Anthony agreed at last to not leave me for his petty conversations with Papa. I was still wounded by the fact that Papa had not come to visit me when most of my time had been spent with Anthony, but I was far past the idea of worrying. I was still in the midst of my delight in Anthony's company.

I do not think I slept very much that night. Although the house about us was in deep slumber, Anthony was joyous in teaching me all sorts of things. He spoke of all sorts of small lessons, such as History and French. I pushed aside his attempts at tutoring me, and instead he started to show me all sorts of little tricks.

The most delightful of these tricks that Anthony taught me was a cast of shadows against one of the walls. He placed a candle on the desk I had at the opposite side of the room and formed odd shapes in front of it with his hands. I did not expect such pretty things to appear upon the wall. I clapped in amusement, as if applauding him.

"You must teach me!" I exclaimed excitedly, holding out my own hands. Anthony chuckled and took hold of them. For a moment, he stared at them, his smile more soft than vivacious. This passed quickly, and he positioned my hands in front of the candle's glow.

"It isn't desperately hard, is it?" I asked curiously.

"No, no, of course not."

"Then why does it seem it?"

"Do not think it difficult and it shan't be so," Anthony said, his animated smile returning. His hands encased mine firmly. He stretched my fingers in odd ways, or at least ways odd to me. I did not look at my hands, though, and instead at the shadow that was cast.

I could see that a little dog had appeared on the wall by my own hands. Although this was pleasing enough to me, I concentrated too well on Anthony's shadow. My little dog sat cheerfully while Anthony's fingers seemed to prod it in the silliest of places. I shuddered, noticing his eyes becoming pierced.

"What is it?" he asked gently. I slowly snatched my hands back, putting them on my lap.

"Nothing."

"Johanna? What is the matter?"

"It was…disturbing."

"How so?"

"It just was," I replied abruptly, my voice sharp. Anthony gently placed his hand on mine again, causing me to jump. I disallowed him from touching me until I was certain his intentions were anything but to try little shadows with me again.

"You must finally be tired," he said to me when the moon was at its highest point at my window. I had no clue about time as of that moment, or as of ever if I thought about it, and so could only trust Anthony as he told me it was 'late'.

"I still could not possibly sleep," I told him.

"Then you should be forced."

"Not at all."

"I fear slightly for your health, Johanna," he said timidly.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"You sleep so little that it's almost terrifying. I myself feel ready to collapse."

"Don't do that!" I said quickly, grabbing his arm. Anthony chuckled.

"I do not mean literally."

I nodded, letting go of him. Anthony stared at me for a moment, but then sighed resignedly.

"I'm not going to be able to get you to sleep, am I?"

"Nope."

He smiled again, placing his arms around me. Gladly, I rested my head on his chest, listening intently for his heartbeat. It was soothing, almost enough to send me to sleep. I refused to let it, though, as I wished instead to savour my moments in contact with others.

Slowly, I felt Anthony begin to slouch slightly, until finally his head rested on the wall behind him, a soft snoring sounding through the room. I smiled, putting a hand on the top of his head. He did not stir, and so I moved my hand away. For a while, I simply sat on my pillow at the end of the bed, my knees tucked under my chin. I could only watch him as he slept.

The night took little time to finally turn into day again. My eyes had never once left Anthony, and I very much doubt I had even blinked. Not that I would have noticed either way. Anthony's eyes started to flutter slightly, opening slowly. He looked at me for a second, a smile creeping upon his lips.

"Good morning."

"Anthony, you sleep a lot," I said observationally.

"It has only been-" Anthony paused, and then sighed. "You didn't go to sleep, did you?"

"Nope."

He pressed his lips together firmly, thinking. Finally, he rose again to his feet, stretching.

"You must be hungry, at least."

I nodded eagerly, jumping off the bed and taking his arm. Anthony laughed, entertained, and led me from the room. I savoured the idea of leaving my bedroom. My meals had been handed to me through the door, either by Papa or Anthony. Life seemed to go just as this for so long that I had not seen most of the house. Happily, I refused to tour it.

Papa was sitting at the table when we arrived to the kitchen. He looked at us the moment we came into the room, nodding towards Anthony. As for me, I was greeted with little more vehement.

"Good morning, Johanna."

"Papa!" I said excitedly, skipping towards him. I flung my arms around his neck, giggling. "You have not come to visit me in so long!"

"I have been busy," he said simply.

"Then you must stop being busy. I've seen nothing of you for days!"

He did not say another word to me, but did not push me away from him. I smiled on, watching Anthony as he manoeuvred about the room. Within what seemed moments, he had set a bowl of porridge in front of me. I did not think much about my actions, and so quickly ate the bowlful without breath.

"You were hungry?" he commented lightly when I had finished. I only nodded earnestly, too occupied with my thoughts to actually speak. I stared at Papa, waiting for him to talk to me. To urge him, I pressed my palm on his shoulder, trying to shake him. He looked on, not directing his attention to me at all.

"Papa?"

"Yes, Johanna?"

"You're not talking to me at all, Papa."

Papa sighed, finally moving, but only to push me away from him. He left the room without another word. I wished dearly to follow him, but Anthony placed his hand on mine to stop me.

"It is best you leave him be," he told me quietly. "He needs to think."

"He can think in one place," I said. "You do not need to go anywhere else to think."

"Have patience, Johanna." Anthony smiled at me, pulling me towards him gently. I was silent, unmoving, until finally I shook my head.

"No, I don't want patience," I said firmly. "Papa had said not a word to me lately and I don't know why!"

"Your father has just been busy, I'm sure."

I gritted my teeth, pushing Anthony away from me and uttering a low, frustrated groan. Without thinking, I batted the stool I had been sitting on with such a force that it crashed to the floor. Anthony rose to his feet quickly, his arms ready to take hold of me again.

"He's not busy!" I said erratically, my voice raising. "Papa does not work! Papa can not be busy!"

"Johanna, please," he said pleadingly, taking hold of my hand. I quickly snatched it back, flinging my arm across the table top and pushing the bowl to the floor. Anthony attempted once again to take hold of me, but I could not allow it.

"You're not telling me the truth!"

"I'm telling you everything that you need to know," Anthony said sincerely.

"I'm not being told anything!" My voice had risen until I was almost shrieking at this point. The kitchen door opened in almost an instant and Mrs Lovett, followed by the Toby lad, rushed in.

"What's going on 'ere? I 'eard a ruckus of some sort."

"Mrs Lovett, please, take her arm." I turned sharply to face Anthony, blushing with rage.

"She very well will not!"

As I said it, Mrs Lovett had indeed taken hold of my arm, and in my distraction Anthony had taken my other. I screamed out in protest, but the two of them ignored me. I could not help but be dragged back to my room, again to be locked away. All through it, I screamed for Papa.