and read it. Closing the door, she didn't let it shut completely as she froze, eyes fixed on the words beneath her.

Charlotte looked to the door, seeing Elizabeth still holding the handle with one hand while her other hand held the letter. She was frozen on the spot, almost as though she was unable to move. Charlotte frowned, wondering just what was going on. She picked her head up and began to uncurl from her position on the bed, standing up and letting the skirts of her comfortable blue dress fall to her ankles.

"Elizabeth?" Charlotte questioned. "What is it?"

"I…I don't know," Elizabeth said and Charlotte heard the confusion in her voice. But, above all, she heard the fear in her voice. "I…Laszlo…"

She spoke his name, but it was hardly loud enough for him to hear. Moving to stand next to Elizabeth, Charlotte shouted louder for her.

"Laszlo!"

"This has to be a joke…some kind of sick joke," Elizabeth said as she looked at the letter and Charlotte's eyes scanned over it. But she didn't need to read it to know who had sent it. It was her mother's scrawl. She had a letter from her hidden in her own dresser.

"Whatever is the matter?" Laszlo's voice carried up the stairs as he moved up them and towards the two women who were stood there. Looking between them, he saw his wife's face and he knew that expression. He had hoped never to see it again in his life.

"Elizabeth, what is it?" Laszlo asked, his voice growing concerned as he approached them and took hold of his wife's arm gently, snapping her from the daze that she was in. She shook her head and handed him the letter, barely giving Charlotte anytime to finish reading it. But she had gotten the general idea of what it was saying.

"It came this morning for both of us, but I only just opened it," Elizabeth said to her husband. "It's someone's idea of a sick joke, surely? What else could it be?"

Laszlo looked down onto it and his eyes scanned the letter as Charlotte bit down on her tongue and looked over the bannister and to the ground, closing her eyes for a moment and remembering how Mary had tumbled to her death in that position. She shuddered and looked back to Laszlo as he continued to let his eyes move across the words on the letter.

"I don't know who could have written this," Laszlo admitted to his wife.

"Whoever it was…they think they know what we did…the accusations in there are disgusting."

"Indeed they are," Laszlo agreed with her on that point.

"Do you think it is linked to the case you are working on? Or perhaps someone disgruntled with work that you are doing at the Institute?"

"I don't know," Laszlo repeated, his mind racing. "But I can try and compare the handwriting with that of documents signed by patients at the Institute and I can also bring in an expert to take a look. We might be able to find out more if we decipher it."

Elizabeth shook her head as Charlotte remained stood next to her. "It's been months since anything like this has happened, Laszlo," his wife said. "Nothing like this has happened in such a long time and now you are working a case we get a letter calling me a whore and accusing me of using the Institute to try and find a child because I was scared I would be unable to have my own after a miscarriage…saying that you seduced me and promised me a life where you would give me a child…that you could take one from the Institute. Who would write such a thing?"

"I will do everything that I can to find out," Laszlo promised and Elizabeth shook her head, running a hand along her forehead and feeling a headache coming on. She tried not to let her mind run away with her, but she was finding it to be quite difficult. She looked to Laszlo and knew that her snapping would not help him. This was not his fault.

"Why is it as soon as you begin to work a case this happens?" she snapped at him. "Have we not suffered enough?"

"Elizabeth, please," Laszlo tried to plead with his wife as she took the letter from him and looked over it again, shaking her head in disbelief and dropping it to the floor.

"Why does this happen? Why does this always happen whenever you work a case?"

"Elizabeth, please calm down," Laszlo urged from her, following her as she moved down the staircase and he pleaded with her to stop.

Charlotte remained stood where she was, not wanting to move down the staircase and follow them. Instead, she bent down and picked up the letter. She looked down onto it and wondered just what her mother had done, fear taking hold of her that things were slowly becoming more volatile. She just didn't know how volatile they could become.

…

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone for reading. Would love to know your thoughts and anything you want to see – I'm open to requests!