Disclaimer: Nothing related to Doctor Who or the Harry Potter Series is mine. I swear. I wish I owned them, cuz then I might have a bit more money, but I don't.

Warnings: Book Two of Three (Main books anyway). Swearing. Sarcasm. I have only watched the new series, no knowledge of early Doctor Who. EWE, kind of...

Dedication: To the Writers and Producers of Doctor Who, thank you for giving me something else to obsess over, now that Harry Potter is long gone. And to the lovely people who encourage me to continue writing in their reviews. To the lovely people who encouraged me to post the next chunk

Book 2: Stories of A Shop Girl

Summary: A Death too soon. A woman who steps up to save the world.

Rating: Dark T

Genre: Adventure/Drama

A/N: Hello everyone. I can't believe how well received this story has been. I hoped you all liked the brief appearance of the Eleventh Doctor. And as for appearances, we've got Jenny and Jack appearing in this chapter from Doctor Who, and a brief mention of Professor Trelawney, Voldemort and Professor Snape. If you would like to see a specific character appear, let me know. I will try to work them in. I can't promise anything from the original Doctor Who, simply because I'm not confident enough in being able to write them properly.

Part 1: Just a Replacement?

Chapter 3: A Witch in the Morgue

We're back in the TARDIS, chips digesting slowly. The Doctor's doing something crazy with the console, telling me to hold down a control.

"Hold that one down!" He yells, pointing across the panel. I give him a look.

"I'm holding this one down."

He gives me a look back. "Well, hold them both down." I give the switch a look.

"It's not going to work." I call in a sing-song voice. I reach anyway, only to find that it does. Right, forgot that Rose's arms are longer than my own.

The Doctor's offended. "Oi! I promised you a time machine and that's what you're getting. Now, you've seen the future, let's have a look at the past. 1860." He looks up from the screen he's reading. "How does 1860 sound?"

"What happened in 1860?"

He gives me a maniacal grin. "I don't know. Let's find out. Hold on, here we go!" He reminds me of the end of the universe. "We shouldn't go." And he gives Martha and I a look and jumps up and runs to the doors.

It hit me in the heart then. Would I always be comparing the two Doctors? If I was going to, why not include the other one, the one in tweed with a fez. I made a mental note. If I ever saw him again with the fez, I would destroy it. Set it on fire or something. It was a horrible hat.

The TARDIS jerks and both the Doctor and I lose our footing. "Blimey!" I yell, sitting up, wincing at the bruise I could feel forming on my arse.

"You're telling me. Are you alright?" He glances at me, concerned.

I smile. "Yeah. I think so. Nothing broken." I get up, glancing at the console. "Did we make it? Where are we?"

He gives me a grin. "I did it. Give the man a medal. Earth, Naples, December 24th, 1860."

I smile back at him. "That's so weird. It's Christmas." The first Christmas I'd had in years. Jackie didn't want to celebrate it, understandably last year, and before that I was with the Doctor, and before that I was...

"All yours." The Doctor said. I snapped out of my thoughts.

I babbled a little. "But, it's like, think about it, though. Christmas. 1860. Happens once, just once and it's gone, it's finished, it'll never happen again. Except for you. You can go back an see days that are dead and gone a hundred thousand sunsets ago." I smile, more to myself, "No wonder you never stay still."

He smiles. "Not a bad life."

"Better with two." I blurt out, and almost cover my mouth, thinking I was with the other Doctor. "Come on then." I tried to act normal, but he must have seen something different in me. He gave me a weird look, but seemed to mentally shrug it off. I rush over to the doors, intent on opening them.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

I grin, "1860."

He gives me a once over. "Go out there dressed like that, you'll start a riot, Barbarella. There's a wardrobe through there." He gave me a series of directions I ignored, already moving.

Playing dress up was something new, I thought to myself, looking for a dress for the time period. Grabbing one, I look at it. Gryffindor red and black. Not to bad. I slip on a corset (blast things), before slipping on the dress, grab a pair of leather boots and go to do my hair. While doing so, the TARDIS touched my mind lightly, the barest hint of what she wanted to say got through the potion, but enough that she suggested I take some form of defence.

The Doctor had his sonic. Given as the potion cut off use of my magic, I grabbed the next best thing to my wand, my purse, which luckily seemed to match the dress. I smiled. I slipped the locket around my neck, and hid it under the neckline of the dress. I walked towards the console room, feeling strange in the dress.

I glance around, to see him underneath the console, working on something or other. I clear my throat and he glances at me. "Blimey!"

I give him a look. "Don't laugh."

"You look beautiful." He said, and then qualified the compliment, "Considering."

"Considering what?"

He smiles. "That you're human."

I roll my eyes. "I think that's a compliment. Aren't you going to change?"

He looks shocked. "I've changed my jumper. Come on."

I walk in front of him, stopping him. "You stay there. You've done this before." He gives me a look saying that he's humouring me. "This is mine." I walk the few steps to the door and open it. I gasp. It was snowing.

He's come up behind me, and almost scares me when he speaks. "Ready for this? Here we go. History."

We go towards the centre of the town, arm in arm. He stops to buy one of the newspapers and glances at it.

"I got the flight a bit wrong."

I suppress a snort. He should never bother pretending to be sure any more. "I don't care."

"It's not 1860, it's 1869."

I repeated my earlier sentiment.

"And it's not Naples."

I repeated it again, giving him a look for good measure.

