Reaching for the phone as soon as they returned home, Elizabeth quickly asked for 808 Broadway. Laszlo closed the door, seeing his wife's frantic expression on her face. He had persuaded her to return home after they had searched for Charlotte, but they couldn't find her anywhere. Elizabeth had found herself struggling to comprehend losing their daughter, unable to understand what Charlotte had said to them earlier on in the day. There was no chance that the woman who had talked to Charlotte was her mother. Elizabeth was certain of that. Her mother had died. Whoever this woman was, she was nothing but a liar.
The rain had begun to pour while they had been out and Laszlo shrugged out of his wet coat, hanging it up on the rack as he looked to Elizabeth once more, seeing the water droplets dripping down her cheeks and onto her chest, her skirts clinging to her legs and her hair sticking to her face.
"God damn-it!" Elizabeth roared, slamming the phone down when it became apparent that no one was going to answer the call. She picked it up once more and asked for Sara's home, needing to get in touch with Mary. Was the woman still following Charlotte? Would she be able to tell them where she had gotten to?
"Elizabeth, let me try and get hold of Sara. You need to wash your hands, you're still bleeding," Laszlo said, seeing the blood gathering on his wife's palms, but she shook her head as she kept the phone tightly to her ear.
"I don't care," Elizabeth responded to him as she tapped her foot nervously and Laszlo could see she was shaking, no doubt from fear, the cold and shock. He sighed and shook his head.
"Well, I do," he retorted. "The last thing that I want for it to become infected."
But she was ignoring him completely once Sara picked up the phone. "Sara, it's me, Elizabeth. I need to know if you have heard from Mary…the investigator you sent to track Charlotte?"
There was silence as she let Sara answer and Laszlo studied her face intently.
"No…she's gone missing. We need to speak to Mary now, Sara…please…we don't know where she's gone but she said there was a woman who claimed to be her mother. We think she's manipulated her and we need to get her back. I don't know where she is or what…" Elizabeth trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. Laszlo moved towards her and placed a hand to the small of her back as she nodded her head and managed to speak in between her hard breaths and her clenching throat.
"Yes, we'll be there."
She hung up and looked to Laszlo, unable to meet his gaze. "She said she will call Mary and she wants us to meet her at 808."
"Then we will go as soon as we have changed and bandaged your hands," Laszlo said, but Elizabeth was already pushing by him and moving to the door. Laszlo was quicker, however, grabbing hold of his wife by the arm and stopping her from going.
"We don't have time for this, Laszlo," she complained to him, shaking her head firmly and almost glowering over to him. She wasn't in the mood to be delayed. But Laszlo was firm, his grip unrelenting as he shook his head, feeling his hair shake out the raindrops as he did so.
"Yes, we do," he said, his voice stern and indicating that he wasn't going to back down on what he was saying and what he was thinking. "We have time because you are no use to Charlotte if you become ill and I am not going to let that happen. Now, we are going to go upstairs and I am going to bandage your hands and we are going to change. Then we will go."
"Laszlo, I am fine-"
"-No," Laszlo interrupted her firmly, shaking his head. He was not going to do this with her. "We are not negotiating. Now, come on, because your hands are an absolute mess."
Elizabeth looked down to her palms and conceded that he had a point on that. There were bits of skin peeling off of them and the blood had dried there. She hadn't really paid any attention to her fall before, but now she could feel the stinging of the cuts. Looking to Laszlo, she conceded and nodded her head as he sighed in relief, silently grateful that they weren't going to be involved in an argument. That was the last thing he needed or wanted to happen.
He led her upstairs, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her forwards and towards the bathroom. She perched on the edge of the bath as Laszlo ran the water in the sink, allowing it to pool there as he reached for a washcloth.
"Who could have done this to her, Laszlo?" Elizabeth questioned from her husband as he picked up one of her hands and ran the wet cloth over them, feeling her wince against him as she tried to pull away in sudden pain, but he kept her steady. "Who would do this to us?"
"I don't know," Laszlo admitted. "I honestly do not know, but we will find out. I promise you, Elizabeth. We'll get her back."
