Elizabeth had stayed away from her mother and father that evening. Her father had been in a foul mood when he had returned home and she had done everything in her power to stay out of his way. He had muttered something about having an argument with Jackson and she wondered what had happened. She had told him about Emily and he had gone to the bedroom to talk to her. Elizabeth had heard their voices, trying to block them out as she remained curled in a ball in the chair, rocking back and forth and taking deep breaths.

Was this to be the end? Was her mother able to be saved? Could Elizabeth be the one to save her? She wanted to. She longed to help her, but she just did not know. She did not understand what her mother was going through or what she was feeling. Everyone in the Reid household was filled with guilt, but Elizabeth did not quite comprehend how they left the pit they were trapped in.

Edmund returned back to the sitting room after a few more minutes and he looked to his daughter. "Come along," he urged from her. "We need some fresh air."

Elizabeth nodded and uncurled herself from the ball she was in. She went to fetch her coat as Edmund grabbed his own and then placed his hat on top of his head. He held the front door open for her and she stepped outside, Edmund following behind her. The sun had dropped down beyond the skyline and the night air was turning cold. Edmund held his arm out and Elizabeth took hold of it. They walked in silence towards the usual route that his daughter enjoyed walking.

Once they were along the banks of the Thames, the sun had completely set. There were still people out walking, no doubt some looking to begin their night time activities.

"What did she say?" Elizabeth asked from her father.

"She…you are right," Edmund said to her. "What you say is correct, Elizabeth. She is not well and she believes that Mathilda comes to her."

"What do we do?" Elizabeth wondered from her father. "How can we bring her back? How can we make her see the truth?"

Edmund sighed and looked down to his daughter, seeing how her gaze was set on the river, her eyes wide and almost wet. No doubt she had been trying to hold back the tears for a while. "We cannot, I fear," Edmund said, his voice almost breaking at that. He bowed his head and she looked up to him. His gaze met hers. "Elizabeth, it is my job to help her. She is my wife."

"But she is also my mother and I want to help her too," Elizabeth retorted and Edmund took a deep breath. He nodded his head and went to sit down on the bench in the trees. Elizabeth perched down next to him, one leg folded over the other. "Father, is there no one who she can talk to? Can we not find her a doctor?"

"Do you think that a doctor would help?" Edmund questioned.

"I do not know," she responded, "but we need to try something, do we not?"

"Perhaps," Edmund said to her.

Elizabeth huffed and looked to the sky for a moment, her gaze setting on the clouds that were forming. "Father," she complained to him, still looking upwards. "There is no perhaps. Please, let us just see what there is…how we can help her…"

"I will," he promised her. "Elizabeth, leave this to me. I will see what it is that I can do. I would ask Jackson for advice, but we are not exactly on speaking terms as things currently stand."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked. "What happened?"

Edmund leant back on the seat, lacing his hands together on his stomach and closing his eyes for a moment. "Susan was involved with the murder. She had cast Lucy out before when she was pregnant about two years ago and she could not take her back because she was still pregnant. She went to the house and she killed the man there when she heard rowing," he said. "I accused Jackson of knowing what she had done and he claimed his innocence, but he…I told him about holding secrets…how it is not possible that he can be an honest man if he held secrets. But then he brought up Mathilda…not her name…but what happened. He accused me of keeping secrets about her disappearance and I threatened him. I warned him that he was not to speak her name or discuss what had happened."

Elizabeth sighed. She knew that her father had a temper. She was well aware of his rage. She had seen it herself when she had been in trouble with him and she had heard about it from Bennet when he was at work.

"It was just an argument," Elizabeth said to her father. "You should put it to one side."

"I know," Reid responded. "I know that I lashed out. I know that it went too far, but he…there are a lot of thoughts running through my mind and I do not know how to remove them or how to solve them."

Elizabeth let out a gentle sigh. "Father, you cannot do that," she urged from him. "Please, do not bottle things up from me. Do not do that…because…mother does it…and I…I do not want you to do it either. I do not want us to have secrets."

Edmund smiled sadly at that and he reached to take hold of her hand. He squeezed it tightly and then kissed her on the forehead. "I will not," he said, but he was not entirely certain if that was a promise he could keep. Instead he found himself perched on the bench and thinking about just what was happening in his life and to his family.

"But Susan…" Elizabeth said, broaching the waters and Edmund peered down to her with an arched brow. "She must have killed that man for a reason? He was yelling and threatening that woman with Lucy. So what did he want? Is it not worth looking into?"

Edmund chuckled. "You are quite the inquisitive little thing, my darling," he acknowledged. "I have Bennet looking into what is happening. You do not need to worry about that. I will do what I can to solve this."

"And Susan?"

"What about her?" Edmund questioned.

