Standing in 808 Broadway, Laszlo had a sense of déjà vu as he looked down at the images in front of him on Sara's desk. Elizabeth was stood by his side, her own eyes flickering over them. While Laszlo dissected them at length, Elizabeth couldn't let her eyes remain focused. Looking up, her eyes landed back on Sara as she stood across the desk from them, dressed in a white shirt with a black skirt, a black tie around her neck and dangling down her front.
"They're exactly the same," Elizabeth whispered.
"She was brought into the morgue this morning," Lucius said as Marcus stood by his side, arms folded over his chest. "We brought the file as soon as we could, but the boss has no idea. We had to keep it quiet. They don't want people to become fearful…they managed to tie the murders to Beatrice before she died."
"She's not dead," Elizabeth said clearly and looked around the room. Her eyes flitted between the Isaacson twins, John, Sara and finally landed on Laszlo. None of them said anything to her as she pointed down to the images. "How could she be dead when this has happened?"
No one said anything for a few moments and Laszlo knew that he should be the one to talk to her. He coughed into his fist for a moment and then looked to his wife, her gaze lingering on his and he saw the hope in her face. Despite the horrors of the murder they were discussing, she had hope because she thought this meant that Charlotte could still be alive. She felt horrible for even thinking such a thing, guilt eating her up. A child had died and here she was wishing for good news.
"It could be a copycat killer," Laszlo said to his wife.
She scoffed and shook her head. "Seriously?" she demanded to know from her husband. "You think that someone could copy these crimes?"
"It has been known to happen," Laszlo said. "In London, after the Ripper tormented the streets, there were a number of copycat crimes."
"But this is not the Ripper and this is not London," Elizabeth said to her husband. "Why are you so against the idea that this is Beatrice?" she demanded to know, picking the folder up and then throwing it back against the desk. Her eyes were set only on her husband, no one else in the room mattering to her. She just needed him to believe her. She had gone weeks with him doubting her when all she longed for was him to come around to her way of thinking.
"Because she died," Laszlo said to his wife.
"But there was no body!" Elizabeth snapped, repeating those words for what seemed like the millionth time to him. She clenched her hands by her side, her cheeks tinting red. "Laszlo, they never found a body and then I saw Charlotte-"
"-Not this again," Laszlo interrupted and he swore that he had never seen his wife look so hurt with his words. She recoiled almost as though he had slapped at her. He wanted to reach out for her and tell her that he didn't mean what he had said. But the problem was that he did mean it. He did mean what he had said because he had been walking on eggshells around her for weeks, exchanging pleasantries and ignoring the issue at hand.
"Not this again?" she repeated his words back to him. "I'm sorry if our daughter still being alive is an inconvenience to you," she spat.
"Because she has gone, Elizabeth!" Laszlo snapped, knowing that his words would impact her. He didn't want them to. He didn't want to hurt her. He ignored the others in the room, knowing that they didn't need to witness their arguing, but it seemed as though they were going to be privy to it anyway. "She is dead and you constantly saying otherwise is destroying our family…it is hurting us…our marriage."
"Because you won't listen to me!" Elizabeth snapped at him.
"No," Laszlo retorted as Sara left the room, the others following her out of her office without another word. But Elizabeth and Laszlo were too wrapped up in their argument. "You won't listen to me, Elizabeth. Our marriage is strong…I know that it is… it's gone through a lot and we've always managed to come out of things stronger, but this is pushing us to the edge."
"What are you saying?" Elizabeth asked from him.
"I'm saying that there is only so much I can take," Laszlo informed his wife and he picked up the folder that she had thrown down. "What has happened here tonight could be a copycat or it could be Beatrice. I don't know, Elizabeth. I don't know what it is, but I don't want you to get your hopes up. I don't want you to get your hopes up and think that it means Charlotte is alive because I don't know if I could stand watching them being broken down."
