Sitting by Laszlo's bedside, Elizabeth's hands were still shaking. She looked down to them, seeing that they were covered in blood, her coat and dress completely soaked in Laszlo's blood as well. Her husband was laid on the hospital bed in front of her, his eyes closed, head resting on a pillow. His hair was a mess on the top of his head and his lips were slightly parted as he took short breaths.

"I need you to do this, Elizabeth," his voice had been so strong despite the situation as he heard Sara's voice in the distance shouting their names. "We don't have much time and I need you to be brave."

She didn't know if she had been brave. She had done everything that Laszlo had asked of her. She had pressed her hands to his stomach, taking his jacket and letting her shaking hands fold it into a ball. She had pressed down onto the wound, Laszlo telling her that she had to stem the bleeding for as long as possible until they reached the hospital.

She hadn't let go of the jacket all the way to the hospital and a skilled nurse took over just as Laszlo's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he found himself falling unconscious. They had taken him in for surgery, telling Elizabeth they had to see what damage the bullet had done. She had paced outside the room, Sara with her and watching her. The tips of her hair were dried with Laszlo's blood, her outfit completely ruined and specks of it on her forehead and cheek.

"Please wake up, Laszlo," Elizabeth whispered, looking to her husband in front of her as Sara stood in the doorway, giving her the privacy that she needed. "I can't do this without you…I can't go on without you…please…"

Sara remained where she was before she heard footsteps approaching. Turning her head over her shoulder, she saw John approaching, a bag in his hands and his eyes wide with concern, cheeks tinged red.

"How is he?" he asked as soon as he was in front of Sara.

"They removed the bullet. It…they said something about repairing blood vessel and his stomach…the shot…they said that he might be lucky, but it depends on how much blood he has lost and if they have managed to operate in time. We got here as soon as we could and Elizabeth…she never stopped trying to stem the bleeding. Laszlo told her what she had to do."

"My God," John whispered, clearly in shock.

"It's a waiting game, but I know that she isn't going to leave his side," Sara said confidently. "But Charlotte is still out there on a train down to Florida and Rebecca…I gave her address to Mitsy so I hope she has found her. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave her alone here."

"You did what you had to," John said. "I stopped by his house and picked up clean clothes as you asked me to when you called. Diana said that she will look after Lucy and Emily. She will tell them nothing until we are certain about what is happening."

"I don't know how long that will take," Sara confessed and John looked into the room.

"I can stay if you want to go and look for Charlotte."

"I will go in a minute…let me just help Elizabeth," Sara said and she took the bag from John. Moving into the room, she laid her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and told her to come with her for a moment while Laszlo slept. Elizabeth began fretting, but she followed Sara after a few moments, letting her lead her to the bathroom down the corridor.

She didn't particularly care for decency as Sara helped her undress, tossing her blooded clothes onto a pile until she was stood there in just her corset and chemise. She poured water into the sink and wiped the blood from Elizabeth's face and neck, fingers running along the top of her chest and ensuring she got rid of every single speck. She helped Elizabeth dress, tightening the strings to her corset before then and letting her shrug into a clean gown and helping her with that.

"Charlotte," Elizabeth said as Sara tugged a brush through her hair, helping to get rid of the sticky dried blood. "I need to get her back."

"Let me work on that," Sara said to her. "I can see where the train to Florida was stopping and alert authorities to see if they have seen anyone who looked like them."

"I should have known she was lying," Elizabeth whispered. "I should never have gone there because I should have known and now…Laszlo…"

"Sh," Sara said, shaking her head at her and not wanting her to get worked up. It wouldn't help her now. It wouldn't bring Charlotte back and it wouldn't help Laszlo. It would only make Elizabeth worse. Biting down on her bottom lip, Elizabeth allowed Sara to hold onto her, letting her cry for as long as she needed to. She had done particularly well all night, refusing to break down and cry as she did her best to save Laszlo.

Sara finally let go of her when she was confident that she was able to stand on her own two feet. Elizabeth shakily remained where she was, Sara tidying up the dirtied clothes and stuffing them into the bag. Checking her reflection in the mirror, Elizabeth pushed her hair behind her ears, looking at the damp strands. Her cheeks were red and puffy, her eyes wet and stinging. Splashing cold water on her face, she straightened herself out and pushed at the skirts to the dress before leaving with Sara to return back to Laszlo's bedside.