"I just don't understand it," Elizabeth said as he continued to wash the dried blood from her palms, rinsing out the cloth in the sink and seeing the water turn a murky brown and red colour. He moved onto her other hand as he spoke with a low voice, his tone husky.
"It all makes sense, however," Laszlo said. "The way she acted with us…the missing school…sneaking off…it was to see this woman, whoever she might be."
"She can't be her mother," Elizabeth shook her head as Laszlo took her other hand and cleaned it gently, his touch almost as light as a feather as he moved his fingers over hers. "It's not possible, is it?"
"I don't think so," Laszlo declared. "When she came to the Institute, all she had was her aunt and she never mentioned another sister. She never mentioned anyone like that…nor did we truly pry. Charlotte came to us with nothing."
"So there was no record of her birth?" Elizabeth questioned.
"There was, but it stated that Alison Parker was her mother and Daniel Parker was her father."
"What was her mother's maiden name?"
"I cannot remember. I believe her aunt was called Rose Watson before she married when she abandoned Charlotte," Laszlo said. "I will go to the Institute as soon as we have spoken with Sara to find her contact details. I do not know if they will still be accurate considering she fled the country when Charlotte was still in the Institute, but it is worth a look."
"And their mother?"
"Dead," Laszlo said. "Charlotte's grandparents were both dead when she came to the Institute. Her grandfather died of a heart attack and their mother died under suspicious circumstances. They questioned if it was suicide, but no one is certain."
Elizabeth nodded her head for a moment as Laszlo dried her hands and dropped the cloth into the basin before reaching into the cabinet for the bandages. He tugged them out and Elizabeth finally felt the chill of her wet dress begin to seep into her skin. She shuddered as she reached behind her for the laces and managed to loosen them enough to peel the gown down to her waist, leaving her in her chemise and corset.
Laszlo settled down next to his wife on the side of the bathtub and took her hands, wrapping them in the bandage gently and securing them as he picked his gaze up and looked to his wife whose gaze had dropped to her lap. His lips parted as he leant towards her and kissed the top of her head, his lips staying by her forehead for a few moments.
"Come on," Laszlo urged from her, his chin on the top of her head for a moment. "We should go and change."
"Yes," Elizabeth agreed on that point and moved to stand up with him, letting her dress drop from her waist to the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked the wet garment to the side before following Laszlo back to their bedroom, his arm securely wrapped around her as she held him back.
…
Entering 808 Broadway, Elizabeth's hair was still damp from the rain. Laszlo had held the umbrella over them as they left the carriage and moved into the building, taking the stairs up towards Sara's office. The lights were dimly lit as they approached the office and Laszlo opened the door without knocking. He held it open for Elizabeth as she stepped in next to him and saw Sara stood by the door to her office.
"Elizabeth, Laszlo," she greeted them. "Mary is here already."
"Excellent," Laszlo commented and they walked forwards together, Elizabeth's green skirts catching around her legs as they rushed. Her red coat hung limply down her body, covering the white blouse she wore. Laszlo had changed into a fresh green waistcoat and white shirt, a red tie hidden beneath it. He pulled his coat from his body, finding himself quite warm after all the rushing around. He dropped it on a desk, leaving him in his suit jacket.
"Dr and Mrs Kreizler," a woman said as the two entered Sara's office. Mary was a tall, slender woman. She had dark brown hair that was pulled back into a tight bun, strands dangling down by the sides of her face and her eyes wide and green. She had plump lips and a narrow nose, her cheeks rosy red. The blue dress on her frame was a plain one, but the material looked expensive enough.
"Laszlo, Elizabeth, this is Mary," Sara declared to the two of them. "She informed me that she followed Charlotte since she returned to New York."
"I did," Mary said with a firm nod, standing up from the chair she was in, feeling like the odd one out just sat there. "She left the train station and went straight to this house just around the corner from 9th Street. I stayed outside until she came out and she returned back home…after that…I left. I thought that she would be safe back home for the night because you were both there. I saw you through the window."
"I had told Mary that we only needed Charlotte followed while she was away from home," Sara said, wondering if she should have said something different. "She was going to come back early and wait outside the house."
"This house," Laszlo said, concerned only with finding their daughter. "Did you see who owned it?"