He tossed the folder back down and ran his hands through his hair. Moving around the office, he kept a hand to his chin as he stepped towards the window and peered down onto the street beneath him. Remaining silent, Elizabeth scratched at her arm out of anxiousness as she watched the back of him, biting down on her tongue and hearing him sigh loudly.
"I don't want you to be disappointed, Elizabeth," Laszlo said to his wife in a soft whisper, wondering if she could hear him. "I worry about you. I've spent years worrying about you…trying to protect you and our girls…I couldn't protect Charlotte and I have to live with that regret every day of my life…"
"It wasn't your fault," Elizabeth said, her voice softening as she dared to take a step forwards, but she didn't reach out for him. She remained back, uncertain of if he would welcome her touch. But he would. He wanted nothing more than her to hold him and comfort him.
"No?" Laszlo questioned. "Then why do I live with the guilt? Why do I live with the guilt that I couldn't have just met her at the train station when she came back and taken her home?"
"She would have escaped her room as she did before," Elizabeth said to Laszlo. "We tried everything we could to get her to talk to us, Laszlo. You know that and I know that…but the guilt…I feel it too. We can tell ourselves that we did everything, but that doesn't mean we won't feel guilty."
Laszlo could only nod, looking out onto the street still as Elizabeth moved a hand to his shoulder, finally gathering up the courage to comfort him, hoping that he didn't push her away. And he didn't. She squeezed his shoulder tightly.
"But you have to see that this would make sense," Elizabeth said to him. "Please, Laszlo, I know that you worry I will have my hopes dashed, but you have to admit that this is more than coincidental."
Laszlo turned to look to her, picking her hand up from his shoulder and he turned around to face her. He kept her hand inside of his, feeling her engagement ring and wedding ring as he ran his thumb over her fingers. Looking her in the eye, he gulped and she could see the tears falling down his cheeks. Moving her free hand up, she brushed them away with the pad of her thumb.
"Perhaps," Laszlo admitted to her. He could hardly deny it. "But if it isn't then what? What happens, Elizabeth? Do you continue thinking that Charlotte is still alive? How long does it go on for?"
"I don't know," Elizabeth said to her husband, retracting her hand and letting it dangle down by her side. "I honestly don't know, Laszlo, but I can't give up on her. I can't give up after what I saw."
"That's what scares me," Laszlo admitted. "And I want it to be true, Elizabeth. I want all of this to be true, but I know better than to be optimistic and hopeful."
"Why?" Elizabeth asked from him. "Why are you so against this?"
"Because I've had enough heartache to know that good things rarely happen," Laszlo said to Elizabeth, letting go of her hand and moving to sit down in a chair. She watched him go, hair falling down her shoulders as she turned her head to the side and looked to him. "Elizabeth, I grew up never to expect anything good to happen to me. My childhood…growing up with my parents…and then my failed engagement with Frances…I never thought that I would have anything that people had…that normal life."
Elizabeth moved and knelt down in front of him, her knees aching on the wooden floor as she took his hands into hers.
"But look at what you did," Elizabeth said. "Your work and the Institute…you've done so much, Laszlo."
"I know," Laszlo agreed with her on that point. "And they make me happy, yes, but work…it became my life for so long because I hid behind the Institute's wall. It was a safety net and I persuaded myself I was happy with that because I thought it would be all that I would have…until I met you."
Elizabeth remained mute, knowing that Laszlo rarely spoke so openly to her. She told him that he could talk to her. She always told him that he could talk to her, but he was always the one being strong for her. She loved him for that, but she wished he leant on her a bit more sometimes.
"And then so much happened, Elizabeth," Laszlo confessed. "Falling in love with you was never a part of my plan. I never meant for it to happen because I knew you were a married woman, but it happened. It happened and I never thought that we would be together. I'd convinced myself that you would always be his…no matter how many times I told you to leave him…that I would look out for you."
"You knew what he was like, Laszlo," Elizabeth whispered. "I stayed with him because I was scared of what he would do not to me, but to you."
"But it should have been me who stopped him from hurting you…but you saved me from him," Laszlo said to her. "And after that…after we convinced ourselves that telling the police a lie would be the right thing, I wondered if we would ever be able to be together, especially when you ran away from home."
