Thank you for the new follows and reviews. Shoutout to the lovely guest reviewer who gave me a quote for this chapter. The credit it yours. Please let me know what you think of this week's chapter.

Tommy stayed perfectly still, leaning on his hands, looking at his sister who had just confessed to stealing from him. George also sat still, looking at her, relieved she'd owned up but still not sure what it meant for him. Rose tried to stare back at Tommy but couldn't. She dropped her gaze to her hands and awaited her fate. Tommy stood up straight and put his hands in his pockets.

"I think there's something you need to say to George."

Rose looked over at George and genuinely meant what she said. "I'm sorry, George."

George blinked away the tears and nodded at her, his face hard. He couldn't bring himself to speak. It was just sinking in that a young girl's recklessness had almost cost him his job and, possibly, his eyes if not his life. Tommy nodded at him.

"That'll be all, George. I appreciate you coming in. I'll compensate you for your time. And for the distress my sister has caused."

George stood up and took the hand Tommy offered him.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Shelby."

He turned quickly and hurried out of the office, eager to put the whole affair behind him. The sound of the door closing after he left echoed around the room. Tommy sat down slowly. Rose kept her eyes on her hands which were clasped in her lap, her fingers wringing together, her knuckles white. Tommy broke the silence.

"You let that play out longer than I thought you would."

She didn't move.

"I scared that poor man more than I wanted to."

She had a smart retort ready but decided she wasn't in a position to answer back. She looked at him.

"How did you know it was me?"

"How do you think?"

"Uncle Charlie?"

He nodded. "You asked him for fifteen pounds and then that same amount is missing from the pub. It wasn't hard to put together. Although, I wasn't completely sure. I didn't think you'd be so stupid as to rob the Garrison."

She sighed. "I was running out of options."

"Clearly."

She looked back down at her hands. She began to pick at the skin around her thumbnail with her fingernail.

"Who sold them to you?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not doing that."

"I'll find out anyway."

"So, find out. But I'm not telling you."

Tommy sighed. "Rose, you need to give me the pills."

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. "I can't."

"You have to. I know you think you need them but they'll hurt you in the long run."

She kept picking at her skin. She spoke in a whisper. "I can't."

Tommy stood up and walked round to sit in the chair George had vacated, pulling it close to Rose. His instinct was to lay into her severely. She'd stolen from him, lied to him, disobeyed him, put herself in danger and goodness knows what else. But he also knew that this child sitting next to him was in an extraordinary amount of pain. He had buried his head in the sand about it for too long, but he wouldn't avoid it any longer. He didn't know exactly what she'd been through but he did know pain. He knew fear and he knew panic. He knew what it was to do whatever it took to keep it all at bay. He knew what it felt like to desperately need to numb the pain. He knew how terrible the memories were. And as he looked at his little sister sitting in his office chair, her feet barely touching the floor, her shoulders tense, her face taut, her skin pale - all the anger he felt towards her dissipated. She was lost and she was lonely and she was hurting. He wanted to scoop her up, sit her in his lap and hold her – like he had when she was younger. But she had put up a wall around herself which wasn't going to be knocked down any time soon. And he knew that was his fault. He'd abandoned her when she'd needed him the most and she'd retreated behind her wall in order to protect herself from more rejection. And he couldn't blame her; it was his damage to fix.

He thought back to his meeting with Luca Changretta the previous day. It had brought home to him how much danger the whole family was in. He could still see all the bullets lined up on the table, one for each of the family, even for Rose – "And finally, a special bullet for your little Rose." It had taken all of Tommy's self-control to not launch himself across the table at him. Mrs Changretta knew that the threat to his family - and their potential deaths – would hurt him the most. As he looked at Rose, the thought of losing her tore him apart. He had to put things right between them. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted a drink.