"No," Mary shook her head, wisps of hair hitting her cheeks. "I didn't see anyone. Whoever opened the door hid behind it, almost as though they didn't want to be seen."
"We need to go there," Elizabeth said, looking to Sara and then to Mary. "Can you remember which one it was?"
"I wrote it down in my book," Mary replied and picked up the notebook she had hid in her coat pocket.
"Then we need to get there now," Laszlo said, having no intention of wasting any time. He picked his coat up once more, pulling it onto his body and the four of them left the office together. Sara managed to give Elizabeth's arm an encouraging squeeze as they headed down the stairs together.
Climbing into the carriage, Stevie spoke with Mary who gave him the address and he looked puzzled for a moment. Laszlo paused before getting into the carriage when he noted the young man's expression. He let Mary climb in as he stood to the side and spoke up to Stevie.
"What is it?" he asked from him.
"That address…I took Charlotte to a house around the corner from it only yesterday before they left for the Hamptons," Stevie said to Laszlo as Elizabeth poked her head out the carriage door, wondering what was taking so long.
"You took her there?" Elizabeth asked from him, but he shook his head and looked to her.
"I took her around the corner…when she wanted to see her friend. It was her friend I saw as well. She came to the door and everything. Jennifer, isn't it?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said with a nod of her head, wondering if Jennifer might know something about what was happening. But that was a question for later. At that moment in time, they were all just focused on getting to the house and seeing if Charlotte was there.
"We should go," Laszlo said, knowing that they had to move sooner rather than later. He climbed into the carriage behind Elizabeth and closed the door, settling down next to her on the bench. There was a tense silence in the carriage, no one wanting to speak. The carriage jolted against the road's cobbles, moving the four of them around in their seats.
Elizabeth reached out after a minute for Laszlo's hand, taking his fingers inside of hers and squeezing them tightly as he moved his thumb over the back of hers, skimming her knuckles softly and slowly. He heard her breath hitch as the carriage stopped and he opened the door, stepping onto the street and helping Elizabeth down as Sara and Mary followed.
Mary pointed the house out and Sara kept the grip on her purse tight, knowing that her gun was hidden there if she so needed it. She hoped that it didn't come down to that, but she was not optimistic after everything she had seen and been a part of.
"There are no lights on," Laszlo commented as they came to the top steps outside of the house that looked almost like their own. The metal fence at the front of it along with the steep steps leading up to it made it look like a normal home. But Laszlo didn't know what horrors hid inside of it.
Elizabeth tried the door, but it was locked. Banging on the wood, she waited to see if they heard anything, but there was nothing. Laszlo shook his head. There was no one inside of the house.
"It looks abandoned," Laszlo declared, seeing that the windows were covered in a sheen of dirt, almost as though they hadn't been washed in years.
"Do you think there is another way in?" Sara wondered.
But Elizabeth was already thinking ahead. She looked to the window next to the door and suspected it was the parlour. The steps to the front door were lined with the metal fence to stop someone from falling off and plummeting down to the basement level. Reaching for a plant pot, Laszlo wondered what was going on before she used the base of the pot to smash against the window, leaning over the fence on the steps.
"Elizabeth," Laszlo hissed at her as the glass fell to the ground. She removed her coat and covered her hand in the material, brushing away the sharp shards that remained in the frame and letting them hit the ground. "What are you doing?"
"I'm hardly waiting for a locksmith. Just help keep me steady," Elizabeth demanded from her husband.
"I'll stay out here and make sure no neighbours saw," Mary said, hoping that it was late enough for no one to have stirred from their slumber. She moved down the steps as Sara shook her head at Elizabeth.
"You can't go in there," Sara said. "You don't know what might be in there."
"And if it's my daughter? I'm not waiting," Elizabeth said and began to climb the fence, Laszlo cursing her and trying to bring her back to the ground, but she was quick and strong when she needed to be. She held onto his shoulder as she managed to balance on the railing with one foot as she placed the other on the windowsill.
"Elizabeth, get back here," Laszlo demanded from his wife as he tried to reach for her.
But she was already on the windowsill and ducking down into the house.
