When the Master had finally returned, the solitude of Allerdale state had been replaced by the noises of the workers settling in the Easter side. He had reached the house by night, after spend the day in the clay mines. The maids had been lined up by Nana, Lucille stood up next to Adelaide holding her hand. Thomas was now more fitting to pass as a newborn child, his eyes opened, showing two marbles of blueish translucent crystal. Irving Randolph had arrived at the manor earlier that day. He had been in observance of the boy and the mother's health, visiting regularly. And finally, Ms Agnes Cecile Sharpe, she waited until the carriage stopped to make presence at the main gate. She had well learned to maintain the appearances and pose as a devoted wife in front of others. Only the housekeepers and Doctor Randolph, knew the real exchanges that occurred between the respectable Mister Arthur E. Sharpe and his 'devoted' wife.

The Master had walked as usually, handed his hat and gloves to Nana, then stepped in front of Lucille who was looking forward to run into her father's arms, barely holding back her desires.

"Father!?" She said, half exclamation, half question.

His father's face relaxed a little bit and he hold the child up by her armpits. She embraced him so hard and kissed on his cheek, a low beard starting to cover his face.

"I missed you father"

"Well, I'm glad to see how well you are little lady"

Then he placed her again on the floor, and set his gaze over the baby in Adelaide's arm. She raised the blanket that protected the baby from the evening wind. The Master saw the child and nodded. Adelaida wrapped her precious cargo and watched the Master continue to greet Doctor Randolph. Both shake hands as old friends do, and walked to the house side by side. At the main door Agnes stood with a proudly stance, scrutinizing Arthur interactions with his son and daughter. He lowered himself toward her, leaving a kiss on her cheek, and tended his arm to her. She hold it and they entered the house as a man and wife shall be. The dinner was set on the big dinning room, the new foreman of the mine was also invited, he had arrived a minutes later.

The big table had feel too big for Lucille, used as she was to have her meals on the nursery or the kitchen table in very rare occasions. She played with her vegetables on her plate, because she was also accustomed to simpler victuals. The talk wandered about working, the mine operations, personal hired, the clay market and buyers. Eventually, it turned to more familiar topics, like the house. This was motivated by the curiosity of Mister William Nort, and his admiration for "such and exquisite architectural monument". Arthur Sharpe elongated a whole explanation of Allerdale acquirement by his great great great grandfather, who brought the manor into life, literally. It has been his lifetime task and greatest accomplishment, some claimed he had get obsessed to the point of madness, others said the manor was indeed alive, and had taken the soul of its creator. Lucille was about to feel asleep on the table, when the man asked about her and "such a playground must it be the manor for the little lady". That shook away the fatigue from her eyes.

"She is a very active girl, and some areas of the house aren't optimal for a child of her age, but the nursery is more than suitable for the children needs" Agnes was fast to point out.

"I have two girls myself, twins, they are eight years old. And two boys two, five and three. It's them and my wife Joan, that make all the hardships of live worthy"

Mr. Nort was very different than Arthur Sharpe or Irving Randolph, even if similar in age. His skin was tanned by the sun, and his complexion more muscular and compact. A man build in the labor of workday. Not a scholar definitely, but still a man with manners and good taste for art, a fair share of mundane and exotic knowledge. As a young lad of fourteen and a third son, he had travel looking for fortune far from home. He had worked in the China clay mines in Cornwall, and he had returned to his parents house ten years later in the notice of his mother sickness. She had get better, but he had been spellbound by a young woman. He married and settled, getting to work in the Lakes mines where he can be closer from home.

At last, the conversation diverted from the family topic into politics. Lucille had noticed her father has not asked about Thomas, her mother has not mention him either. By the time they had finish dinner and proceed to the hall to take the tea, Lucille was fascinated with a wooden harlequin her father had bring her as a present.