As he brought his hand down, he caught a flash of red on Rose's hands. He looked closer and could see that she'd picked the skin off her thumb to the point where it was bleeding. He reached over and took her hand. He felt her tense up and resist slightly, but he kept hold of her and gently brought her hand towards him. She looked at him confused, then looked at her hand and was surprised to see her thumb bleeding. Tommy took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it carefully around the wound. He held her hand on his lap as he let the handkerchief soak up the blood. She let him hold her hand as he tended to her wound and realised he wasn't angry with her. But she didn't feel relieved, she felt anxious. She deserved his rebuke, she expected it. She was ready for it, which was why she'd built that wall around her – to deflect the anger and rejection she expected from those closest to her. What she wasn't ready for was the tender way Tommy was dealing with her. The gentleness and love from him found its way over the wall and touched her heart. It was warm and welcome – and it scared her. She couldn't allow anyone to love her, she didn't deserve it, she would ruin it.

She tried to pull her hand away but Tommy held fast. He looked at her with compassion and she felt the wall crack. Her eyes filled with tears again as she frowned at him.

"Thomas…"

"It's ok, Mouse. I'll take care of it. I'll take care of you."

"You can't."

"I can."

"No, you don't understand."

"I know I don't. But I'll try. I'll listen to you."

She shook her head and whispered. "I can't tell you."

Tommy rubbed his thumb along the back of Rose's hand. "You don't have to."

Rose's brow furrowed. She was confused. She was drawn to the love Tommy was showing her but she was afraid. As if he could read her thoughts, Tommy leant towards her.

"It's ok to be scared. It means you're still alive."

She examined his face, trying to work out how she felt about what he'd said. Tommy removed the handkerchief from her thumb and examined it.

"It's fine. Just a tiny scratch. Don't pick at it again."

He laid her hand back on her lap and stood up. Moving round the desk, he took a cigarette from his case and lit it. He handed it to Rose who took it gratefully, inhaling the nicotine, glad of its effects. Tommy lit another one for himself and looked at her.

"Right, I have work to do, and so do you. I've a man outside who'll drive you to the hospital. Lizzie's got a briefcase ready with everything you'll need and she'll tell you what you need to know. Ok?"

Rose was surprised Tommy had switched into business mode so suddenly, but found it quite helpful. She was glad to have something else to focus on. She nodded.

"Michael will make sure you know what you're doing, but you'll pick it up easily enough. We have a meeting of the board later, you'll take minutes."

"Ok"

"And Rose?"

"Yes?"

"You owe me fifteen pounds. I will withhold your wages until it's paid back in full. If you need money for anything – clothes, hair ribbons – you'll ask me for it. Do not ask anyone else in the family for money. Is that clear?"

"I don't wear hair ribbons."

He raised an eyebrow and Rose reined herself in.

"Yes, Thomas, it's clear."

He hated it when she called him that. He picked up a pen and gestured at the door.

"Go on, then."

She stood up and watched him for a few seconds as he signed a document. She felt strangely calm. She felt like saying something but didn't know what, so she turned and headed for the door.

"Rose"

She turned back.

"Yeah?"

"You can't take that dog to the hospital. He shouldn't be here either."

"How did you…?"

"He's been out there whining for the past ten minutes. He's probably driving Lizzie mad."

"Oh, well, I don't want to leave him on his own at the house all day. Maybe Ada might…"

"Let him in here."

"What?"

"You heard. Quickly now, before I change my mind. And get going, Michael's expecting you."

Rose smiled, hurried over to the door and opened it. Fred rushed in, happy to see her again. She crouched down and scratched his ears.

"You're staying with Tommy today, Fred, ok? Be a good boy." She stood up and looked at Tommy. "He'll need to go out at lunchtime and…"

Tommy looked at her scathingly. "Are you really telling me how to take care of a dog?" He made a sound with his lips and Fred trotted over to him.

Rose's mouth turned up at the edges. "No, I would never. It's just..."

"Rose! Will you…"

"I'm going, I'm going."

She hurried out of the room and leaned against the door after closing it. She wasn't sure what had just happened but something had changed. She was chewing her lip and puzzling over it when she heard Lizzie cough loudly. She looked over to see her holding up a briefcase. She pushed herself off the door and approached Lizzie's desk, ready to be told everything she needed to know before going to see Michael.

Rose had visited Michael once before with Ada. He'd been barely conscious and they hadn't stayed long. She was glad to see him sat up in a wheelchair at the table in his room. He turned and looked at her as she walked over to the table and smiled grimly.