"Elizabeth," Laszlo hissed her name as she disappeared into the house. Laszlo grunted under his breath and cursed in Hungarian. "Why is she so stubborn?"
"Because it is who she is," Sara said as Laszlo considered how he would be able to scale the fence with his bad arm, holding onto the metal railing for a moment before he heard a clunking noise and he turned around to see the door open, Elizabeth stood there.
"It's empty," she said to them as they entered the house and Sara closed the door behind them, nodding to Mary who nodded back to her firmly, indicating that she would be fine dealing with this on her own.
"It smells very strong in here," Mary declared.
"Lavender," Laszlo said, sniffing and inhaling the scent.
Elizabeth moved further into the house, looking into the rooms but paying no attention to their contents. She was looking for one thing and one thing only. Sara climbed the stairs to the first floor and checked the bedrooms, but all she found was beds covered in sheets and furniture also covered up. Dust lined them and boxes were dotted around as well. Moving up to the second floor, she pushed the door open to a room and froze. This room was lived in.
It was a bedroom with floral white wallpaper peeling off of the walls. The carpet was firm and stained, a dark red colour with a rug under the brass bed frame. The wardrobe doors were open wide and completely empty, the bed unmade.
"Have you found anything?" Elizabeth's voice asked from behind her.
"Nothing, I don't think," Sara said. "But someone has been living here."
Elizabeth moved further into the room, pulling open drawers and longing to find something. But she couldn't find anything. All the drawers were empty and vacant. There was no sign of life at all. But there had been. Laszlo came up the stairs behind them and peeled the door open to another room, stepping into and freezing instantly at the sight he saw. He had seen horrors in his life. He had seen things that scared him. But nothing terrified him as much as the sight he was seeing right then and there.
"Laszlo, is there anything in there?" Sara asked, looking down the hall to see him stood in the doorway. He didn't answer her. He was completely frozen, unable to move any further into the room. Sara's brow furrowed and she moved towards him, anxious about what it was she was going to find. She didn't know, nor did she suspect she wanted to know.
"Laszlo, I…" Sara trailed off and went silent, shaking her head back and forth. "My God…what…" she couldn't find the words that she wanted to speak. They were failing her.
"Laszlo…Sara…I can't find anything in that room," Elizabeth's voice entered their ears and Laszlo instantly moved, leaving the room and seeing his wife as she approached. She saw the look on his face and wondered if she had ever seen him so pale. His eyes showed distress and there was a look of horror to them, his lips parted and his hands shaking.
"Laszlo…what…" Elizabeth trailed off as he took hold of her by the waist and stopped her from moving towards the room.
"You don't need to see that," Laszlo informed his wife, shaking his head firmly. "Elizabeth, please, listen to me."
"No…what is it?" Elizabeth demanded to know from her husband. He was doing everything in his power to keep her safe, but she didn't want him to keep her safe. She wanted him to tell her what was going on. She needed him just to let her see. "Laszlo…I need to know."
"No, Elizabeth, darling…please…" Laszlo begged, wanting to keep her from it, knowing how she would react when she saw the room. He was trying to protect her, but she was clawing against his arms, her hands wrapping around his arms to push him from her. She managed to get free from him as he cursed his weak arm and he reached for her wrist, trying to pulling her back but failing miserably as she stormed forwards.
"Elizabeth," Laszlo pleaded again, but she was already stood next to Sara, the detective completely immobile and frozen in her spot.
Looking into the room, Elizabeth's face instantly fell. She had half expected to see Charlotte there, but there was no one in the room. Her heart was beating hard, blood pumping into her ears as she looked around and knew exactly why Laszlo was trying to keep her from it.
"No…no…this can't be," Elizabeth garbled, too scared to step any further into the room. She didn't want to get any closer. She didn't know if she even could. She felt her knees begin to shake as she looked around, her eyes unable to stay in one fixed place. "Laszlo…"
Her calling of his name brought him straight to her as he tried to wrap her into his arms, almost as though that would protect her from the sights of the room, as if burying her face into his chest would stop her from seeing those images. But they were etched on their brains now. There would be no forgetting.