"I never knew if you'd want me," Elizabeth admitted to her husband.
"I will always want you," he said to his wife in a soft voice. "And when we eventually confessed how we felt, you were almost taken from me again…and then we lost Charlotte…we had a perfect life for a little while, Elizabeth. You, me and our daughters. But I should have known that it wouldn't last because nothing good ever does for us."
Elizabeth had to confess that he had a point in what he was saying. She didn't want to admit that, but he was right. They did have a tendency to have bad things happen to them and so she could see why Laszlo was pessimistic. It would make sense. But then again, it wasn't a way to live, expecting bad things to happen.
"I understand what you're saying," Elizabeth said to her husband with a nod of her head. "I know why you're scared, Laszlo, and we have gone through a lot together…but I don't want you to think that what has happened in the past means that it dictates our future. We can't live in fear of the next bad thing happening to us."
"And I know that," Laszlo promised her, looking down to her. "But I do not want to have hope only for it to be snatched away. I don't know if I could handle it."
"But is it not better to have hope than not to have any at all?" Elizabeth retorted. "But…I understand, Laszlo, and I only wish that you told me sooner how you felt."
Laszlo shook his head. "Things have not been entirely amicable between us, Elizabeth," he reminded his wife. "And this case…this murder…if it turns out that it is not Beatrice and we don't find Charlotte anytime soon, then I worry what will become of you."
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "I don't want to think about that, Laszlo," she said to him. "You know how you don't want to think optimistically? I can't think anything but that. But can we not just see how the case works out, Laszlo? Can we simply not investigate and see what happens? If it leads us to Charlotte then we will…I don't think words could describe how we would feel…but if it doesn't then we can cross that bridge when we come to it."
Laszlo knew that they could simply be delaying the inevitable. But Elizabeth was stubborn. He knew that much about his wife. She didn't give up when she thought that she was right about something. He could only nod. Perhaps this was the best outcome for them? Perhaps this compromise was necessary?
"Thank you," Elizabeth said to him and she moved to peck him on the cheek. "Come on, we should tell them that we've finished our argument."
Despite everything, Laszlo chuckled at that. He nodded again and stood up. Elizabeth went to the door, but Laszlo stopped her, grabbing hold of her and turning her around so that he could embrace her, holding her in his grip. He kept an arm around her waist as her own arms wrapped around his neck and she felt him kiss her on the top of her head. She knew they still disagreed over Charlotte, but until the case had been investigated, they would put aside that disagreement. And Laszlo had missed being close to his wife. He had missed holding her to him. He had missed talking freely with her.
And if this case did lead them to Charlotte then Laszlo didn't know if he would be able to comprehend how he would feel. But he would not let himself get carried away.
Elizabeth kissed him briefly, pecking him on the lips for the first time in weeks before she opened the door and apologised for their argument. Everyone said that they understood and filtered back into the office. Elizabeth stood next to Laszlo, a hand remaining on his back as she tried to offer him some support, listening as he described what he saw in the images.
If it was Beatrice then they had to admit that her motives were what they needed to work out. She had killed another girl who had a younger sibling.
"She is killing the older sibling…" Laszlo said. "Her older sibling, Alison, took her daughter from her. She has resentment towards her, clearly. If this is Beatrice, and it is only an if, then she sees older siblings as a threat after what hers did to her. She…perhaps she sees herself as doing good? As helping a family?"
"That's quite a warped way of seeing things," Marcus said.
"Indeed, but it would make sense," Laszlo said. "She is clearly full of resentment and anger."
"But if this is Beatrice then why would having her daughter back not be enough for her?" Sara questioned, knowing that she should tread lightly. But they had to be honest. They had to assume that this was Beatrice or a copycat so they had to cover all possibilities.