"Well, you just said that she cast her out two years ago," Elizabeth said. "And one of the children we took to the orphanage was almost two, would you not say? And what if the child she carries now has the same father? And…that was why that man was there threatening her?"

Edmund frowned and nodded his head. He suspected that she had a point about that. But it could just be coincidence. Who was to say that it had to be anything else? She was not certain, but perhaps it was something that was worth investigating.

"I shall look into this," Edmund said. "Now come along, I need to return you home before it is too late."

Edmund stood up and Elizabeth followed him, taking hold of his arm once more.

…

Edward listened to Elizabeth with intent as they walked through the streets of Whitechapel together. He had purchased her a hot potato and she had taken bites of it, feeding him some of it from the fork.

"You think that she has a man who visits her?" he asked her.

"I think that it would make sense," Elizabeth responded. "I think that there is a man who insists on seeing her…has managed to impregnate her…but wants that to be kept a secret. And if that is so then how is he visiting her? Is he seeing her at Miss Susan's brothel or does he know how he can get to her while she is in the hospital?"

"I do not know," he responded, taking a bite of the potato, butter dripping down his chin. She wiped it from him with her thumb and he smiled down to her, bending down and kissing her chastely, arm entwined with him.

"It is very confusing," Elizabeth said. "I do not even know where to begin or who to question about this. I mean, who could be a suspect in all of this?"

"I would not know," Edward repeated to her. She finished her potato and Edward placed the remnants onto a rubbish pile. "And so what would that mean?"

"Hmm?" Elizabeth questioned him, tipping her head up to look at his chiselled jaw.

"Well, what does it mean for your investigation?" he asked. "Or, should I be more accurate, your father's investigation?"

"I do not know," she said to him. "All that I know is that I am now stumped as to what is happening. I mean, the man who has been with Lucy could be anyone. It could be anyone…"

"Have you ever thought about doing this for a living?" Edward questioned from her.

"What?" she asked him back. "Become a detective? It is hardly a woman's place, is it?"

"Well, no, but it is something that you appear to be quite good at doing," he responded to her. "Besides, why would that be such a bad thing, my love? You could help out behind the scenes. You could be the brains behind this venture."

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. "I do not think my father would see it that way. Besides, I have to help my mother first. I have to try and do something to her before I lose her and that…well…it scares me, Edward. I do not want to lose her. I just want her to be back with us as the woman I knew."

"What I am about to say," Edward said, his voice low and soft, "I know that it is controversial and I know that it is not something that you might entertain, but perhaps the help she needs is…well…not help that you are able to give to her."

"Edward, do not even suggest that."

"What did you think might happen, my darling?" he questioned from her. "She claims to see your deceased sister-"

"-We do not know she is deceased," Elizabeth interrupted him, her voice stern and demanding. She glowered at him and stood still in the middle of the street, looking up to him. "I know that my mother needs help, but I am not discussing carting her off to an asylum!"

"Darling, they can help-"

"-No," Elizabeth interrupted, her voice firm and she shook her head at him. She refused to engage with this conversation. Instead she dropped his arm from hers and glared at him. She shook her head firmly and she refused to believe what she was hearing from him. She went to grab hold of her skirts and lifted them up, rushing off and away from Edward, huffing loudly on her way. Edward called after her, but she did not respond. Instead she ignored him and kept going.

….

Edmund sighed as he finished conversing with his wife about how to help Lucy. He had asked her if there was somewhere safe for her to go. She had told him of her women's shelter and urged for him to bring her there the following day. He had sent word for her children to be returned to her. He was grateful that the case had been solved. His daughter walked into the house as he came down the stairs and he spoke to her.

"It was Stanley Bone. He was the one who Lucy laid with and he was the one who had stolen the children from the orphanage. Crabbe, who runs the orphanage, gave Lucy to him. He gave her to him for him to use…for him to do with as he pleased and he intended to erase her memories."

Elizabeth's cheeks were flushed as he looked to her father and tugged her gloves from her fingers, stuffing them into the pocket of her coat. Arching her brows, she shrugged from her coat. "And how, do tell, was he going to erase her memories?"

"A lobotomy," Edmund said and Elizabeth's face wrinkled up at the sound of that. He nodded his head, agreeing with her expression. "We are to take her to the women's shelter tomorrow where she will be reunited with her children if you should like to join?"

"Perhaps so," she nodded to him.

"What is wrong?" he questioned from her, sensing that there was something amiss. She had a distant look in her gaze. "You appear troubled."

"It is nothing," she lied to him, shaking her head.

She went to pass by to move into the kitchen as she heard her mother tread around upstairs. Edmund gripped hold of her forearm, stopping her from going as she hung her coat up on her way. He looked down to her and she looked down to the ground, refusing to meet his gaze.