"What is this?" Elizabeth asked, her voice shaking as Laszlo shook his head, completely at a loss for words. He was quiet. He was always quiet when he was in shock. But Elizabeth was different. She would cry and yell, her fear evident on her face. "What is this?!" she demanded again as Laszlo managed to wrap both arms around her as she clung onto his arms.
"I don't know," Sara answered in a muted voice.
"It's not Charlotte's," Elizabeth said determinedly as she looked up to Laszlo and he looked down to her, knowing that she needed affirmation. She needed him to tell her that. "Laszlo…it's not Charlotte's…it can't be."
But he remained silent. He couldn't give her what she wanted. He couldn't give her that because he didn't know if it would be a lie.
"It's not hers!" Elizabeth shouted, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks as she pushed against his chest, almost as though that would get him to say what she needed him to say. "It's not hers, Laszlo! It can't be hers! Not our daughter…not our little girl…"
"Elizabeth, you need to leave the room," Sara said, knowing that she had to be coherent as she felt her eyes begin to water, unable to stop herself. She tried to remain composed as she looked to Laszlo, Elizabeth's back to hers as she kept trying to shake her husband into answering her.
"Laszlo…no…not Charlotte…please…" Elizabeth continued as she looked to her husband and he shook his head. He didn't need to say anything for her to know what he thought. He wasn't going to feed her lies. He wasn't going to do that to her. All he could do was stay with her.
He managed to cling onto her as she continued shouting incoherently and he pressed a hand to the back of her hand, murmuring her screams against his chest as she buried herself there and he backed them out of the doorway and into the corridor. His own knees gave out on him and he sunk to the floor, cradling Elizabeth with him as she held him just as he held her. Sara looked to the pair of them on the ground, Laszlo's cheek pressed to the top of Elizabeth's head as she kept her face against his chest, her sobs muffled. Laszlo's arms remained around her as she held his waist and they clung to each other as though their lives depended on it.
Turning to look back to the room, Sara dared to take a step inside of it and her spine stiffened instantly. She looked at the bed in the middle of the room and the handcuffs attached to the brass headboard. Her eyes moved over the sheets that were, no doubt, once white, but were now stained red. Looking over the walls, she felt instant horror at the sight of the blood that splattered the dirty, white wallpaper. But more than that, she shuddered at the words written in the blood. The two simple words that she suspected would haunt all of them. She's mine.
…
Laszlo didn't know how they had gotten home. His mind had not been his own. It was almost as though there was someone else controlling him. He could vaguely remember Sara calling his name and urging for him to go downstairs and back to the carriage, his hands still clinging to his wife firmly. The ride back to the house had been a tense one, with Mary and Sara staying at the house together, knowing they had to call the police. Laszlo suspected they would be knocking on their door soon enough.
He had been right in that matter. Elizabeth and Laszlo had answered their questions dutifully before his wife had gone upstairs once they had left. Laszlo had shown them out and closed the door, resting his forehead against the wooden pane as he wondered if he had ever felt heartache like this. Tears slid down his cheeks and to the ground, his eyes aching and his head pounding. Sniffing, he ran a hand under his nose and loosened his tie before undoing his top button.
Moving up the stairs, he headed to Charlotte's room, knowing that was where Elizabeth had to be. He found her soon enough, seeing her sat on the end of Charlotte's bed and clinging onto the stuffed bear that Laszlo had bought her when she had been a little girl.
"We should have done something sooner," Elizabeth said, the bear tight to her chest as she bowed her head and Laszlo moved into the room. He perched down next to her on the edge of the bed. "Why did we not stop her?"
"We did everything we could," Laszlo assured his wife, knowing that she would start to blame herself. But he didn't want her to do that. He knew what would happen if she started to blame herself. He knew full well the dark place that she went to when bad things happened. "Elizabeth, you are not doing this. You are not blaming yourself, not this time. You are not closing me out…because…I need you. I need you right now and I cannot deal with this alone. We need each other."
Looking to him, her eyes met his and she could see the pain there alongside the longing: the longing that Elizabeth didn't push him away. And she never meant to. She never meant to push him away, but it was who she was. She blamed herself. She had a habit of doing that. But this time had to be different. This time she had to be with Laszlo. Nodding her head, she understood what he was saying to her and she moved wrap her arms around him, feeling him lean against her and burrow his beard-covered cheek by her neck. The scratch irritated her skin for a moment as she ran her hands down his hair, dropping the bear to her lap.