"So it took me almost dying for you to finally come to work?"

She looked at him sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's good to see you, Michael."

"It's good to see you too, Rosie. Come here."

He held out his arms and Rose bent down to hug him. He held her tight for a few seconds. He was glad to see her. He was glad to see anyone these days – his brush with death had made him annoyingly sentimental. Rose pulled away, uncomfortable with his display of affection. He cleared his throat.

"Well, you're here now. Sit down and show me what Lizzie's sent with you."

So, Rose sat down next to him and handed him the documents in the briefcase and for the next couple of hours, Michael patiently went through the work with her, explaining what her job would be. It consisted mainly of checking his numbers, managing the filing, typing out letters and, as long as he was in hospital, being the go-between him and the office. She took everything in quite quickly. She found that working quietly next to Michael, with the occasional question from her and explanation from him, was actually quite soothing. It was good to have something to focus her thoughts on, although the effect of the pills made it her thought process slower than usual and that frustrated her.

Michael noticed her frowning and rubbing her forehead as she worked.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

She looked at him. There was something she'd been wanting to ask him ever since she arrived. Michael looked back at her, wondering what she was going to say.

"Michael?"

"Mmm?"

She paused, not sure how to word her question.

"How did it… what was he…"

She shook her head, not finding the words. Michael knew what she wanted to ask.

"It all happened so fast, Rose. One minute I was talking to him, trying to persuade him to come to Small Heath, the next I saw him go down just before I did. Then I woke up in here."

She was frowning at him. "Did it hurt?"

"Not at the time. It did when I woke up." He knew why she'd asked. "It wouldn't have hurt John, he was gone almost immediately."

She nodded. "What was he like, before?"

"What?"

"How was he? Was he happy, sad – what?"

He lit a cigarette as he thought about her question.

"He was frustrated. He told me to come inside and have some food. He wasn't afraid of the Italians, he said we were the Peaky Blinders. I told him to come to the meeting and see how he felt, but Esme was so angry with Tommy. She didn't want John and the kids anywhere near him. I think John knew Tommy was right about going to Small Heath, but the Italians arrived before he could make a decision."

Rose took in everything he was saying, trying to imagine John's final moments. He was always stuck between his loyalty to Tommy and to Esme.

"What was the last thing he said?"

Michael frowned, trying to remember. "He told Esme to get in the house."

And Rose finally had the answers to her questions. She could now imagine John's final moments. Nothing poignant, nothing special – just one more final moment of violence in his life. She looked back at her work and picked up her pen. But Michael wasn't finished with the conversation.

"What's going on with you, Rose?"

She frowned, not liking the interest. "Nothing, I'm working, like you should be."

He regarded her. Polly had told him about her, how she kept herself locked down, how she was on the edge, how she was taking tablets.

"The pills won't help, Rose."

She swore loudly and angrily. "Not you as well. Why can't people just leave me alone." She stood up. "Not that it's any of your business, Michael, but the doctor prescribed them for me. I need them. And don't tell me I don't because how the hell would you know?"

"Because he hurt me too."

She frowned at him, not understanding. Did he mean Tommy? Michael clarified.

"Father Hughes. He hurt me too, when I was a kid with the parish."

She froze. The words he'd spoken hung between them. The blood rushed in her ears and she felt like there was a great weight on her chest. She hadn't heard that name in over a year. Wave upon wave of memories crashed against the wall around her mind and although they weren't clear, just the sense of them paralysed her.

Michael watched the colour drain from her face and thought she was going to faint. He was working out how he'd catch her when a nurse entered the room.

"Mr. Grey?"

Michael remembered he was expecting Tommy to go over the numbers with him. He looked up at Rose who was standing staring at him, a look of horror on her face. Hopefully, she'd come back to herself when Tommy came in. He answered the nurse.

"Yeah, send him in."

"It's your mother."

He swore. He didn't need Polly putting more pressure on him to leave with her. But it wasn't Polly who walked in the room. It was his adoptive mother. He was shocked. Rose turned at the sound of unfamiliar footsteps and stared at the woman who approached hesitantly, a brown paper bag in her hand. Her eyes were locked on Michael.