"I don't know," Laszlo confessed. "She stopped killing for weeks so you would have assumed it would be enough, but clearly the urges are too strong…either that or she…her daughter…Charlotte," Laszlo stammered, uncertain of himself when discussing his own daughter, "she no longer gives her the love she craves. She took her because she wanted that adoration. If she is no longer receiving it then it could have driven her to this."
"So where do we start?" Sara asked.
"We go to the crime scene tomorrow," Laszlo said. "It took place in the park near Charlotte's school."
"The police didn't find anything," Marcus said.
"No, they said that she was found in the morning by a man on an early morning walk," Lucius said.
"But the police aren't as thorough as we are," John added on.
"Indeed," Laszlo agreed with him on that point. "But for now, while it is dark, we should return home. We will meet tomorrow at first light, although I doubt any of us will get any sleep."
Sara nodded, agreeing with that point. Leaving the office, Laszlo knew that he had to talk to John. He wanted a private word with him. He looked to Elizabeth and asked Marcus to escort her downstairs with Lucius. Elizabeth shot him a questioning look, but he simply nodded at her as he asked John for a private word. Sara had stayed back in her office, no doubt intending on working late.
"What is it?" John questioned, standing in the entrance hall of 808 as Marcus helped Elizabeth into their carriage, Stevie stood by the open door and talking to her, no doubt asking her what had happened.
"Did you tell Violet about Elizabeth?" Laszlo asked from his friend. "About her…how she thinks Charlotte is still alive?"
John shrugged and rocked back and forth on his heels. "She is my wife, Laszlo, and she cares very much for your family," he said to him. "I could hardly keep it from her. We've all been worried about Elizabeth, but after tonight, she might have a point."
"Perhaps, but that is not why I am asking you," Laszlo said. "I was at the opera this evening when I heard three women talking. I believe they are friends of Violet's. They were talking about Elizabeth…saying how she is searching for her dead adopted daughter and all types of other horrible things…claiming that she is crazy…wondering if I will have her committed."
"My God," John whispered. "Laszlo, I asked her not to tell anyone."
"I do not doubt that," Laszlo said. "But the fact is that the news is still out there and people are now gossiping about her. She has suffered enough, John. She has been the subject of conversation much too often."
"I know," John said. "And I doubt Violet meant to spread such cruel rumours. You know how people are-"
"-Which is why I wanted no one to know," Laszlo interrupted. "I don't need her to hear such rumours."
"I will talk to Violet," John could only say.
Laszlo shrugged. "It is too late now," he replied. "Goodnight, John. I shall see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight," John responded and Laszlo moved down the steps, asking Stevie to take them back home.
Looking to his wife, Laszlo knew she was staring at him and waiting for him to tell her what his conversation with John had been about. She sighed as she watched him and sat on the bench across from him, folding one leg over the other.
"Are you going to tell me what that was about or do I have to stare at you until you crack?"
"It was nothing."
"You're a terrible liar," Elizabeth said to her husband.
He said nothing for a moment, Elizabeth's intense stare remaining set on him. Finally, he cracked, nodding his head for a few seconds and looking to her. He suspected it would be better hearing it from him than from anyone else and, if they were to go out again, there was a chance that could happen. Laszlo didn't want to take that risk.
"It's about tonight."
"About you dragging us out of the opera?" she questioned.
"Yes," Laszlo said with a nod. "It was because there were people gossiping, Elizabeth. They were gossiping about you."
Elizabeth nodded her head and shrugged ruefully at hearing that. "What does that matter? People always gossip about us when we go out. We've gotten used to it, haven't we?"
"I thought so, but this wasn't about us," Laszlo said. "And it wasn't about the usual things."
"Then what was it about?"
"They…about your looking for Charlotte," Laszlo finally confessed to her and she remained stoic. She didn't let her emotions get the better of her. Instead, she remained fixated on watching her husband as he studied her, trying to find out if she would be upset or angry. "They called you names and made suggestions that were cruel. I interrupted them and told them that they should not take part in such gossip."
"I see," Elizabeth simply said to him.
"Violet was the one who spread the word," he added on. "I had hoped to keep it private to avoid this kind of thing."