"What did you bring for Thomas father?" She had asked her father, a piece of candy in her mouth. She was not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

He had been in a toy shop, he usually didn't have business in those establishments. He always asked Miles to go find some nice present for a girl, like a nice doll with a gown, but he never had go picked it himself. He had do it only once, for Agnes first pregnancy he had bought a wooden nightingale, it was a mobile to hang over the baby's crib, with a thread in his belly. When pulled, it turned the complete set into motion, as if the bird wings fluttered. It was his second time then and he stood in the store mesmerized by the assortment of toys. The salesman showed him a music box, beautifully carved and painted with circus themed scenes on the sides. The top, the man had said is was plain so they can add any inscription the buyer wanted, most order a carving of a family shield or a poem. The box disappeared from his eyes and instead it was the girl, insisting in her question to be asked.

"Tomorrow child, now it is bedtime for you. Agnes"

The mother took the girl hand and ordered her to say goodnight to her father and the guests. She walked her to the nursery though the child was handed to Adelaide at the door. She didn't went in nor tugged Lucille at bed nor kissed her nor Thomas good night. Lucille didn't expected any of this, of course she didn't miss something she never had. Her mother was not a kisser, but she didn't had a comparison point, so life was at it was, perfectly normal in her eyes.

Agnes had played the piano to entertain the guests, and after Mr. Nort had left, Mister Sharpe had excused himself to the studio to speak in private with Doctor Randolph.

"You took a while this time" Irving said to his friend, the relaxed factions he had displayed during the dinner were now shifting to show concern.

"I had things to attend Irving, but I didn't want to speak with you about my travel, even less be interrogated about it. So tell me how things have been here in my absence"

"Are you meaning your wife health or the boy's health"

"I entrusted you both and you conceded" Arthur said, his tone sternly.

"And I kept my promise Arthur, but your absence only deteriorates Agnes' state, she is insecure as always had been, and retreated to herself when you left her like that"

"Speak straight, I beg you"

"No, I'm the one begging you Arthur. I never favored this union, you married without love and her with too much illusions. You pushed her away too much, I told you it will do not good the first time, any one can loose its mind being alone in this place, it is creepy at the least. More for a mother mourning her first child, and after that how many times. You always escape your problems, but the problems don't disappear, they remains right here, waiting for you"

"Are you taking now to scold me as if I were a child"

"Oh, Jesus Christ Arthur, when will you understand, this is not about you"

"You decided for the boy to be and you left anyway"

"You said..., you threw my hopes to the fire"

"I know what I said, and I cannot be more sorry, I judged based on experience. I was afraid to give you false hope, only to break your heart if the boy didn't survive, you couldn't managed"

"No I couldn't, That's why I left!"

"And how was that fair to him, to your wife? The only one blessed in this house is the little girl. She is too young but doing what her mother is not, caring for the boy. You want to know about the boy's health, well ask your daughter then, that I do every time I came. I had been here twice a month, to check on him, it has been difficult for him, for the ones taking care of him, those women are angels too. And at last, he is growing surprisingly good. I'm convinced he will be healthy, still he is quiet and looks unfocused, but never when he is with the girl. It is her I'm sure, the reason of the boy improvement, she has keep his brother alive, I don't not how, a miracle I would be inclined to think. The mother on the contrary, she erased the whole incident from her mind. I have asked her, but she acts as if it didn't happened, your dispute, the birth included. If you want to really do something for her, for your family, then be with her, with them, as a family should. Go see your boy, give him a chance, I think he may grow to be the heir that you were waiting for, and if not let him at least grow in his parents heart. Make Agnes realize that they need each other, they could be each other cure and strength, instead they are both strangers in the same house. She would not acknowledge him until you do it first"

Arthur was now in immersed in deep thinking, his mind wandering in his own labyrinth, his walls made of things done that cannot be changed back, of broken dreams and reality, and mistakes committed to appease nature desires, in love and what love was not, in what he had at last and what he had lost. He took a profound breath, and stepped up to face his friend.

"Its that all?" He asked, not allowing his worries to be exposed

"It's that, Arthur"

"Jory will drive you back"

The doctor retreated as a defeated warrior.