"I read about it in the paper. I have a right. I'm your mum as well."

Michael didn't speak. The woman looked round the room nervously, her eyes resting on Rose, as if she'd only just seen her. Rose looked back, trying to understand, trying to hear above the ringing in her ears. Michael looked between them, not knowing what to do.

"This is Rose, my cousin."

The woman looked back at Michael, pained at the reminder of the family Michael now belonged to.

"Do you want me to go away?"

"Yes."

"I'll just leave these." She walked over to the table and put the paper bag down. "They're from our orchard." She took a red apple out of the bag and put it on the table. "You used to love these."

Michael smiled slightly. "I hope there are no worms in them."

She gave a tearful laugh and moved round to hug him.

Rose stared at the apple on the table and suddenly thought of Alfie. She frowned. Was he still sending apples to Arrow House? Did he know she wasn't there anymore? Would the apples be rotting somewhere? The thought saddened her and she felt tears prick her eyes. Michael's adoptive mother looked at her worriedly.

"Are you alright, my dear? Would you like one?"

Rose raised her eyes to the concerned face and gasped. It was her own mother staring back at her. She backed away quickly, almost falling over the chair behind her. Michael reached out to try and steady her but she was too far away. She regained her balance and looked back at the woman stood next to Michael. It was his adoptive mother now, not her mother. Rose frowned, confused, not quite sure what had just happened. She took in the shocked faces looking at her and was embarrassed. She cleared her throat.

"I'll just … er … I'll go outside for bit. Let you two spend some time together."

Michael wasn't sure. "Rose…"

"It's fine, Michael. I could use some air. There'll be someone with me."

She hurried out of the room towards the exit, startling the man who was assigned to guard her. He hurried after her. She found her way outside to the hospital grounds and stood in the middle of the lawn, breathing deeply. She was so confused, her mind was hazy and she couldn't seem to grasp hold of any of her thoughts. She turned round and looked at the building. Why was she at the hospital? Someone close to her was in there. She had a feeling it was John but she couldn't be sure.

"Rose."

She spun round and looked for the person who had called her name. She couldn't see anyone she recognised. There were a few patients with nurses or visitors in the grounds, but no one else.

"Rose."

She wheeled round again and this time she saw her. She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Mum"

Her mother smiled at her. She was stood on the other side of the lawn and held out her arms to Rose who ran over and fell into her arms.

"Oh, my Rose. I'm so glad to see you."

"I missed you, Mum. I needed you."

Her mum pushed Rose's hair away from her cheeks and held her face in her hands.

"I'm here now, my Petal."

Rose frowned. That was strange. "Mum?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Where's John? Is he in the hospital."

Her mum laughed gently. "No, love, he's with me, remember?"

"Is he hurt?"

"No, of course not. He's fine now."

"So, who's in the hospital?"

Her mother let go of her face and lifted something up. "I have something for you, Rose."

It was a basket of apples, red and shiny. Rose knew they would taste delicious. She'd had them before. Her mother continued.

"They're your favourite. I picked them from the orchard myself. Cox's apples."

Rose took a step backwards and looked at her mother, her brow furrowed. Something wasn't right.

"Mum?"

Her mother stepped towards her, holding out the basket still. Inside the apples were all rotten. "I put her eyes out, my Petal, so she'll always remember what she did to you."

Rose gasped in horror and took a few more steps backward. "No, no, no – that wasn't you. That was … no, no. It was … 'with affection, your friend' … it wasn't you … you weren't there. Who was there? I was there…"

A few steps away stood Tommy's man, Paddy. Paddy was Rose's guard for the day and, as he watched the girl now on the lawn, he wished he'd been tasked with guarding anyone else but her. She moved about the lawn, talking to herself, reaching her arms out to touch things that weren't there, wringing her hands together, tugging at her clothes. He was horrified. He'd heard that the girl wasn't quite right, that she'd almost walked into a fire, and now here she was talking to thin air. He had no idea what to do. He kept his hand on his gun and stayed close, but didn't approach her. He was supposed to be protecting her from Italians, not spirits. He was incredibly relieved to hear Tommy calling out Rose's name behind him. Tommy ran past him and grabbed Rose by the shoulders. He'd spotted her just as he was about to go into the hospital and had sprinted over, dropping his briefcase at Paddy's feet. He bent down and looked her in the eye.