"I've got you," she promised him, feeling him sob against her as her own tears fell onto the top of his head. "We've got each other, Laszlo. We always will do."
…
Sara looked at the boxes that she had collected from the house. As soon as she had sent Elizabeth and Laszlo home, she had gone through the boxes to see if she could find anything that might be of interest. She did not entirely trust the police to help. She would be the one to work on this case. She had taken the boxes back to 808 Broadway with Mary's help and was sat amongst them as the sun broke through the clouds in the early morning.
She was knelt on the floor in her office, the door closed and a glass of bourbon next to her. She was trying to remain composed, a part of her hoping that they would be able to find Charlotte. There had been no body. She kept telling herself that. But there had been so much blood. There had been so much blood that it was difficult not to think the worst.
As Sara pulled the lid off the first box, she heard a knock on the main door. The tapping was slow and purposeful. Standing up, she moved towards the door and she knew the outline through the glass. Pulling the door open, she saw Laszlo stood there. He was still dressed in the same clothes as the night before, his eyes puffy and his cheeks red. His hair was mussed up and his tie was pulled loose around his collar.
"Laszlo, what on earth are you doing here?" Sara demanded to know from him.
"I cannot sleep," Laszlo declared and she let him into the office. "Elizabeth had a headache and I gave her a tonic to help her sleep. Marcus is at the house right now in case she wakes while I am gone, but I doubt she will."
"You should be with her."
"I will be," Laszlo assured Sara. "But I could not sleep, despite me insisting on Elizabeth sleeping. I knew that you would be here and I needed to know if…if it was not just me and Elizabeth who feared the worst…who think that…"
"Laszlo," Sara sighed his name, but he shook his head and held a hand up, gulping harshly. He had no intention of crying again. He had to remain composed for his own sake.
"Just tell me the truth," Laszlo urged from Sara, but he knew what she was thinking. He could see it in her face.
"I don't know what to say," Sara said, not wanting to tell him what she truly thought.
"You don't need to say anything," Laszlo promised her, able to see it in her eyes.
"But whoever has done this…to Charlotte…whatever has happened…I will find them, Laszlo. I am not going to rest until I do," Sara said and Laszlo did not doubt that. He knew how Sara was strong willed. She meant what she said. "I have brought back some boxes from the house to look through to see if it can give us any idea as to who would have done this."
"Allow me to help."
"I insist that you return home."
"And I plead with you not to force me to leave," Laszlo said and Sara couldn't help but think that he looked so broken. "She is our daughter, Sara. I remember holding her when Elizabeth was unconscious…her sitting on my lap…clinging to me…and I swore then and there that I would never abandon her or leave her. I swore to do everything possible to give her a happy life if Elizabeth didn't make it. She might not be our daughter by blood, but that doesn't matter. She is our daughter and I need to know who could have taken her from us."
Sara's throat tightened and she blinked profusely to stop herself from crying, wondering if she had ever heard Laszlo speak in such a way. All she could do was nod her head and lead him through to her office. They entered silently and she closed the door, pouring Laszlo a glass of bourbon and placing it on the edge of her desk.
"I had only just started when you arrived," Sara informed him.
He nodded and sat in a chair as Sara took the chair across from him and pulled the box she had opened to her. Laszlo took another box and the two of them began sifting through their contents. There were random notes that seemed incoherent and drawings that children had done. There were bills and old newspaper cuttings. They continued digging through the boxes in silence, the ticking noise of the clock and their soft breaths the only noise in the room.
Opening another box after downing the bourbon, Laszlo pulled out a collection of photographs. He looked down at the image of three girls and his brows knitted together on his forehead. Sara glanced up and over to him.
"What is it?" she questioned.
"A photograph," he answered her. "Three girls."
"Who are they?"
"Their names are written on the back," Laszlo said. "Alison…Rose…and Beatrice."
Sara wrinkled her nose. "Who are they?"
