Edith rewrote her story in the months after her recovery. Though some specific memories of her ordeal were not pleasant, there were others that made her feel warm, sad even that there hadn't been more time. She had of course been married to a man who
/had fallen in love with her, which had then freed him from the confines of his past. She had also been able to save the little girl that knew nothing of the world outside Allerdale Hall, and Crimson Peak.

The new version of Edith's novel was focused on a little girl, whose father was a dark, troubled widower who loved his daughter very dearly. In the end, though not without complication, the father found love with a young woman and in turn found his daughtera
new mother to look after her. Life took a better turn for these characters.

This evening, as Edith finished typing up the manuscript at her desk, Florence was curled up on the settee under a blanket, fast asleep before the fire. Edith paused for a moment, and looked across at her.

The poor child was constantly exhausted, and spent much of her time asleep on that settee. She was still very sick, but was getting better slowly now Edith had gotten her the medicine she needed, and had persuaded Alan to look after her, now that he was
/more or less able again. At first he had been sour, resentful of the idea that any trace of the Sharpe siblings should be present in Edith's life, although over time he had realised that Florence was of course innocent, and that Edith loved her dearly.
/Edith wasn't sure when she would get around to telling him the truth about the child's parentage, which could well have been the reason for her sickness in the first place.

Edith sighed and finished typing the sentence she was on. She tidied her desk, then stood and moved across to Florence, crouching in front of her. She reached forward and stroked her hair.

"Florence?"

The little girl stirred, and opened her eyes just enough to see Edith's gentle smile.

"I'm going to bed now. Do you want to stay here?" she whispered. Florence nodded weakly, her eyes shutting. Edith leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Alright. Goodnight, darling."

Florence drifted out of consciousness quickly after Edith left the room. She still felt terrible, knowing that if she even tried to move she would most likely be reacquainted with her last meal.

The young girl lay still for some time, unable to properly sleep but resting all the same, until she became aware of a slight depression in the blanket over her shoulder.

Florrie's heartbeat quickened, and she fought to stay still, her rational mind a little cloudy as she tried to figure out what that could be.

If felt very much like a hand.

1909

"Miss Cushing, I really must insist that you do not venture back to that house."

Dr McMichael glared at her, retaining his professionalism in the presence of others at the surgery but with his eyes clearly portraying his opinion as someone she'd known since childhood.

"Alan, it was my home. I can't forget that, as much as you might wish for me to," Florence replied steadily, watching him carefully. She knew he hated to admit it, but she was right. Still, the gentleman cleared his throat, glanced around the surgery
and took her hand, pulling her into his office and shutting the door.

"My darling, you were trapped there for so long. A little girl with no children to play with, no interactions with the outside world. And not to mention your mother's practices..."

Florence pursed her lips, but did not let herself say what she wanted.

"It was not an unhappy childhood," she reminded him. The house was too big to ever feel trapped, anyway. And I had the ghosts.

Alan simply sighed. "Perhaps not from your point of view. But so much happened there, so much killing. Not to mention the terrible creature who birthed you, and that disloyal son of a..."

Florence soured instantly.

"Don't speak of them like that," she snapped. Her eyes were dangerous, just like Lucille's had been, and Alan checked himself, ashamed that he'd let himself get carried away again.

"Florrie, I'm sorry, I just..." Florence was already reaching for the door as his face fell with guilt. "You loved them, I know. You were an innocent little girl."

The young woman refused to look at him as she undid the bolt on the door and pulled it open.

"My father loved Edith. He died saving her, and you will do well to remember that. As for the house, I grew up there. As much as I enjoy living here with Edith and yourself, the Hall will always be a part of who I am," she answered calmly, and left. Alan
rubbed his face with his hands, and stepped to the doorway. He really wasn't very good at parenting, or to be more accurate, being a guardian.

When he looked down the corridor, Florence had vanished. Old habits die hard, Alan chuckled to himself.

"Florence, darling, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost," Edith said brightly, enjoying her own little joke. As she poured tea, Florence bit her lip.

"That's the thing," she said softly. "I haven't, not in a while."

Edith paused. She knew what this meant to Florence, and wasn't sure she wanted to pursue it. It was a moment before her hand moved to the sugar lumps- she'd become rather fond of the sweetness after living in the Hall.

"He hasn't been to visit you?" she asked quietly, watching her stepdaughter carefully. Florence shook her head slightly, lips pursed.

"Not since your anniversary," she whispered. Edith sighed a little and set down the teaspoon.

"Oh, darling, you know our anniversary is difficult for him. Perhaps he's just taking a little time to himself- he spends much more time in our world than most spirit people do," she suggested calmly, hoping this would put her daughter at ease. She would
do anything for Florence, as she had done for the past eight years, and loved her dearly, but she couldn't afford to revisit their past. That would be far too dangerous, and inspire a lot of pain.

Florence knew this, and she respected Edith's wishes. But she just missed her father so much. Even after all these years, she slept much better when she could feel him in the room with her, and she talked to him all the time under her breath.

noshade=""

I think eventually there will be more about Edith and Florence, I keep having ideas ^_^)

Thank you for reading!