"At least think about it Arthur, it is not my interest to give you ill advice"

But he had, and for that he was ashamed, maybe if he himself had been more hopeful about the boy, maybe his friend had stayed. He remembered the words he had spoken to Arthur before he had left, "Had hope my friend, but don't let hope deceive you. This is a battle more lost than won". That had been three days after the child had born. The mother had not spoken a word to anyone after Arthur had made his leave statement. The boy had been feeding barely enough to hold into life, but it was not enough he knew, still the nursery was a fort, in which the maids and the girl were dealing a battle for the child survival. He had looked better for moments, just to fade again after some hours, while the nourishment helped him, the effort the tiny body put on it make him unable to do it again frequently.

The first month was like that, he had stayed in Allerdale the first two weeks, then he had left and returned to find the women tending the child in such an exhaustion state. A wet nurse had been fetch but the boy rejected it, to small to grab to the woman nipples, and when put to it, he didn't suck. There were moments in which he, as a Physycian, had gave up, several of them indeed. How they where to keep alive a child that didn't feed by himself. Yes, he was still there, and better, but for how long. Now Agnes, that was entirely a different problem.

She had isolated herself, only interacting with the new maids. She didn't leave the room at first, and when finally she had spoke to him, she spoke about a different time, one in which her marriage was young and she had aspirations of make a palace of Allerdale Hall. In her made up world there were no children, no nursery. "Rats" she had said, "the attic is infested, they made noises with their little hands and feet, they chant their squeaks like giggles, they keep me awake during the night". She had asked Jory to buy poison to get rid of the pesters. Irving had thought it was madness."Arthur never liked the rats, but they are difficult to avoid in an old house like this one. Old houses has secrets no one shall know. You cannot avoid them, but we can control them, make them still, silent. I know how". He had been afraid of her way of speak, the stare blank as if speaking with herself. He worried for what the woman can do to herself or to the children. He felt helpless while the two souls vanished each passing day and finally he had written his friend to please return with urgency. He had asked permission to take Agnes into a mental institution, it will do her well to heal her mind out of Allerdale Hall. The boy he suggested his relocation to the Keswick 's Hospital, if he survived the trip he had more opportunities there. He required Arthur signature for this endeavors, and also it was too much for the girl to bear alone, so he had asked, not, pleaded for his presence, after all if he wanted to see his boy again, it was probably his only chance. After a month, Arthur had responded nonsense, his wife was not insane or mad, he had assure, he could give faith on their manipulative attempts. For the boy, he must remain, he will not curse his family taking the child to die far from Allerdale, if the imminent came, he wrote instructions to set the body in the family burial grounds. Irving was most disconcerted about his friend instructions, he was stubborn, he knew, but to dismiss his family opportunities based in ill judgement, cowardice and superstition, that was to much for him to witness. He had left Allerdale, only visiting each second week. He had prayed too, he and his wife Emma, they had raised their prays for the inhabitants of the manor, their fate was in gods hands and in gods hand only.

The winter was settling his coldness and the boy won't make if he catch a sickness, its body only living each day by day. He had suggested to pump the milk from the woman breast and feed the child by hand. That have done the trick, he gained weight so slowly, one step forward, two backward. But when February had arrived the difference could be seen, and the effort invested on the child had finally paid fruits. They had established a routine and stick to it. The seasonal change also seemed to has a positive effect in Agnes Sharpe mood and serenity, still she did not acknowledge the infant.

Irving had only tried to protect Arthur for another painful loss, but who would predicted the outcome. Now he felt like part responsible of the wreckage that the Sharpe family was spinning toward.

"I want to offer myself as the boy caretaker if anything, I will take responsibility for the raising of the boy if you deemed him a charge"

"No, he must remain here as my family is" His voice left no place for doubts.

"That excludes you of course"

"Enough Irving, you don't, won't... understand"

"What is there to understand? That you have condemned your own blood to madness. In this house, it is all that's left for them. My recommendations are still standing, both of them"

"Please begone, I won't repeat myself as politely"

"Arthur reconsider"

The stiffed expression tell him that not only the discussion had come to an end, but their friendship had not remained untainted from such an exchange.

