Edmund had solved the case of the stolen gemstones with the help of Bennet and Drake. He was now facing a new issue, mainly the strikes that were taking place. There were times when he wondered if he would ever have a quiet day, but it seemed that was never going to happen. What made matters even worse was the fact that this daughter was constantly with Edward now that he had moved into their home after his parents had disowned him. Edmund had done his best not to be too over-protective, but he often found himself looking at Edward when he was staring at his daughter, a look of adoration in his gaze.

He had taken the guest bedroom next to Elizabeth's bedroom, the two of them knowing that there would be no chance of them getting any closer than that while Elizabeth's parents were around. But once Edmund had gone to work and Emily to the shelter, Edward would sneak into her room if he was not working, climbing under the covers with her and languishing in being by her side and waking her up.

"Mother," Elizabeth called out for her mother as she returned home after helping Deborah Goren earlier that morning. Edmund had gone to work early, stating that he had enough work on his plate with the strikes. Edward was also out studying.

He had come to the agreement with Edmund that he would pay him back for covering the rest of his tuition when he started working. He knew that it wouldn't be long before he had his own job. He kept thinking of what it was he would do then. Elizabeth was a young woman, but in a couple of year's time he had hoped that she would think about the future a bit more. Or, more accurately, she would think about marriage to him.

"Mother!" Elizabeth shouted again and she climbed the steps when she heard a sudden rustling.

Coming to the landing, Elizabeth looked around, shocked to see that Mathilda's room had the door open. Her footsteps slowed as she heard the front door bang once more and her father's voice called out for her mother. She had just beaten him home.

"Mother, are you well?" Elizabeth asked, stepping into the room and seeing her mother sat on the bed. All of Mathilda's things were still in her room as they had been when she had disappeared. Nothing had been moved. Elizabeth would sometimes go into the room and dust, uncertain why she did it.

She didn't know if Mathilda would come home, but she had given up hope a long time ago, unlike her mother and father. Edmund rarely spoke of Mathilda, but he still believed that she might be there out there so long as there was no body found. Emily, on the other hand, had accepted her daughter had gone. But she thought that she saw her. She thought that she had found her by going to church. Elizabeth didn't believe that in the slightest, but she was so weary about how to approach her mother after their numerous arguments.

"How did a bird get in here?" Elizabeth questioned, seeing the creature that was causing the rustling noise.

"Emily? What is it?" Edmund's voice entered the room.

Bennet stood awkwardly in the door, hat in his hand as he spotted the bird and Edmund moved to the window, peeling it open and urging the creature to fly out, a bunch of flowers in his fingertips as Elizabeth wondered if they would make any difference to her mother's mood.

"I'll wait in the parlour," Bennet said and Elizabeth smiled to him as Edmund closed the window.

"I heard a crashing in here. The poor creature had come down the flue," Emily said and Elizabeth looked to the fireplace nodding. "I made to catch it, but then I found myself sitting…looking at her books…her toys…the music box you gave her. I haven't entered this room in a year, Edmund, and I've scarcely seen you all week…you or Elizabeth."

"This strike is taking up all my time, I'm sorry, but I'll be back tonight," Edmund promised Emily as she remained seated on the bed, her eyes distant and her face full of sorrow as Elizabeth looked down to the ground, thinking of what to say to her mother. She didn't want to tell her how she had been avoiding her, uncertain of how to talk to her when she was the way she was. "I bought you these before even the florists down tools."

Emily didn't even take the flowers from his hands. He was left holding them towards her as she looked around, sniffing with her eyes glazed over.

"I want it cleared, Edmund."

"What?" Edmund asked, uncertain of what she was asking from him.

"This room. All of it. I want it cleared," she said firmly and then stood up before sweeping from the room, leaving Elizabeth and Edmund on their own in Mathilda's room.

Elizabeth sunk down onto Mathilda's bed as Edmund dropped the flowers onto the floor. Elizabeth folded one leg over the other and shook her head back and forth, looking to her father in his green striped suit as he sighed and glanced around at all of Mathilda's possessions.

"You can't clear it," Elizabeth whispered to her father. "Please."

"I won't," Edmund promised his daughter. "Not all of it, at least."

"Mother isn't thinking clearly," Elizabeth said to him. "You know that. We both know it."