"What is it?" he questioned her once more.

"I had a fight," she mumbled. "Edward…he suggested something that I did not particularly like."

Edmund's eyes widened and his nostrils flared at her words. His grip on her arm increased and he sniffed, looking at her intensely. "What did he say to you? Did he try to force himself onto you-"

"-No!" Elizabeth interrupted before her father could get the wrong end of the stick. "No, he would never do anything like that."

"Then what did he do? I will see to it that I sort him out," Edmund promised his daughter, but she shook her head.

"Elizabeth!" her mother's voice called from upstairs. "Come up here. Help me change your bedding."

"Just give me a minute!" Elizabeth shouted back up. "I just need to ask father something."

She moved her father's hand from her arm and instead took hold of his. She moved through to the kitchen and Edmund followed her. She let go of him and closed the door behind him, making sure she was quiet. Leaning against it, her hands went behind her back and laid flat on the wood. Edmund waited patiently, hands on his hips and pushing his jacket back.

"Edward wondered if mother needed more help than a doctor could offer…he…he asked about an asylum," she whispered in a low voice.

She had expected her father to begin yelling. She expected him to demand to pass by her so that he could go and speak to Edward. But he was silent. Instead he said nothing and looked guiltily to the side. Elizabeth's brows knitted together and she peered over to him.

"Are you not intending to say anything?" she wondered from him.

"I…I know that you are courting this boy," Edmund informed her. "I know that you perhaps love him, but I would suspect that it might be best if you do not speak about your mother to him."

"Are you not upset with his suggestion?"

"His suggestion is not required," was all that Edmund could say and Elizabeth shook her head. "But I have been worrying about the future for your mother if a doctor's words cannot help her. I…I do not want that for her. I want her here and I want her safe with us, but I fear that we might not be enough."

Elizabeth's stomach churned. She shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Unbelievable," she whispered, gasping for a deep breath. "How can you even say that?"

"Elizabeth!" her mother shouted again.

"Elizabeth, darling-"

Edmund could not finish for his daughter was already running up the stairs and away from him in the kitchen. He sighed and took a moment to gather his thoughts before he followed her up the stairs, needing to talk to her. He paused in the hallway, listening as his wife spoke to his daughter.

"Mathilda told me that she misses you. She asked me if you are still courting that boy."

"Mother, Mathilda is not here," Elizabeth responded, voice terse as Edmund heard the ruffling of sheets and he leant against the wall, keeping silent.

"Do not be silly," Emily responded. "Mathilda knew that you would be this way."

"Mother," Elizabeth tried again, "come here, just for a moment."

There was silence and Edmund suspected that he heard them sit down on the bed as sheets ruffled.

"Mother, you have been scaring me," Elizabeth said to Emily, her voice gentle and low. "I know that you think that Mathilda is talking to her, but she is not. Mother, she is not here…I do not know where she is, but you do not see her and I think that perhaps you need to talk to someone…someone who might be able to help."

Silence settled around them, but then Emily's shrill voice.

"You think me insane?" she snapped loudly.

"No, of course not," Elizabeth quickly spoke. "But I just think that it might help to talk to a doctor…ask him if this is an ailment of some kind."

"I know what I see," Emily snapped again and the floorboards creaked. No doubt she had stood up. "And I know that my Mathilda comes to me and talks to me. You…why can you not be more like her? Why can you not be as loving and understanding as she is?"

"Mother-"

"-You always doubt me," Emily interrupted. "I do not even know who you are sometimes…not that sweet little girl I raised. You have become stubborn, just like your father."

Edmund moved then before either of them could say anything that they regretted, but Elizabeth was already yelling back at her mother.

"And what about me?" Elizabeth demanded. "Do you not think that I do not hurt too? I miss Mathilda just as you do, but this is not fair. What you are doing is not fair. Mathilda is not here, but I am. I am here and I still need you."

"Why? You have always wanted to act so grown up, sneaking out with boys-"

"-What is going on up here?" Edmund demanded, standing in the doorway and looking between the two women. "There is no need for this yelling."

"Ask your daughter," Emily said, looking down her nose to Elizabeth as she slumped back to sit on her bed.

"I am your daughter too," Elizabeth retorted.

Emily said nothing. Instead, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the bedroom. "I am going out. Do not follow me."

Edmund knew better than to chase after Emily when she was angry. He remained stood in the doorway as Elizabeth sat in silence. She heard the door slam and then laid down, stuffing a hand under her pillow. Edmund sighed at the sight of her back and cautiously moved into her bedroom, perching on the side of her bed and resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I will sort this," Edmund promised her, seeing the tears fall down her cheek and onto her pillow. "I assure you, Elizabeth, that I will sort this."

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!