"I'm not giving up on you Arthur"

"You have done more than enough"

"I will come in a couple of weeks to check upon the child and Agnes, but you can send for me if-"

"That will not be necessary"

The doctor walked out and Arthur stayed, this was not the way he expected things to happen, but many things had happened in the time he had gone. For once, he had send a tracker after the young governess to be sure she will not act against the Sharpes interests. After three months and a half, news had arrived she had spent the last three months secluded in a Coventry. On the second month it was discovered her health was compromised with a pregnancy. She had died one month later as a consequence of a miscarriage. The stillborn sex could not be identified because it was not older that three months, the midwife had said. The incident had been managed with secrecy by the sisters of the Coventry, they didn't want a scandal which would only damage the relatives name and the order reputation. Arthur was sure it had been a boy, another he had lost.

This new he received in France were he owned a cottage, not far from Lyon. There was a farm he helped to manage for his uncle Edmund Hertford, his mother's older brother. The man was old, never married and not children to claim. Arthur would be the one to inherit the Hertford properties, which extended more than three times the size of Allerdale in fertile and productive land in the French countryside. The man has an eye for business, and he not only produced but processed some of the goods, making a better income from the goat cheese and some varieties of jams. So far, the business was more than productive and his uncle bestowed him a regular income for his labor managing the operations while he was in charge of the sales. Still it was not enough to compensate the deficit that Allerdale generated. The clay mine had always been sustainable, but it was becoming less productive with the time. The eastern side was more and more difficult to work on with the draining of liquid clay that was filling the digging place. They had tried to contain it without success. If the clay earnings payed for its production plus the living expenses of the state inhabitants, it didn't pay for the manor maintenance. This was the first thing that had to adjust to the budget, but the consequences in the structure had started to become more evident, he'll inspect that himself to assets the new damages. But the house was the less of his troubles. He would never accepted but Agnes was right, the house was cursed, stained with cursed blood, and he new from an early age that he had destined to die in that house as he had born in the house himself. So the boy was alive and it was his destiny to become Master of Allerdale too. And that leaved him with what? He wasn't sure, probably he was just holding onto lies? but he wanted so badly those lies to be true.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

He was tired and angry and sad, even confused, all at the same time. He was not good dealing with so many emotions at once. When he retired to his room he was not expecting to find Agnes awake, but she was. She served him a glass of wine which he drank in one gulp. She left her robe fall to the floor, showing her nudity. 'Such a whore', he thought 'and this was the women ho had swore not to give herself to me again'. He lift her head pushing her chin up, holding her with force. "Too much of the isolated, damaged woman without control of her own thoughts that Irving described, Uh".

"Well, well, Aren't you the lascivious one?" He spoke with disdain.

"Is that what you like, or should I play the innocent virgin? The response was stated in a matching tone.

"Don't be stupid, you maybe had been a virgin when I take you the first time, but innocent you never has been dear" Ire had already settled on him, it just need a push to show off.

"You are restless, I can tell"

"Now you know what I need?" Arrogance. Was it truly the best he could came with?

He had think about what had happened, he had thought which was the best way to proceed. He had hope she had dropped off the incident, as she always had done in the past. 'Only a coward disregard his faults', his father had told him once. Still he couldn't avoid to use his wife as rag to clean the stains of his hands, and throw her to a side after finish. His mother will be ashamed of him, she has loved him so much, as he has she. But his dark desires knew no shame and she had died aware of that, wondering herself why. It was not her fault, as it was not his father's fault the twisted inclinations he had inherited as well.

"I know exactly what you need" She tried to entice him.

"And what that would be...?". 'Two can play this game' he thought.

"To forget" She now was holding both his hands, guiding them over her body.

He had already lost, and he regretted every instant he was falling to his darkest desires. His mouth ran over her neck, to her breast, not tender nor swollen anymore. She had denied to breastfeed the child, he knew it, but dismissed the thought from his mind. Soon there was nothing, just emptiness filled by sensations running through his body. He lost himself in the exchange, and he knew he needed it as much as he tried to deny it to himself. And he also knew he would not find another woman that took with pleasure what he did to her, that pleasured herself in the threshold of pain that he imparted in his own ecstasy. She will go to hell and drag him to the same pit with her, and he was sure the devil was its hand well played in Allerdale Hall, the house will sink deeper into hell itself, dragging all the souls the manor had claimed with it, of the death and the lives as well.