The front door slammed again and Elizabeth knew that was her mother leaving for church once more. She pushed her hair behind her ears as Edmund sunk down to sit next to her. He turned to look down to her and moved his hand to rest on top of hers, squeezing it firmly as she rested her cheek against his upper arm.

"I will try and find her help," Edmund promised in a whisper. "I know that we cannot go on like this."

Edmund pecked her on the top of her head as he heard a knock on the door and someone call his name. Elizabeth lifted her head up and looked up to her father, nodding her head. "Go," she insisted. "I'll see you when you come home."

…

Edmund had longed to work on a case, but he had been told to stay away. He had found a body had been found in an explosion, but Special Branch were working on it. The bomber's body was in H Division and he had been identified as a man named Bloom who was found to be quite an anarchist that Special Branch were investigating. And Edmund had been told to leave them to it and focus on the strike and the strike alone. Yet, Edmund found himself agreeing with the strikers. They deserved equal pay. But orders came from above that he wanted a strike-breaker to break into the striker's ranks and Drake was the only man he could think of. Monro had ordered him to make Drake do it or arrest him, but Reid had despised threatening Jackson.

"You know that if you want to take some time away then I can cope here for the day," Elizabeth informed Deborah as she stood with her in the kitchen of the orphanage. She knew that Bloom had been close to Deborah. She also knew that Bloom was no bomb maker and she despised his name being tarnished.

"That's very kind of you, Elizabeth, but I am fine here," Deborah said. "I am going to visit Isaac later on this afternoon when Sarah comes in to help. He is still grieving Joshua's death. Has your father made any progress with the case?"

"I am not entirely certain," Elizabeth said to her, cutting up more carrots and placing them into a pan as she looked down on the knife, focusing on the work at hand as she tried not to think about the issues at home. "Father has been working late into the evening so I have not really seen him in the past couple of days."

"I imagine the strikes are keeping him busy too," Deborah declared.

"You imagine right," she said to her.

"And your mother? I saw her at the shelter the other day," Deborah commented.

"Fine," Elizabeth lied. She hardly wanted to admit that things at home were intolerable. She almost pitied Edward for having to live in the same household as them. He would often go to work and come back, listening to Elizabeth's complaints about how her mother was still running to the shelter or arguing with her.

But it was the family's business. It was no one else's business.

"And that gentleman of yours?"

"Edward? He's doing well too," Elizabeth said with a smile. "He's finishing his studies soon enough and hoping to get work at the firm where he is currently. He is really doing very well."

"And you two are serious?"

"Well…I know that I love him, but I am almost seventeen in a few months. I don't know what I want from my life. I had thought about becoming a nurse…training to become a nurse takes some time, but I have been looking into it a bit more."

"Well, you do enjoy looking after the children here," Deborah commented on that point. "I suspect that you would make a fine nurse. You are caring, kind…and you are extremely intelligent. If it is something that you wish to do then I suspect you should go ahead."

"I might," Elizabeth said. And that was her problem. She was so indecisive. She never truly knew what it was she wanted to do in her life. She struggled most of the time. Deborah could see that much.

"And your father? What does he say?"

"I haven't exactly told him," Elizabeth said. "He has enough on his plate with work and mother."

Elizabeth instantly closed her mouth when she realised what she had just said. She bit down on her tongue and looked over to Deborah from the corner of the eye. She must have pretended not to hear her because she didn't say anything. But Deborah knew that the Reids were suffering marriage issues. She knew full well that they had not seen eye-to-eye ever since Mathilda had gone missing. And Deborah had to confess that Inspector Reid was a nice man. She found him quite pleasant and his company when she had spoken with him had been pleasurable.

She almost wondered why it was Emily Reid pushed him away. But she had not lived in their shoes. She had not gone through what they had gone through.

"I should go out and check on the children," Elizabeth said and she headed out of the building, drinking in the fresh air before she spotted the familiar sight of her father approaching the building. She took the steps down to the ground and moved towards her father, knowing what day it was. He had left before she had had a chance to say anything to him.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked her father.

"I need to see Deborah…Ms Goren," he corrected himself as he placed his fingers into the pockets of his waistcoat. "It is about the case. Things are…not particularly great."

"Why is that?" Elizabeth asked and Edmund looked over his daughter, wondering if he should tell her the truth about what had just happened to him in the park when he had been dragged there.