"Alison Watson was Charlotte's mother and Rose Watson was her aunt," Laszlo said. "Charlotte claimed that her mother had two sisters, but there was never any record of a third sister. Rose was the one who abandoned Charlotte at the Institute and she claimed she was her only family."
"So she lied?" Sara checked.
"I…I think so," Laszlo confessed, not wanting to believe what he was seeing or looking at. "Whoever Beatrice is, she looks exactly like Rose and Alison. She looks just like them."
"So there was a third sister," Sara concluded as Laszlo handed her the image and she looked down to it. The three sisters did, uncannily, look like each other. She could not ignore that certain fact. "Beatrice Watson."
"Why would Rose claim that there was no other family member who could look after Charlotte when she left her at the Institute?" Laszlo wondered and continued going through the photographs.
"Perhaps she passed away when they were younger?"
"Perhaps," Laszlo said. "But look at this…Beatrice is in photographs up until a certain point and then she disappears. There are no images of her at Charlotte's Christening…or at Alison's wedding…there is only Alison, Rose and their mother, who according to this photo, was called Julia."
"I will have one of the girls look for a record on Beatrice to see if we can find out what happened to her."
"But why would Charlotte's mother have told her that she only had one sister?" Laszlo wondered, looking down at another image of the three girls sat on a bench, bodies angled towards the camera as they perched there in height order. "Why not say that one had passed away if that was true? Why lie about it?"
"I don't know," Sara confessed. "But we need to talk to Rose as well."
"She left the States for England. She abandoned Charlotte. I was going to try and find her contact details at the Institute, but I suspect they will be out of date," Laszlo said to Sara as she made notes on a pad next to her, making her list of people she needed to track down.
"I will try and find her too," Sara said. "She might be able to shine a light on what happened, but from the looks of it, that house was their family home that was still in Rose's name."
"This is all too much," Laszlo said, running a hand along his beard-covered chin, scratching at it for a few moments before chewing down on his tongue. "If this sister does exist…removed from the family history…then it could be possible that she was the woman who Charlotte was seeing."
"It's a possibility, but why say she was her mother? Why not say she was her aunt?"
Laszlo shrugged his shoulders. "That, I do not know," he said.
Sara shook her head slowly and reached for another box. Tugging the lid off and tossing it to the side, she looked inside and instantly dropped the box. Laszlo placed his own box onto the floor then as well. He moved to perch at the edge of the chair and looked into the box.
"It's not possible," Sara said, picking up the old newspaper cuttings and letting her eyes run over them. She drank in the girls in the pictures, each one of them familiar to her and Laszlo swore he felt a new wave of horror take over him as he moved to his feet and tugged his hands through his hair. It couldn't be possible. It just couldn't be.
"They're articles," Sara whispered, wondering if she needed to say it out loud. "Articles about Jessica Chappell…Josephine Jones…Jenifer Bradbury…each of their disappearance and murders."
Laszlo stood up and felt his breath hitch in his throat as he left the room. Sara wondered where he was going as she stood up and followed him. She found him moving towards the bathroom. She entered the room without knocking, finding Laszlo hunched over the sink and being violently ill. She stood by the doorway and allowed him to finish, his hand gripping the sink tightly and his head bowed. He didn't think he had anything in his stomach to empty. Once he had finished retching, he turned the tap on and splashed water on his face. Sara grabbed a towel and handed it to him, letting him dry his face.
"It might not mean anything, Laszlo," Sara said.
"We are both not naïve enough to believe that, Sara," Laszlo mumbled, shaking his head and dabbing the towel against his lips. He dropped it over the side of the sink and looked her in the eye. "Whoever killed those girls…why else would she keep the newspaper articles?"
Sara didn't answer. She didn't need to answer because she knew there was no point.
"The cases…and Charlotte's behaviour…they're linked together," Laszlo said with a nod of his head. "It's all linked together, Sara."
"And we're going to work out how," Sara promised him.
Laszlo nodded. He gulped to himself once more. "But why?"
…
A/N: Do let me know what you think and if you have any ideas as to what might be coming up. Not sure if anyone is reading, except Daydreamerxx, but I would love to know what you think and if you're still interested!