In the aftermath they just laid, him on his back, her cuddled at his side, her arms wrapped around his chest.

"I missed you" She said. He stared at the ceiling, lost in his inner thoughts again.

"The boy" He said.

"What boy?"

"Your son"

"Our son" She corrected him.

"Our son" He repeated.

"What with him?"

"Are you tending to him?" He asked, but he already knew the answer.

"As much as it requires my attentions"

"Which is?"

"Will you stay this time, for him?"

"I have business to care overseas and I cannot stay here all the time. You have always known it, I don't understand why you still have to make a trauma of it every single time"

"Because you never allow me to go with you"

"This, again. I've told you thousand times, it's not suitable for a lady"

"So, Am I a lady now?"

"You are my wife, and you must behave like that. It'll do well to you if you obey me for a change". He left an intentional silence to let this words settle in his wife's mind. "So the child... Is this a revenge you are throwing against me?"

"No" She sounded like a culprit telling a lie in a police interrogation, bored to be asked the same again and again by a stupid detective who only hoped to get contradictory responses from the suspect.

"Then be his mother for god's sake. Will you?" His tone was not agitated, nor angry, nor cynical, more likely despondent. He had drained his contented energy and rage in his wife's body, and as usually, the moments that followed were the ones he can achieve most clarity of his mind.

"Will you at least pretend he is not a disappointment to you?"

"He is not. I just wasn't ready to lost another one" Regret. He can be a decent man to his wife, eventually.

"And I was?" Tears now spilled from her eyes.

"I blamed myself, for his state, for yours, for being weak and disrespect you under our own roof and for that I apologize". He looked truly repentant.

She knew that below the measured man he showed to the rest of the world, below the irascible and violent man that he was to her frequently, even below who he was when he was alone, no one to show off, to convince or to dominate, there was only a heart broken child, incapable of love like a man, afraid to commit. She'll never knew why.

He was sit in upright position, and the truth was slipping raw from his mouth. He petted her tangled hair and comforted her in his arms. If things could always be fixed like that, moments like that one were blessings in his convoluted life.

"I tell you what, why don't we go to town tomorrow, just the two of us, as we used to" He knew by now that he can broke her into submission, but he cannot forced her to care for the boy. That should born in her.

Her eyes sparkled he could swear it. Yes, he though, for now he'll follow advice. He will fix things with Agnes, for the children, for her, for him. He will fix things with Irving too, a letter will do.

"I would like that" Out of Allerdale Hall for a day, mixing between normal people, pretending they were normal people, she should do that for a change.

"Then is settled" He continued massaging her and she had felt asleep in his arms, then he put her on the pillow softly, and take his leave from the shared bedroom.

The house was quiet and filled with darkness. He had made his way trough the stairs holding only a candle. He had gone barefoot and shirtless, the wind chilling his skin. The hole on the roof allowing the currents to flow free in the main hall. He wandered his path to the third floor, and stepped in front of nursery door, he could swear he was been observed, the candlelight illuminating the hall. He laugh then, imagining things, and he remember what Irving has told, it was a creepy house indeed.

He entered to the huge room. The nursery had been adapted as a big play area, with cabinets and chest with toys, painting tools, blocks, books, a rocking chair, a wooden horse. It has a big carpet in the middle of the space, and it has four rooms appended. The nursemaid room, has not been used since the girl has turned three. There was the crib room, with a cradle a an full bed, were the children sleep on a daily basis. The bathroom was located at the opposite side of the entrance, and next to it there was also a small door. This was intentionally covered with the same wallpaper to pass imperceptible on a first glance. There was a small space and a service tray on it, and also a spiral stair that led to the attic. Arthur walked slowly, silent, the room's door was open.

