Mary had gone to the Drakes as soon as she was able to get a handle on just how much she had lost in the last few minutes. It was a risk, but with only the clothes on her back, it was one she needed to take. Luckily, the family was eager to repay the Crawleys' kindness as landlords and readily accepted her story. John then drove her into town and gave her what little money he was able to spare. Mary knew full well it was more than she could have asked for and was very grateful.

She resorted to spending the night on the street, which included waking up to find herself face to face with a rat and shrieking so loudly she was surprised the police weren't drawn right to her. Apparently such noises late at night weren't such an unusual occurrence for the area.

The next day, she was forced to face the harsh truth: John's money would barely last her a day no matter how frugal she was with it, and getting more presented quite the conundrum. Well-paying jobs for women were hard to come by in the first place, and she was sure that by now her face would be well-known to any reputable business as a fugitive. After hours of pondering, and trying to ignore her growling stomach, she even starting considering that she might have to resort to the oldest profession if she wanted to last the week.

But at last, fortune smiled on her. A gentleman and his wife were sitting at an outdoor café with no one else around yet, and both were engrossed in their conversation with neither looking in her direction. The man had laid his belongings down with some haste, and his wallet had slipped out to land a foot away. Mary wrestled with her conscience, but only briefly, knowing she didn't have long to seize this opportunity. And somehow, she was able to nab the item and scurry away without anyone raising an alarm.

Mary ran a few blocks away before looking inside, and was pleased to find quite a supply of money in the wallet. However, she knew that this was a very temporary measure, and she could never count on such a chance encounter again when it ran out. She could only think of one thing to do, and just hoped her new windfall would last until she completed it.

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Her luck had held, and she now stood on the doorstep of her grandmother Martha Levinson's house in New York. She had made it last by being willing to take the lowest class cabin on the first steamship she could find, and now all that remained to be seen was whether her gamble had paid off.

As Martha came to the door, Mary was sure she made quite a sight, with her tear-streaked face and clothes that were falling to tatters. All she could think to say was, "Grandmama, please help me."

Martha's expression softened at once and she wrapped Mary in a hug. "You're always safe here. Now come in and let's get you some food and proper clothes."

As they entered the house, Martha continued, "Your mother sent me a telegram about everything that happened to you. She wanted to make sure I heard the truth from her before any newspapers here got wind of it. And I've been hoping you would be able to come here."

Mary nearly started crying again at the sight of the buttered rolls Martha brought out to the table, which were somehow the most delicious-looking things she'd ever seen. Her grandmother let her dig into them for a while, and then said, "Now, what are we going to do about this?"

Mary looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean, do about it?"

"Well, I just figured you wanted my help getting back what's rightfully yours."

Mary looked back down. "I don't know that there is anything to do about it. The law is against me no matter what Mama and Papa might say, and with Patrick and Edith against me together, it's no question who would be believed."

Martha sat down next to her and looked her in the eyes. "My girl, I've never run away from a fight in my life, and I'm not about to let you do it either. Don't tell me you don't want to make them pay for what they did to you."

A bit of steel entered Mary's gaze. "Of course, but then we just come back to what can I do?"

"Right now I don't know, but a good place to start is you telling me everything you can about exactly what happened. I'm sure Cora wasn't able to put everything in her message, and I'll need every detail I can get if we're going to get anywhere."

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It was some months later that Mary got the news. "My girl, I must confess I've been keeping something from you. I didn't want to get your hopes up in case it turned out to be useless, but I've managed to find the perfect person to help us, and he's willing. And he'll be arriving today!"

Some time after they'd gotten everything in order to receive their guest, the knock came at the door. Martha beamed at Mary as the strange arrival entered. "Mary, meet Matthew Crawley."

Mary picked up on it immediately. "Does that mean you're my family?"

Matthew started to reply, but Martha beat him to it. "Fifth or sixth cousin with maybe a couple removes thrown in there, the whole thing gives me a headache. But the point is, he's next in line to inherit Downton after Patrick and James."

Matthew was now finally able to speak for himself. "Personally, I've never really wanted to move up in society. I'm a solicitor, and I'd be perfectly happy doing it for the rest of my days. But when I heard about everything that had happened to you, I was horrified. And I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you." He took hold of her hand and kissed it, a gesture Mary had feared she would never experience again.

Martha waved it away. "And you wrote back to me that you have an idea?"

Matthew smiled. "How familiar are you with French literature, Mary?"

Mary frowned. "Les Miserables is one of Papa's favorites, but I could never get very far into it. That's about it. Why?"

"I've always loved it myself, and my favorite is The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas the Senior. It's about a merchant sailer named Edmond Dantes who manages to make three powerful enemies, who conspire to frame him for masterminding a plot to rescue Napoleon Bonaparte from Elba. So he's thrown into the Chateau d'If for life."

Mary was now more confused than ever. "It sounds a bit familiar, but what's the point?"