"This kind of thing?" Elizabeth repeated. "So, they think I'm crazy? Is that my new nickname then? Kreizler's crazy whore? It has a nice ring to it."
"Never," Laszlo said, his tone firm as he moved to sit next to his wife, grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing it firmly. He despised it whenever they would go out and he would hear them call her such a name, thinking he couldn't hear as they whispered in corners. The doctor and his whore. If only they knew. But no one knew. No one knew, yet they still judged.
"I imagine it will be all over the high society circles in New York," Elizabeth said to her husband. "But it doesn't matter because they'll see. They'll see that I'm not crazy."
Laszlo didn't know what to say back to Elizabeth for a moment, his arm moving around her shoulders and wrapping her up against him. She leant her head on his shoulder and he kissed the crown of her forehead.
"I know, my love," was all that he could say before they lapsed into silence for the remainder of the journey home.
…
Standing in the park around the corner from Charlotte's school, Elizabeth found herself struggling not to remember how they would sometimes go there when she picked her up. She had been pregnant with Lucy and had walked slowly because of her bump. Charlotte had worried that their visits would finish when Lucy was born, but Elizabeth promised her that would not happen. Instead, she would push the newborn baby in her pram instead, Charlotte acting as the attentive big sister.
"The girl was only twelve," Sara said as they all stood on the path, looking at the bench where the child had been found. "Her name was Jacqueline Swift. Her mother is a school teacher and her father a banker. She had a younger sister…Marianne."
"A younger sister," Laszlo confirmed.
"We took samples of her blood," Marcus said.
Lucius had to go into work that morning, covering for Marcus in order for him to come and meet Sara, John, Laszlo and Elizabeth. Diana was looking after Lucy and Emily back at home. Laszlo and Elizabeth had kissed the girl's goodbye that morning, Lucy asking if they had stopped fighting when she picked up on them actually talking to each other and being genuine. Laszlo said that everything was fine. They had tried to protect the girls from their frosty relationship, but clearly they had failed miserably.
"But she wasn't killed here," Marcus added on. "There wasn't enough blood. She was arranged here."
"Posed in the open, Sara commented. "Almost as though she wants us to see her."
"She never truly covers up her crimes, does she?" John commented. "All of the other girls have been found in public."
"And the house," Marcus said, remembering when he had visited the house of horrors, as he had nicknamed it. "It was completely empty. There was no fresh blood or any sign of life. Whoever is committing these murders isn't committing them in that house, not anymore."
"Surely there are only so many places where you can take a child?" Laszlo said. "And whoever is taking them…she must earn their trust for them to go with her. Children usually do not go with those who they don't know."
"So…she poses as someone in a position of authority?" Sara suggested.
"It's possible," Laszlo agreed on that point. "Who would you see and have unquestioning belief in? The police? We know that they are a male dominated profession. Teachers? Perhaps, but only those who they know."
"A nurse." John said and Elizabeth looked to him, nodding her head.
"Beatrice was training to be a nurse when she fell pregnant," Elizabeth said, reminding Laszlo of what they had read in the files. Nodding profusely, he agreed with her on that point. That would make sense. "All it would take would be her to tell a child that their parent…sister…has fallen ill."
"I think you might have a point," Laszlo said, hand going to his wife's arm and holding onto it. He walked around the bench, looking down onto it before he spotted it in the grass next to him. It glistened in the light and Laszlo crouched down onto the grass. He moved his hand out towards the item, fingers curling around it. His shaking hand picked it up as Elizabeth watched him and John, Sara and Marcus continued exchanging theories.
"What is it?" Elizabeth asked, picking up her heavy red skirts and moving to stand across from her husband. He began to stand up and held his hand out towards her, uncurling his fist and revealing what he held in his palm.
"It's not possible," Laszlo whispered, shaking his head back and forth.
"It's hers," Elizabeth said to her husband. "Open it…it's hers, Laszlo."