She took the seat she had made her own and sat next to him, her fingers going to his hair and her fingers running through his thick locks. She let her fingers dance down to his cheek as she remained hunched over his bedside.

"Come on, Laszlo," she encouraged from him. "Just wake up. Come back to me."

…

"You can stop sulking, Charlotte. It is quite unbecoming."

Charlotte had been uncontrollable ever since the train had left New York. She had wanted to do nothing more than get off of it, but her mother had blocked her way. Charlotte had spent months with her mother, getting to know her and believing her lies. She had believed everything that she told her, even after she had seen the coat in the newspaper that belonged to the little girl who had been murdered. Her mother had assured her that it had not been her who had done it. How could it have been her? And Charlotte had believed her.

She had believed her until she had found the box containing the newspaper cuttings of the murders and the trinkets her mother had kept as souvenirs. She had tried to escape. She had confronted her and demanded to know what they were, but her mother had kept her in the house. She was a strong woman, much to Charlotte's dismay. She had kept her chained to the bed and told her everything.

She told her how she had murdered those girls because she felt as though she was doing the right thing. Her elder sister had taken everything from her and she was punishing others for that. She was killing elder siblings because of what Alison had done to her.

"You shot Laszlo," Charlotte said.

She had finally settled down once they had arrived at their next destination. Charlotte had followed her mother to the hotel they were staying in until they moved on again. Beatrice was sat on her bed, counting the money from the bag with a wide smile on her face.

"That alienist would have stopped you from coming with me," Beatrice said to her daughter. "He was a menace and he had to be stopped…and his wife…did you see how she chose him over you? How she fell to his side rather than trying to get you back?"

"Elizabeth did nothing wrong," Charlotte said, defending her and longing to be back with her. She had acted like an adult when she had been with her, but now all she wanted was to feel like a child. She wanted to be back at home with Elizabeth and Laszlo. She wanted to look after Lucy and Emily.

"You'll forget about them soon enough," Beatrice promised her, looking up from the case of money. "When we're on a ship away from here then you'll forget about them. We can make a new life for ourselves in Europe like we planned to."

Charlotte shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes and falling down her cheek as she did her best to comprehend what she was hearing. She didn't want this. She didn't want any of this.

"That was before I realised the truth," Charlotte spat back, her dress twisting around her legs as she stood up on her shaking feet. The red material caught there, her hair a mess around the top of her head and her face red with anger and sorrow. "Before I knew what you were."

"You are my daughter," Beatrice said to her. "You are the only one who can stop me from giving into the urges that I feel."

"You're a murderer," Charlotte said. "You're a murderer and you lied to me about everything…"

"No, not everything," Beatrice said, also standing up and ensuring she was stood in the way of the door to ensure Charlotte didn't run away from her. "I told you the truth about my sister and how she took you from me, but Elizabeth and Laszlo…I had to tell you what I did so that you came with me. I was desperate, Charlotte, and they couldn't love you like I do."

"You think this is love?" Charlotte demanded to know from her.

"Of course it is," Beatrice said. "And you will see that soon enough. They would never love you as much as they love their own children…their real children…you would have found that out soon enough. I have saved you from that pain."

"You're wrong," Charlotte shook her head. "I know that they love me and I love them. I want to go home. Please. I want to go back to them."

"That's not an option, Charlotte," Beatrice said firmly to her and Charlotte looked to the door. She could run. She could try and escape and yell for help. The police would have to come and arrest her mother. They would have no choice. "Don't even think about it," Beatrice warned her, seeing that she was looking at the door. "You know what I'll do, Charlotte. You know that I won't be able to stop myself without you. I just need you. I need to be your mother."

Charlotte wanted to shake her head. She wanted to yell at her and tell her that Elizabeth was her mother. She wanted to tell her that she was the woman who had given her all of the love she needed. And Charlotte had thrown it back in her face.

"Do you think that she would want you back?" Beatrice continued to ask her. "You ran away from her…the way you treated her and Laszlo…do you think that she can truly forgive you, especially if her husband dies?"

"He's not going to die."