"Rose, Rose, sweetheart. It's me, it's Tommy."

Rose held onto Tommy's forearms and looked at him. Tommy could see that she didn't immediately recognise him and was shocked. He shook her gently.

"Rose, look at me, look at me. It's ok, you're ok. It's me."

Rose, being held tight by Tommy and feeling his arms underneath her hands, suddenly came to. Her eyes opened wide and she blinked a few times, wondering how she got there.

"Tommy?"

Despite his deep worry, Tommy noticed the name she used and was relieved. He pushed her hair away from her face with one hand and held onto the back of her head. He brought his forehead close to hers.

"What's happening, Mouse?"

She whispered. "I don't know, Tommy. I don't remember coming out here. I saw Mum."

Tommy closed his eyes and brought her head to his as if to pass on his strength to her. He stood up and became aware of people in the grounds watching them. Putting his arm round Rose's shoulders, he held her close and walked her quickly towards the hospital. Paddy picked up the briefcase and followed them.

Tommy practically carried Rose into Michael's room who was relieved to see her back. He looked quizzically at Tommy who shook his head. He didn't want to discuss it with Michael. He sat Rose down at the table and poured her a glass of water.

"Drink."

She picked the glass up and realised too late that her hand was shaking. She quickly held the glass in both hands to drink from it but both men had noticed. She put it down and looked at Tommy. She was shaken. What had happened already seemed like a distant memory or a dream, the details of it already slipping away. Tommy sat opposite her, watching her closely. Rose's voice shook when she spoke.

"I don't know what happened, Tommy. I … I can't remember. One minute I was in here and Michael's mother was here with apples and the next I was outside and Mum was there … and she spoke to me … but it wasn't her completely …"

She tailed off, not knowing how to explain. Tommy looked between her and Michael, wondering if any of what she'd said was true. Michael spoke up.

"My adoptive mother was here. She'd read about me in the paper. She brought apples from our orchard. Rose … Rose was confused, I think. She left the room pretty quickly. I couldn't go after her but I knew she had a guard."

Tommy ran a hand down his face, then pointed a finger at Rose. "I am going to tear the house apart looking for those pills. This is the last one you'll ever take."

"Tommy…"

Michael interrupted. "He's right, Rose. The pills are doing this to you – the confusion, the hallucinations – it's like Polly all over again."

Rose looked between her brother and her cousin and, deep down, knew they were right. She was scared by what had happened. Maybe she could stop taking the pills, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She wrapped her arms round her waist and closed her eyes. She had a headache. Tommy looked at her pale face and softened.

"Go and lie down on the bed, Mouse. You'll feel better after a rest."

She shook her head. "I don't want to sleep. I'll have dreams."

He nodded. "Then drink your water and sit quietly whilst I go through the numbers with Michael. I'm not letting you go home on your own."

She knew why. She knew she'd have a permanent babysitter now and sighed at the thought of it. Something occurred to her.

"Tommy, where's Fred?"

"I left him at the yard with Curly."

She nodded. He'd be fine there. Michael reached across the table, took an apple out of the bag and handed it to her.

"Eat that, it's delicious."

She accepted it from him with a small smile and took a bite. It was nice, but not as nice as the ones Alfie sent her. Sitting back and eating the apple with small bites, she half listened as Tommy and Michael looked at the books together. She had no doubt that Tommy would hunt through the house until he found her pills. She almost felt relief at the thought of it all being taken out of her hands; maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was time. She lifted the glass to her lips to take another sip of water and her eyes strayed over to her coat that was hanging on the coat stand by the door. Her gaze trailed down to the hem and she knew in that instant that she could never give up the little white pills that were nestled inside there. She needed them and she would just have to stay one step ahead of Tommy to make sure she kept them.