He opened the locket, remembering how they had bought her it for her eleventh birthday. The inscription had been a personal touch, Laszlo suggesting it himself and Elizabeth wondering when he had become so soft, teasing him when he had shown her it after picking it up.
"It's hers," Elizabeth echoed again as Laszlo shook his head, cheeks turning pale. "It's Charlotte's locket, Laszlo."
"How?" Laszlo asked.
"She must have brought it here," Elizabeth said as Laszlo's eyes moved over the words written inside of it.
To our darling daughter. You've brought nothing but magic into our lives. L and E x
He had thought of the magic reference when he had been practicing his tricks with her, but she had grown immune to them. She had laughed when they gave it to her, rolling her eyes when she became a teenager. But she never took it off. It would always sit underneath her dresses.
"What is it?" Sara questioned, Laszlo still unusually silent.
"It's Charlotte's locket," Elizabeth told them, prising it from his hands to show Sara.
"How can you be sure?" Marcus asked.
"Look at the inscription. We had it done for her birthday," Elizabeth told them. "It's her locket which means that she has to be here. She never takes it off."
"Either that or Beatrice stole it," John said. "I think we can safely say that Beatrice is behind this now. How else could the necklace have gotten here? It makes no sense."
"No," Elizabeth said, voice full of determination. "It had to have been Charlotte. She left it here for us to find. She left it as a clue…to tell us that she's still alive…because she knows that we wouldn't give up on her. She knows that."
"But this doesn't help us, does it?" Marcus said, not wanting to sound too down about things, but he didn't see how this could lead them to the killer.
Elizabeth looked around the park. The grass was covered in dew, a soft mist clearing with the morning sun. Elizabeth pushed out the creases in her red skirt as she pulled her coat tighter around her body. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she walked forwards along the path, Laszlo snapping out of the trance he had been in. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, shaking his head and watching his wife storm off.
"Where is she going?" Sara wondered.
"You know, Charlotte, if you're going to play hide and seek then you should find other places to hide. You can't hide behind the same tree all of the time," Elizabeth said and the little girl shot her a toothy smile as she looked up to her. It had been a year and a half since she had adopted her and Sara was at home looking after Lucy while Elizabeth went to pick Charlotte up from school, needing to take her shopping for a new dress afterwards.
They had taken a detour through the park together, Charlotte pleading with her to play hide and seek.
"But if I hide in the same place then I know you'll always find me," Charlotte said to Elizabeth and she felt her stomach warm up as she took her hand and crouched down, her fingers engulfing her adopted daughter's tightly.
"I'll always find you," Elizabeth promised her. "Do you understand that? I won't let anything happen to you, ever."
Charlotte wrapped her arms around Elizabeth, holding onto her tightly, her grip firm and not wanting to let go, content that she had someone looking out for her after so long.
"It's the tree," Laszlo answered Sara as Elizabeth scurried around it, hands pressing to the bark. "Charlotte would play hide and seek with her when we came here. She would hide behind the same tree all the time…I'd watch her when I came…Elizabeth playing the game with her."
"Not quite the aim of the game," Marcus mumbled.
Bending down, Elizabeth picked something up and out of the grass. It was a book. She held it in her hands firmly and her cheeks turned pale as she opened up the first page. She leant back against the tree as the others approached.
"Pride and Prejudice," Laszlo whispered.
"Austen," Sara said.
"I…I bought it for her…she was thirteen and we read it together," Laszlo said. He rarely read fictional works, but Charlotte had persuaded him to read the book, claiming that it was a masterpiece. They had discussed it afterwards, Elizabeth watching them with a knowing smile over her own copy of Sense and Sensibility.
"Look," Elizabeth said, her voice shaking. "It's her, Laszlo. It's our daughter…"
Looking into the first page, he knew this wasn't the copy he had bought her. He had written a message on the first page for her birthday, this copy had no such message. But the writing on it was hers.
Elizabeth and Laszlo…I'm alive…I'm sorry. She's keeping me locked up somewhere with a basement. I can only hear seagulls. I don't know where I am, but I'm sorry. I love you both so much…and Lucy and Emily. I'm sorry.