Edmund was confused as to why the driver had taken a different street towards the location where he was going. He called up to him from the hansom he sat in, but he ignored him completely and Reid wondered what it was that was going on. He had been ordered to leave this case alone, but he couldn't. Peter Morris had been identified by Jackson as a man involved with the Russian spies and Edmund was convinced that he had been the one who had killed Bloom. The Russian Embassy had disagreed to help them, Volsky, a Russian Ambassador, warning him how Jews were nothing but radicals who needed crushing. Edmund had been disgusted with his attitude, but he had refused to acknowledge Morris had killed Bloom.

He wondered how someone could be so intolerant, but he knew that Monro would be angry. He would be annoyed with him for refusing to give up the case and he didn't want to because he wanted to bring Morris to justice for the murder of Bloom. He was travelling to the yard to see Monro, having received the news that Morris intended to bomb again as he was at large, using Morris as an alias from his real name: Yevgeny Zotkin. It was on that route when he had been diverted.

Once the hansom had stopped moving, Reid climbed out of it and looked around, wondering what was going on. He soon came to the realisation of understanding when he spotted a man stood across from him outside of his own hansom. Looking to him, Reid's hands went to the pockets of his trousers as he watched him with intrigue.

"I'm Superintended Constantine," the man spoke. He was smaller than Reid with brown hair and beady eyes, a jutting pointed chin and nose. He wore a brow coat and a bowler hat on his head. Another man stood beside him, quiet and dressed not quite as smartly. He was carving a piece of wood as Reid wondered just what was going on. "You wish to talk to me."

"There is a Russian bomber in the city," Reid told the man.

"Mmm," Constantine hummed at that news and lifted a warning hand into the air. "About that. Stay away from Yevgeny Zotkin."

Reid almost looked perplexed for a moment.

"You think we don't know who he is, Reid?" Constantine questioned the Inspector. "That you're ahead of the game? Yes, we know that Zotkin is Peter Morris. When the Russians sent him here, we were wise to it, arrested him."

"So why is he on the loose?"

"Because we made him our agent too, you bloody fool," Constantine said and Reid ground his teeth together as the man looked over the lake in the park, the sound of ducks in the background along with the rustling of wind. "The Russians are right about the anarchists, communists, socialists, all the revolutionary scum. And we share an aim to flush them to gutter."

"Share an aim?" Reid questioned. "Zotkin was sent here to make London burn."

Constantine chuckled and shook his head. "I'm keeping London safer than you know," he said to him, but Reid was in disbelief. "Zotkin has been sending me information from the Embassy. He's on my leash now."

"And who tugged on his leash to make him kill Bloom?"

"He was an anarchist."

"He was a pacifist," Reid spat back.

"He had ideas, Reid, and people listened," Constantine continued. "Ideas are far more dangerous than any bomb."

"You are an accessory to murder and Monro will hear about this."

But then Monro suddenly appeared from the carriage behind them and he climbed out. He told Reid about how he knew about Zotkin. He knew everything about the plan. Monro told him to stay out of the business and have Jackson removed from the striker's ranks and leave the spying to Zotkin. Reid could only listen to Monro in disbelief as he climbed back into the carriage and left him with Constantine once more.

"You're only privy to this because your pitiful attempts at investigation are a hindrance," he said to him as Reid kept his tongue between his teeth, longing to snap back at the man talking to him. "I need not stress the import of discretion."

But Reid was not one to back down. He was a man of the law and he intended to abide that law. And so he looked to Constantine and shook his head. "Go to hell," he said in a controlled voice.

He began to turn, but the man who had been carving the wood grabbed him on the shoulder, keeping him rooted on the spot as Constantine looked to him, speaking in a low and threatening drawl.

"You used to like water, didn't you, Reid? Boats, wasn't it? You and Mathilda," he said and Reid could feel the anger inside of him build up along with the hurt at her name being mentioned. It had been a year to the day since she had disappeared. He looked at Constantine as he kept speaking, clearly trying to goad him. "Such a loss. An innocent girl. An innocent girl who you tried to shield from the world. How well you did to shield her from all its jagged shadows."

Reid remained silent, wondering just what he should say to him. How did he know of any of this? Why was he mentioning it?

"You can never blame yourself, Reid," Constantine continued. "Or Emily…or Elizabeth. Why ever should they have reason to blame you? I take it you do your best to keep her safe now? Your only daughter? Pretty little thing, isn't she?"

"Don't mention her," Reid demanded from him.