"I wouldn't sound so certain of that," Beatrice warned her. "You pushed them away-"

"-Because of the lies you told me!"

"And you were so willing to believe those lies. You were so willing to turn against them. All it took was me persuading you."

Charlotte shook her head. She couldn't believe what she had done. She couldn't believe that she had believed Beatrice over Elizabeth. But she had. She had believed everything she had said after weeks of Beatrice breaking her down, showing her evidence that she was in fact her daughter, persuading her that Alison, the woman who claimed to be her mother, was in fact her aunt. And how could Charlotte argue with the evidence? And then her mother had shown her the newspaper clippings about Elizabeth, speculating on how she had killed her husband, about how her marriage to Laszlo was the result of their extra-marital affair.

Elizabeth had never wanted to hide things from Charlotte. She knew that her ex-husband used to beat her, but she said that his death had been an accident. Charlotte was at the stage where she didn't know what to believe. She didn't know who was telling her the truth or who was lying to her. Everything she had believed had changed.

"You made your choice, Charlotte, and you chose me," Beatrice said, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "That has to tell you something. It has to tell you that we belong together in doing this. You're my daughter and I'm not letting you go again."

Charlotte remained mute, weighing up her options as her mother squeezed her upper arm and she felt sick, longing to get away from the woman as soon as possible but wondering if there truly was a home for her to go back to.

…

Laszlo had been in hospital for a day before he opened his eyes and woke up, peering down onto his abdomen and seeing that it had been wrapped up in a bandage. Elizabeth was by his side, sat back in a wooden chair with her eyes closed. Looking to her, he knew that she couldn't be comfortable, but he suspected she hadn't moved since he had been brought in. He could vaguely remember her being with him until he slipped into unconsciousness.

She had fussed around him as soon as he woke up, fetching for a nurse to check him over. She told him how he had been lucky that the bullet had missed his major organs and they had been able to perform surgery quickly. Laszlo didn't feel lucky, but he knew he was. He was tired and his body ached, even his arm was causing him more pain than usual.

Elizabeth had brought Lucy and Emily to see him, tell them how their father was fine, but he was just ill. They didn't need to know about the shooting. Laszlo had managed to sit up in bed and hold Lucy to his side, an arm wrapped around her as Emily wanted to climb all over him, but Elizabeth held her back.

"Do you think that you can sit up?" Elizabeth questioned from Laszlo.

They had brought him back home, but he was on strict orders to rest for the time being. He was only to begin exercising when he was sufficiently healed. He was managing to hobble around the house, relying even more than usual on his cane and Elizabeth hovering around him.

"I am not tired just yet," Laszlo said to her.

"I'm surprised, you've done far too much today and you should be tired," she warned him.

Laszlo shrugged. "I wanted to try and move around," he said to his wife.

He had spent the day with Lucy and Emily while Elizabeth ran errands. Diana had been on hand to help, Elizabeth asking her to make sure he did nothing too strenuous. She had gone to visit Sara, asking how Rebecca was after the little girl had been discovered. She had asked about Charlotte, but so far there had been no sighting of her. Elizabeth was beginning to lose faith. If she had left New York then she could be anywhere. But she told herself that she couldn't give up on her. Charlotte needed her and she would do what she could to bring her back.

"And I want you to heal," Elizabeth said, unbuttoning his shirt for him considering he was struggling with such a simple task. "And you're not going to heal if you do too much at once."

"On the contrary, I need to do something or I might go mad with worry," Laszlo said.

He was sat on the edge of the bed, his wife pushing his shirt down his arms and letting it fall behind him.

"There's been no news," Elizabeth said to her husband. "I don't know what more I can do. I can hardly run around looking for her…she could be anywhere by now."

"She is a smart girl," Laszlo said as Elizabeth reached for the end of his bandage. She took hold of it, unwinding it around his body to reveal his bare skin. She finally finished and looked at the scarring on the side of his stomach.

"She is," Charlotte said, "but Beatrice is deranged."

"I know," Laszlo said. He could hardly deny it. "Just have some faith that she will be able to do this, Elizabeth, that we will find her."

"I do," Elizabeth said to him. "I just feel so useless."

