Mrs. Lovett walked in the room, leaving the door open for him. He hesitated to step in, as though he would be intruding on his own memories.
"Come in, love. Nothing to be afraid of," She assured him. Cautiously, he stepped in. His old possessions were covered with sheets, blanketed with dust. He walked toward the nearest corner, and lifted up one of the sheets. As soon as he had done so, he wished he hadn't. Johanna. It was her crib, unmade, with her favorite doll decaying on top of the blankets. A fresh wave of anguish washed over him. She was a sweet little thing, pale skin, rosy cheeks, yellow hair…
Mrs. Lovett pulled up a dusty ebony box. Todd turned from the corner, and walked to her. She blew off the dust that was resting on the lid. As soon as Todd laid eyes on the black box, she knew he remembered the contents. He gently took the box from her hands.
"When they came for the girl, I hid them. I could've sold them, but I didn't," She said. He opened the box, and ran his fingers softly across the razors. They were the only things in the room that hadn't lost their shine, their glory. Todd gently removed one from its place and held it in his hand. His eyes closed softly, as if the razor brought a relief he hadn't felt in ages.
"Ah, my friend," he whispered. His eyes opened again, and fell on Mrs. Lovett's face. "Leave me," he said. She stood and walked slowly out the door. As she walked down the steps, she couldn't believe what had just transpired. He was back. Benjamin Barker was back. And how could she ever have forgotten him?