Mrs. Lovett had always wanted a child of her own. Someone to care for, besides Albert. Someone with sweet, innocent eyes that made her give in to anything. Someone who she could comfort when they cried. Someone who she could teach. Someone who trusted her, who loved her with all their heart. A son. A daughter. Someone.

Mrs. Lovett sat back and closed her eyes. If her life were the way she wanted, she wouldn't even be in London. She'd be basking in the sun somewhere, by the sea. She would be Mrs. Eleanor Barker. She would be popular among her neighbors, throwing dinners that were the talk of the town. She would own her own house. Just her and Benjamin. If only she were that lucky.

She wasn't all too unhappy with her lot in life. She didn't hate Albert. She could have ended up with someone a lot worse. True, they had their fights, but they always made up. She didn't exactly choose to marry Albert either. Back when she was younger, naïve, and subservient to her parents, she agreed to the marriage. They told her Albert Lovett was a kind and wealthy young gentleman. Of course, she should have realized her parents were the ones getting all the money out of the deal. And Albert's kindness was unpredictable. Some days it was there, some days it was as though it never existed.

Her ponderings and dreams were interrupted when the door to the shop crashed shut. She sat up quickly, waking Johanna. The little girl didn't cry, she simply looked around; wide eyed. Mrs. Lovett placed Johanna on her hip and walked into the kitchen. It was Lucy. Mrs. Lovett must have fallen asleep; it was dreadfully late.

Lucy Barker wasn't at all in the same condition as she was when she had left. She was crying, her yellow curls were in a mess; falling into her face, her white dress was stained with dirt, and the hem was heavily tattered.

"Lucy?" Mrs. Lovett asked. "What happened to you? Are you alright?" Lucy, still sobbing, sat at the table. She didn't even seem like she acknowledged Mrs. Lovett's presence. Mrs. Lovett quickly walked up the stairs, laid Johanna in her crib, and ran back down to sit at Lucy's side.

"What happened?" Mrs. Lovett repeated. Lucy took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. The tears were still streaming down her face, slowly and indignantly.

"He lied to me," she finally whispered. "What have I done?"

"Who lied?"

"Bamford. And Turpin. They both… lied. Beadle told me Turpin was contrite. And I believed him. Even after what they did to my husband. I know they did it. I don't need proof. It was just to get Benjamin out of the way. And since he was gone… They… Benjamin," she said. Her words came slowly at first, but then they seemed to spill out of her mouth. She couldn't finish her sentence, as she was sobbing harder than ever.

"Did Turpin do something to you?" Mrs. Lovett asked, fearing the worst. Lucy nodded. A large knot twisted in Mrs. Lovett's stomach. In the streets, there were rumors about Turpin and his lady guests. Rumors that weren't fit to be talked about in public. "Lucy?" Mrs. Lovett asked, trying to get the poor dear to tell more. To at least deny Mrs. Lovett's fears. Or, if needs be, confirm them.

"Oh, I should not be called a wife! I didn't do as you asked. It wasn't a dinner, it was a masked ball. I-I didn't recognize anyone. I drank a lot more than I should have. And Turpin… finally took what he wanted," she sobbed harder, burying her face in her hands. "Benjamin, forgive me!"

"There, there love," Mrs. Lovett attempted to comfort her. "You couldn't have known that was going to happen. Benjamin wouldn't blame you."

"I don't even deserve to breathe this air," Lucy said, drying her tears. She stood, shakily. "I can't live with myself. Not after what has happened."

"Now, don't you go blaming yourself for this," Mrs. Lovett said, sternly. "It was Turpin. We can use this against him! We can ruin the devil!" Lucy shook her head.

"No one will believe me," she said. "Everyone at the ball saw what happened. They thought I was crazy. Perhaps I am." Lucy's eyes found Mrs. Lovett's. They had lost all their former shine and happiness. Now they were a dull, colorless gray. Lucy's pale skin seemed gray. She looked worn, tired, and much older.

"You just get some rest dear," Mrs. Lovett said, leading her up the stairs. "You'll feel better in the morning and then we can talk about this." She helped Lucy to lie down. She walked out of the room, gently closing the door shut behind her.