"Imagine how I feel," Laszlo said as she cleaned the wound, grateful to see that it was healing and just becoming a scar. She let her fingers dance over it softly with the cloth as Laszlo winced for a moment, but didn't complain verbally.

"You were shot, Laszlo," Elizabeth said to him. "You're not useless."

"I am if I cannot leave this house," Laszlo said to her. "I cannot even undress myself."

"You rarely complain when I undress you," Elizabeth said to him, looking up at him and he could see that she was trying to make him feel better about everything. Her lips arched, but they hardly reached her eyes and there wasn't the usual glimmer in her eye whenever she teased him. He managed to offer a smile back to her.

"Because usually I can return the favour," he replied.

"You're going to have to wait for that because you can do nothing too strenuous."

"It would hardly be strenuous if you did all the work," Laszlo responded.

"You would be so lucky," Elizabeth retorted and began to bandage him up again, moving the material around his midriff and making sure it was tight, but not too tight. Laszlo looked down it, knowing that Elizabeth was worrying about everything, just as he was. He would catch her staring at his bandage sometimes and he knew what she was thinking. He would tell her that he was still here and that she wouldn't be getting rid of him so easily.

"I suppose so," Laszlo answered back to her as he moved his arms and allowed her to help him into his pyjama shirt.

"You should get some sleep," Elizabeth said to him, helping him with his trousers and changing into his pyjama bottoms. He slipped them onto his legs as he stood up and then sank back down, Elizabeth fluffing up the pillows behind him and allowing him to rest against them.

"I'm not tired," Laszlo said to her. "And I see you are not ready for bed."

"I was going to go and tidy up downstairs," Elizabeth said to him. "Diana is out with her lawyer and I didn't want her to do it before she left."

"Can it not wait until tomorrow?" Laszlo questioned.

"It could, but I will do it now to save me a job in the morning," Elizabeth said. "Emily and Lucy are in bed and fast asleep…and you need sleep too. Perhaps try reading a book and it will help you?"

"I can come back downstairs and help you."

"Don't you dare even think about moving," Elizabeth warned him before he could do anything and she pulled the covers up to his lap.

"That sounded like a threat," Laszlo said in a mutter.

"Oh, it was," Elizabeth said. "If you even think about moving from this bed then you'll have to deal with me."

"And I endeavour not to upset my wife."

"As you should," Elizabeth said and bent down to kiss him softly, holding onto his bearded cheek and feeling his lips move over hers. Pulling back, she gave him one final peck before standing up straight and leaving the room, giving him one last demand not to move.

She headed down the stairs, checking on Lucy and Emily on her way. She moved around the foyer and tided up the glasses, plates and other things that had been left strewn around. She took her time, checking the clock after a while that informed her it had gone past eleven at night. She was in the process of turning the lights off when she heard the sudden knock on the door.

Elizabeth's brows furrowed and she wondered who it could possibly be so late at night.

"Elizabeth! Do not answer it!"

She heard Laszlo yell from upstairs as she stood in the hallway and looked through the glass. She could also hear thudding from upstairs and she knew that Laszlo was trying to get up and out of bed. But she ignored him as she moved to the door, the banging continuing.

"Elizabeth!" Laszlo continued shouting his wife's name.

Unlocking the door, Elizabeth's eyes widened as she stumbled forwards and pushed the door open. Moving through to the porch, she unlocked the outside door and wanted to burst into tears at the sight of her. She was stood there, her red gown ripped and her hair unkempt. The gown was low on her chest, much too big for her and she had constantly had to pull it up despite tightening the strings as much as she could. Her cheekbones were more prominent than before, with her collarbone showing and her waist pinched in. Elizabeth knew she looked a mess. She looked a sight and she looked so unkempt. But she didn't care. She just wanted her.

Placing a hand over her mouth, Elizabeth stepped forwards and the girl looked up to her.

"I'm sorry," she blubbered, tears falling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth took the final step and enveloped Charlotte into her arms as Laszlo appeared in the doorway, seeing the young girl wrap her arms around Elizabeth, burrowing against her neck and feeling a sense of security. They continued crying with each other as Laszlo's lips arched sadly, his own eyes watering before Charlotte looked up and saw him, Elizabeth keeping an arm around her.

"Laszlo," she blurted his name out. "I'm…I'm so sorry…you…"

"I will be fine," Laszlo promised her. "But I am more than fine now that you are back home with us."