"Oh my God," Sara whispered, reading the note as Laszlo looked to his wife and shook his head, tears now streaming down his face.
"I'm sorry," was all that he could say to her. How could he doubt her now? How could he not believe that his daughter was alive and well?
"It's alright," Elizabeth said to him, handing Sara the book as John and Marcus crowded around her. Elizabeth took hold of Laszlo's shoulders, squeezing them tightly and moving her hands up his neck and to his cheeks, her thumbs dabbing away the stray tears that had fallen.
"No, it's not," Laszlo said with a shake of his head. "I doubted you…I didn't believe you and you were right…I was wrong…and cruel…"
"I…it's alright," was all that Elizabeth could say to her husband. "Laszlo, it's fine."
"I'm sorry," Laszlo said to her.
"No, you were just worried for me," Elizabeth said, forgetting all of their previous arguments. She didn't want to dwell on them any longer. "I can see that, Laszlo. I can understand it. You didn't see her like I did, but now you know. There is no doubt. Our daughter is alive."
Laszlo nodded his head and let Elizabeth squeeze his shoulders once more before looking to the others, Laszlo's arm wrapping into hers.
"She said that she can hear seagulls," Elizabeth said.
"She must be near the docks," Sara said. "There are only so many places she can be around there. How do you suggest we find her…lure her out?"
"Of that, I do not have a plan yet," Laszlo confessed.
"Why don't we go to the police? We can show them this?" Elizabeth said, pointing to the book.
"Because they will not listen," Marcus said, folding his arms over his chest. "They will say that could be forged evidence. Or, if they did go in, they would be heavy-handed and that could spook her. It could give her time to escape."
John agreed with that point. "Perhaps it might be for the best if we return to 808 and try to think of a plan together? We can look at maps around the docks and try to work out which houses have basements and are owned by whom."
"Good idea," Sara said.
"We will meet you there," Elizabeth said, sensing that Laszlo was still in shock.
The three of them nodded and left Laszlo with Elizabeth stood by the tree. Looking up to her husband, Elizabeth moved a hand along his tie-covered chest and he glanced to the sky, cloud now covering the sun and the mist having completely disappeared.
"She must be so scared," Laszlo said in a soft whisper.
"She's a brave girl," Elizabeth said to her husband. "She's braver than we give her credit for."
"But still…I can't imagine…" Laszlo trailed off.
"You don't need to imagine," Elizabeth promised her husband with a squeeze of his shoulders. "We're going to find her and we're going to bring her home, Laszlo. She's going to come home and she'll be safe with us."
"I just…I've been a bad husband," Laszlo said with a shake of his head. "And a bad father."
"You are anything but."
"Look how I've treated you over the past few weeks," Laszlo pointed out to her. "I've treated you like you are…well…not as a husband should treat his wife. I should have believed you."
"I don't want you to dwell on that now, Laszlo," Elizabeth said to him. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. You were just worried about me and I understand why you didn't believe me."
"But you're my wife. I should believe you."
"I understand why you didn't," Elizabeth promised him. "And I don't want you to think about that. I want you to move on because the only thing that now matters is finding our daughter…finding Charlotte…"
"But-"
"-No buts," she interrupted him. "Charlotte. We need to find her and bring her home."
Laszlo was about to protest again, wanting to do nothing but apologise. But he knew that Elizabeth would not listen. She had other things on her mind. And so he nodded his head, holding onto his wife's waist as she looked to him.
"Charlotte," he repeated her name and Elizabeth nodded, forcing herself to smile as she reached up to kiss him chastely before leaving hand in hand, knowing that they had to think up a plan to save their daughter.
...
A/N: Thanks to Daydreamerxx for reviewing constantly! It helps keep me motivated. If anyone else is reading then I'd love to know your thoughts! I think there will be about 20 chapters to this story but it depends on if I can keep things going after that with Laszlo and Elizabeth's story!