A twinkle came into Matthew's eye. "That's only the beginning. Another prisoner tells him about a valuable treasure hidden on the island of Monte Cristo, so they hatch a plan to escape and go after it. The other man dies, so Edmond escapes on his own and finds the treasure. And after he digs up the truth about the plot against him, he uses it to return to his hometown as the Count of Monte Cristo and becomes friendly with the people who destroyed his life, so that he can find the best way to destroy each of them in turn."

Martha smiled as well. "I think I can see where you're going with this. You want to try the same thing."

Matthew turned his smile on her. "Exactly. You and your husband made quite a bit of money, surely you can make some more together with the two of us to finance a title to return to England with."

Martha pondered for a few seconds. "It'll take some time, so I hope you can both be patient."

Mary spoke up again. "Wait a minute, I haven't said anything about agreeing to all this."

Martha turned to her. "And why wouldn't you, after all they did to you?"

"But what you're suggesting, it sounds like becoming just as bad as them."

Martha put a hand on her shoulder. "Didn't you tell me you stole the money you used to come here, because you didn't have a choice?"

"Yes, but…"

"So you should know that sometimes morality isn't a case of black and white. And after everything your sister and cousin did to you, I'd say you were absolutely due your revenge. Tell you what, why don't you just think it over a while, it's not like we'll be ready to start tomorrow."

Mary simply nodded.

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It took a few days of Mary searching her soul, but at last the recurring memory of Patrick and Edith's smug faces made her decision much easier. She went to Matthew and Martha and said, "I agree. But I have two conditions."

Matthew nodded. "Absolutely."

"First, Mama and Papa had nothing to do with it. Patrick and Edith forced them into a corner, and they could do nothing to help, but they wanted to. So I want them kept out of anything we do."

"Of course. And the second?"

Mary sighed. "There was another victim in all this, who to my shame I'd almost forgotten with all the troubles I've had. Anna wasn't able to escape with me, and she must be in prison now. I want to get her out. If she can help us so much the better, but either way it should be done."

Martha said, "As it happens, Matthew did some looking around for anyone in England who could help us before coming here, and one person in particular sounds like he would be perfect for that job. I was going to contact him anyway, since if you're really committed to this plan, we need to take a rather drastic step to make sure you can hide your true identity. As far as anyone at your home is concerned, Mary Crawley needs to die."

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The hungry eyes staring at her the day she arrived in Dorset Women's Penitentiary would stay with Anna all her life. That night, her cellmate turned out to be a large woman named Edna who revealed she had murdered her husband. "I heard what you're in for," she went on. "And aren't you a sweet thing. Trouble is, sweet things don't last long in here. But if you give me what I want, I'll make sure no one hurts you."

Anna had refused that night, but the next day she had been attacked. She still had no idea why, but she ended up in the infirmary with scratches on her face and a large bump on her forehead. When she got back to her cell, Edna reminded her of the promise, and hating herself every moment, she gave in. Which she continued to do for she didn't know how long, the days blending together as each one seemed exactly the same. And every time, the hulking woman continued to say what a sweet thing she was.

She didn't know just what had made her decide she'd had enough. At first she'd considered killing herself with one of the springs that stuck out of her filthy mattress. But just looking at it, another idea came to her. That day she'd smuggled a fork back in her sleeve, the guards having long since decided such a quiet inmate wasn't worth keeping a close eye on. She then spent every moment she could find sharpening its handle on those springs. When she finally decided it was ready, she waited until Edna had fallen asleep, then slapped her hand over the woman's mouth and nose. The instant her eyes opened, Anna plunged the sharpened handle into her chest and shouted "Here's your sweet thing!" The woman's arms lunged for her, but Anna evaded them and landed another blow, this one penetrating her throat. "Here it is!" A third strike went through an eye. "Is this how you like it?"

This continued until she'd lost count. The guards found her standing defiantly over Edna's dead body, blood pooling unnoticed around her feet. She was smiling as she was put into solitary confinement, and she was still smiling when she came out.

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No one looked Anna in the eye anymore. The story hadn't taken long to spread, and now everyone was well aware of what she was capable of. The trouble was that the guards were too, and she knew she'd never be able to do it again. But as long as her fellow prisoners didn't realize that, she should be fine.

She had barely started breakfast when an explosion rocked the room. Through the dust cloud, she could just make out that there was now a sizable hole in the outside wall, which of course all the other prisoners had realized at the same time and were swarming toward as guards tried to stop them. But Anna prided herself on being smarter than that, and waited until anyone who could stop her was preoccupied before making her own move.

She had just made it outside before someone grabbed her and pulled her to the side. She whirled around prepared to fight, but it wasn't a guard. The man wore dingy clothes, and looked at her with eyes that seemed like they could be very kind, but for now were rigid with purpose. "Anna Smith, I presume? My employer gave a very good description." She nodded, unable to speak for the moment. "Good. My name is John Bates, and I'm here to get you to somewhere you can trust you'll very much want to go."