"You still want me?" Charlotte asked from him and he stood in front of her, a hand going to her cheek.

"We will always want you," he promised her. "Never doubt that."

Charlotte managed to hold onto him and he ignored the pain in his side as he looked down to the top of her head, feeling her press her face against his neck and he looked up and over to Elizabeth, nodding once in contentment that his family was all together again.

…

Elizabeth and Laszlo had sat in the parlour after their tears had dried up. Sitting on the couch, Elizabeth sat one side of Charlotte while Laszlo sat the other side and they listened to her tell them about everything that had happened. She told them how her mother had told her lies about why they had adopted her and she apologised for believing her. She didn't think that she had sorry as much as she had done, but every other word seemed to be just that.

"She said that when I faked my death then we could get away, but she was saving up for money for a ship to take us to England," Charlotte said. "I didn't want to go because I'd found out the truth. I knew that she had lied to me and what she had done to those girls before."

"We found everything in the house," Laszlo said to her. "And her sister, Rose, she told us everything…about how Alison had taken you…raised you as her own."

Charlotte nodded. She had been told as much too. "I managed to escape one evening and I came back here, but you…I saw the carriage on the road and I knew where you were going because you were dressed nicely. I found you at Delmonico's and I…I wanted to come to you…but I remembered what she said."

"It was you," Elizabeth said and guilt ate up at Laszlo for a few moments as he recalled the weeks of anguish that had come between them. "I followed you. I came after you."

"I know," Charlotte said. "But I couldn't stay. She…she had warned me that if I left then she wouldn't stop killing…that she would come for Lucy and Emily too and I was scared. I'd seen what she had done and I was so scared, Elizabeth. I just didn't know what to do."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I can only imagine," she said to her in a soft vice. And even then, she didn't want to imagine.

"And then I was too scared to leave her, but she…she scares me so much and I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to make her stop, but I couldn't stay with her. I didn't want to stay with her and so I…"

Charlotte trailed off, tears falling down her face and her cheeks aching as she struggled to compose her breathing. She was doing everything possible not to break down, but she was on the verge. She could still remember leaving her there, seeing the blood trickling from her head and onto the beige carpet. She had ran away. She had fled.

"What is it?" Laszlo asked and she looked to him and he saw the fear there. He continued watching her. Something had to have happened. She was here, despite having been scared of leaving her mother before. "Charlotte, you can tell us anything."

"Laszlo is right," Elizabeth promised her, brushing the girl's hair over her shoulder and pulling the blanket she had draped over her tighter around her shoulders.

"I knew she wouldn't stop," Charlotte blabbered, her throat clenching and her voice hoarse as she tried to fight back the tears. "I knew that I had to get away and she…she kept telling me that you wouldn't want me…that you would hate me…and if I left then she'd find you and hurt you or someone else. I…I was angry and scared. I just wanted her to leave us alone."

"What did you do?" Laszlo asked, his own heart racing as Charlotte remembered the weight of the lamp in her hands as she pulled it from the bedside table. She remembered how she had held it in the air and then brought it down with such force.

She could remember the noise of it clashing with her mother's skull as the woman fell to the ground. She had dropped it then, hands shaking and adrenaline coursing through her. She should have called the police. She should have gone for help.

But instead, she had left her mother in the hotel room in Philadelphia. She had taken some of the money and she had ran back home. She had ran back to Elizabeth and Laszlo because she didn't know where else to go.

"Charlotte, darling, talk to us," Elizabeth pleaded.

She had gone completely quiet and Laszlo looked to his wife and then back to Charlotte. He had his suspicions. They were only concerned when he looked at Charlotte and he nodded his head once, a hand going to hold onto hers and squeezing tightly, silently assuring her that it was fine. He would ensure that it would be fine.

"I know," Laszlo said in a soft promise with a nod of his head.

She broke down then and nestled closer to him as she spoke and Elizabeth saw him manage to wrap his arm around her as Elizabeth kept hold of her shoulder, leaning towards her as she heard her sob.

"I killed her," Charlotte cried. "I…I killed her."

…

A/N: I don't know if anyone is still reading, but if you are then I'd love to know your thoughts!