He could see the crib with the mobile hanging over. The fowl projected a shadow that spread over the walls. This was Nana's doing for sure, he remember he had discarded that toy after her second son had born dead. He peeked in the but it was empty, the cradle next to the bed too. The bed was empty as well. Now he was disconcerted and looked around. He was about to go fetch Adelaide when he found the pair. A bunch of toys was piled outside a big chest, that has the hint, when he poked inside the open chest he found the girl cuddled with the baby, as rabbits in a burrow of blankets and pillows. He remember two years old Lucille, asleep on the bed with the new doll he had bring her firmly tied in a hug. Now the present was discarded ungracefully in the pile of toys.

He had lifted the boy to the crib and then picked the girl up to her bed, she didn't wake up. Then he hold the boy again and with him on his arms, he went into the service room and ascended the spiral stairs. The attic was piled of boxes, but he went straight to the one he was looking for, he followed the sound, a small bell's jingling. When he opened the box, it contained old baby clothes, they where stained and smell like old yellow book pages. The sort the content aside, baby gowns and boots knitted in crochet, a lump of black hair tied with a bow, a frame without a picture, a small soft hair brush, and in the bottom he find a very particular baby rattle. The piece of steel can fitted in the palm of his hand. It was shaped like a vine, that curled at opposite sides at each extreme to end in a round jingle bell the form of a pine. It make a nice tingling sound when he shake it slightly. He blow it and rubbed it against his pants. Abandoning the box he settle himself on the floor with the baby on one arm, the other shaking the 'S' shape rattle.

The sweet tingling sound bring forgotten memories to him. Tears fell from his eyes, and he felt the tears trail was wiped from his cheek. But he was alone, just him and the baby asleep in his arms. Hi allowed himself to cry. The Sharpe blood was strong on the baby, he mimicked his father in appearance, his sister did too. Both shared the fair skin, maybe a little too pale, and the dark hair. But their factions were more sharpen, in that they resembled their mother. The toy he was now presenting to him, was given to Arthur by his father. It had been also buried with his first stillborn. He had placed inside coffin himself. He had done it five times, and still it always returned to same place somehow. The baby stirred, and he looked at the two big eyes staring back at him, blueish gray eyes that melted in a swirl, ghostly pale skin and fluff of silky hair starting to cover the mostly bald head. He had lift the baby and cradled him, holding him against his chest.

"I name you Thomas Edmund Sharpe, my son and heir of Allerdale State, I will not fail to you again, that I promise"

But promises were not what Sharpes were good at, especially when things grow out of their hands.

He spent the rest of the night there, returning to his room before dawn. In the morning, Lucille had waken up by the sound of bells. She was surprised to find the rattle in Thomas hand. Not because if the toy apparition, she assumed it was Adelaide who had gave it to him. It was her brother that surprised her, holding the toy in his little fist, shaking it to made it sound.

"Thomas!" She said, laughing.

"Where did you find it?" She laugh and dance around in happiness.

It was like that Adelaide had found them.

"Look Adelaide, look what Thomas is doing"

"Oh", she said, "he's just a wee laddie", and she settled to give Thomas his bottle.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Lucille had been conflicted with the new attention Thomas had been receiving from her parents, she didn't knew if it was her wanting the attention too, or the feeling of Thomas being taking away from her by them. By bed time she knew that Thomas has been named, and now he was also Edmund. That name was chosen by her father and her mother as well. They had registered the baby's birth so it was official. The name sounded familiar to her but she couldn't figure it out why, therefore she forgot she had been even thinking about it.

Her parents had not arrived Allerdale Hall in the evening. She didn't noticed, safely asleep and wrapped up. They arrived on the morning, and summoned Thomas after his second morning bottle. She was left alone in the nursery while mister Thomas Edmund Sharpe was taken to her parents bedroom, without her to say something on the matter. She must had scream and do something to impede it, just that she didn't realize the plot until it was too late. In the loneliness of the room she fetch the candy her father had gave her on the day of his arrival, she had put it on her dress pocket and then safety under the bed frame. She took the candy to her mouth, it tasted bittersweet, mixed with the silent tears that pooled over her lips. Not all the candy in the world could be better that get her little brother back.