"Works at the orphanage, doesn't she? Courting a trainee solicitor. You know, she has such a lovely smile when she's with him."

"You've been watching my daughter?" Reid demanded to know.

"We wouldn't have to, Inspector, if you just did as you were told and stayed away from this case," Constantine said and looked out to the water once more. "So, I take it you know the art of discretion now?"

Edmund could say nothing in response to that. He remained quiet and stoic, trying not to let him see what his words had done. He wasn't going to risk Elizabeth, not for any case. And so he knew what he had to do.

And so he lied to Elizabeth. "I need to tell Ms Goren that I cannot work the case anymore. Bloom's death is being investigated by higher powers."

Elizabeth nodded and studied her father, suspecting he was lying to her. But she didn't push him. "Are you alright?" she asked him.

"I'm fine," he promised her and squeezed her shoulder. "Give me some time with Ms Goren and I will come back out. We can walk home together."

Edmund began to walk by and Elizabeth watched him go. But she stopped him after a moment, calling out to him. "It's been a year," she said to him and Edmund looked over to her, the sorrow clear in his eyes. "Father…it's been a year."

"I know."

"Can we at least talk about it?" Elizabeth asked him. "Mother ignored me this morning when I mentioned it. I just…I miss her even more than usual and it's like I can't talk about her when that's all I long to do today."

Edmund nodded his head at her. "Tonight," he said to his daughter. "We can talk tonight when we go home."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said and Edmund hated that she even had to thank him. He moved to embrace her tightly for a few moments as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest as he cupped the back of her head.

"I will be back soon," Edmund said to his daughter and she nodded her head against him.

He let go of her with a final kiss to her cheek before heading inside. Elizabeth watched him go and tried to put a brave face on as she went to play with the children, trying to forget how the same games she played with them were the games that she played with Mathilda. She didn't exactly know how long had gone by before she saw Bennet approaching.

"Uncle Ben," she greeted him with a peck to the cheek, letting the girls she had been playing with go and continue their game of hopscotch. "What are you doing here?"

"Your father mentioned he was coming here," Bennet said. "I had thought that I would find him to get an update on the case."

"He was just talking to Deborah, but he has been quite a while," Elizabeth said. "Come on, I'll show you inside and we can see if they're finished."

Elizabeth headed up the steps with Bennet besides her. Coming into the hallway, she moved through towards the kitchen. She heard no noise as she moved. But she froze as soon as she looked into the room. Her eyes widened and her stomach churned. Her mouth gaped and she shook her head as the two of them pulled back from each other. Her father and Deborah had been kissing. They had been so wrapped up in each other that they hadn't heard the footsteps until it was too late. Elizabeth felt betrayal. She felt betrayal for her mother.

"So this is why you've taken so long?" Elizabeth asked, her tone of anger as she looked between the two of them.

"Elizabeth, darling, please," Edmund tried to get her to calm down as he held a hand up.

"Please what?" she snapped at him. "You…on today of all days…you do this?"

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry," Deborah said.

"You're sorry?" Elizabeth questioned her. "You know he is married. You know that."

"My darling, please," Edmund begged as Elizabeth turned on her heel and left the building. Edmund chased after her, barely able to acknowledge Bennet as he went. He chased after his daughter as she rushed through the playground and out towards the street.

Grabbing hold of her by the wrist, he stopped her from going any further as she tried to pull her hand free from him, but he was stronger than she was. She looked up to him and he saw that she was crying already.

"Elizabeth, please listen to me," Edmund begged from her, hoping that no one could see him causing a scene.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked him. "Mother…she is ill, father. She is ill and this is what you do? You do this?"

"Please," Edmund continued. "Do you think that it is easy for me, Elizabeth? To be married to a woman who can hardly stand the sight of me? Who would rather seek comfort in church and shelters than in her own husband?"

"And that makes this right?" Elizabeth asked him.

"No, by God no, I know it doesn't," Reid said to her. "But I just need you to understand. Please, Elizabeth, let me at least try to explain and tell you the truth and your mother…I will not keep this from her. Just let me explain."

He half-expected her to push him away. But she didn't. Instead, she just watched him, her gaze searching his before she nodded curtly. He was her father. She would give him what he wanted at least.

...

A/N: Not sure if anyone is interested in this or reading, but do let me know if you are! I always love to hear your thoughts and if there's anything you want to read/think might happen!