In the masters room the little one stirred incessantly, missing the warm beat of his sister. For first time since born, baby Thomas cried with sentiment. No matter how his mother tried to hush him. They had tried to feed him for more than an hour, but the child complained with his little body. By noon, the masters were tired and smelled of regorged milk. They had fell asleep in exhaustion after finally succeeding in calming the child down. Thomas snuggled on his father bare chest, the skin warm but not soft. The mother next to them with an awkward sensation that she didn't belonged in that picture. Each three hours they were awoken by Nana, bringing the little master's bottle.

The following night things returned to normalcy for Lucille and Thomas. While she was awake late t night, holding a second piece of candy for Thomas to suck, her parents commended themselves to long denied pleasures. In the days Arthur tried to close the gap between his wife and son, before and after spending the day in the mine. With Mr. Nort in charge there was more time he can stay at the manor. He had made it into a routine to had the breakfast all together, and take the children, to the inner garden where the first spring blossoms appeared for Lucille's delight. She had made a flowers crown for her when the tulips where big enough. Her mother had accepted and smiled. A rare treat the women offered her. It was in her mother nature to enjoy those moments as a family, were all was perfect and in place. The thing was, that wasn't the normalcy in Allerdale, and thus she rejected to have only pieces at a time. The children, the house, where turned into burden, nothing if Arthur was not there. She could not accept a broken family. And things that break her balance of perfection where horrid and turned everything around her into something rotten and vile. It was her mother that first has show her the butterflies, in the garden, full of life and color, and beauty. They were also dull and fragile in their beauty, weak. The father had given the boy to Adelaide, while they girls was allowed to remain a little more in the garden.

"Please father" Lucille asked for.

Agnes didn't like when the girl begged like that, she knew how woman's begging where listened by men. And this one had a candor inherited from his father's side. She sometimes craved to receive the same looks Arthur gave to the child, like if she was a cherub able to redeem the worlds sins with her bright eyes and smile. Girls, she thought, she had grown with a pack of them, her sisters all of them. They where nothing in her fathers eyes, a product of lust and temptation. They had grown themselves into that - lust and temptation - and flew away, innocent, beautiful as butterflies. The little one, she was not sure, but she had seen how Arthur never had a thought to reprimand the child, no matter how much she deserved it. She will not raise a butterfly. Her father used to called her that, "Agnes, my lovely butterfly" he had been wrong, all his life.

"Mother, how the ones in the house has no beautiful colors" She had been bold to ask, confident as she has grown with the new family dynamics her father had bring to her and Thomas' life.

"Those are moths. They are not beautiful, but they are strong, enough to survive in the dark corners, where there is no sun to keep them warm."

"I don't like them, I like butterflies. I want to be a butterfly!" The child said.

"Are you sure?" She asked with a wicked smirk. "Moths are resilient, need no beauty to show others, their plain colors keep them safe, sheltered in the darkness and the house furniture and walls", she opened the palm of her hand, and one of the butterflies step on it. "but a butterfly, it will catch everyone's attention with his beauty, and that will be its dead". With that she closed her fist, crushing the butterfly inside. "You still want to be a butterfly?".

She watched the dead insect on her mother's hand, and denied with her head.

When Adelaide returned for Lucille, she was silent and quiet. She prepared the child a bath, and then scrubbed the child who sit inside the tub. The girl had asked the old woman "What is resilient?", Adelaide has put her thinking face and stated "Is, someone that endures adversity and denies to give up, stay strong and fight back. Like..." . "Like Thomas?", the girl had said. "Well I will said the little Master is resilient indeed. Even when we thought the worse, and even the good doctor have lost all hope. But he still is here, right!? And I'm pretty sure he will be for long, long time. He will return Allerdale to its glorious days, I'll see". Lucille's eyes were fixed in a corner of the room, looking at the moths flying around the candle light. "Mother is right", Lucille thought, "You cannot be a butterfly to survive in Allerdale. Sharpes are all moths, they must be resilient, like Thomas". She decided that she will be a moth too.