"It's Cardiff." I swallow. The rift. My mind glances back to the Journal John Smith wrote, when he was human, and the urge to flip through it and find out what exactly happens is great. I grip my purse, attempting to not give into temptation.

"Right."

I swallow, dread welling up inside of me. And apparently elsewhere, because at that second, screams erupt from the theatre. The Doctor grins, takes my hand and says: "That's more like it!"

We run to the theatre in time to see a blue gas come out of a corpse, and it begins to fly around the room. The gas, not the corpse.

"Fantastic." The corpse collapses, and I frown. The Doctor runs up to the man yelling at everyone and asks questions. I glance back at the corpse to see a girl and an older man pick up the corpse.

"Oi! Leave her alone!" I yell back, telling him where I'm going. He tries to follow, but the crowd gets in his way. I run out the theatre, and see the two loading the corpse into the back of a carriage.

"What're you doing?!"

The woman, a maid from the looks (Martha...), talks to me, attempting to distract me. "Oh, it's a tragedy miss. Don't worry yourself. Me and the master (a shiver runs down my spine) will deal with it. The fact is, this poor lady's been taken with the brain fever and we have to get her to the infirmary."

I give her a look. "The woman is already starting to go into rigor mortis. She's dead." The maid looks behind me, and before I can react, a clothe is put over my mouth and I pass out.

I wake next to a dead man. "Damn." My head was pounding and I felt a little dizzy. I get up and look around. A mortuary. Something flickers, and I see the blue gas again. The man I woke up beside starts getting up.

"Well this isn't good. I can't see any spells, outside of the gas, which doesn't count, so it's definitely not inferi, so then what the hell is it?" I comment, backing away from the man. I run towards the only door in the room, and try the doorknob. Locked. "Perfect. Again defenceless without magic. Let's try the old stand by."

I begin pounding on the door. "Let me out! Open the door!" I sigh. "Please, please, let me out!" The kind of reanimated corpse grabs my shoulders. "Let me out! Someone open the door!" I give the corpse a good headbutt (the twins taught me how to fight dirty).

The door bursts open and I glance to see the Doctor. "I think this is my dance." He takes the corpse, pulling it away from me. Another man walks in, and I barely glance at him.

"It's a prank. It must be. We're under some mesmeric influence."

The Doctor glances back at him. "No, we're not. The dead are walking." He turns to me. "Hi."

I laugh. "Hi. Who's your friend?"

"Charles Dickens." I blink. Going into the past must be synonymous with meet famous dead authors in Gallifreyan.

"Right."

The Doctor turns back to the corpse. "My name's the Doctor. Who are you, then? What do you want?"

The corpse replies, which is a little shocking. What's more, it replies in more than one voice. "Failing. Open the rift. We're dying. Trapped in this form. Cannot sustain. Help us. Argh!" The gas leaves, and the corpse collapses.

"Why not something peaceful? Ever?" I mutter under my breath.

By the time we move into the living room, I am wound. "First of all, you drug me, then you kidnap me, and don't think I didn't feel your hands having a quick wander, you dirty old man." He tries to cut me off, glaring, but I've dealt with Professor Snape and faced down Voldemort. An old man doesn't scare me. "Then you stuck me in a room full of zombies! And if that ain't enough, you swan off and leave me to die! So come on, talk!"

He starts talking, claiming that whatever is happening is because of the house. I overhear Gwyneth and the Doctor's exchange, and follow her, instead.

She ends up in the pantry. I go to start washing up, and she tries to stop me. "Don't be daft. Sneed works you to death. How much do you get paid?"

"Eight pound a year, miss."

"How much?"

She gives me a little grin. "I know. I would've been happy with six." I close my eyes, feeling my frustration climb. She was barely treated better than a house elf!

I swallow. "So, did you go to school, or what?"

"Of course I did. What do you think I am, an urchin? I went every Sunday, nice and proper." Not what I was referring to, but a nice slide.

"What, once a week?"

"We did sums and everything." She gives me a little look, like she's asking me to keep a secret. "To be honest, I hated every second."

I smile back at her. "I would've too."

"Don't tell anyone, but one week, I didn't go and ran on the heath all on my own."

I laugh. I use Rose's story to relate with her. "I did plenty of that. I used to go down the shops with my mate Shareen. We used to go and look at boys."

Gwyneth gives me a look, and looks away. "Well, I don't know much about that, miss."

"Come on, times haven't changed that much. I bet you've done the same." We continue along that line of conversation before she stops and looks at me.

"I swear, it is the strangest thing, miss. You've got all the clothes and the breeding, but you talk like some sort of wild thing." A shiver runs down my spine.

"Maybe I am. Maybe that's a good thing." I say, before frowning. "You need a bit more in your life than Mister Sneed." We chat about him for a little bit.

"Mister Sneed says I think too much. I'm all alone down here. I bet you've got dozens of servants, haven't you miss?" I think guiltily about the house elves for a moment.

"No, no servants where I'm from."

She took on a strange look. "And you've come such a long way."

I frown. "What makes you think so?"

"You're from London. I've seen London in drawings, but never like that. All those people rushing about half naked, for shame. And the noise, and the metal boxes racing past, and the birds in the sky, no, they're metal as well. Metal birds with people in them. People are flying. And you, you've flown so far. Further than anyone. The things you've seen. The darkness. The Big Bad Wolf." I snap, grabbing her by the collar.

"Where did you hear that name?" I growl.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry miss."

I look at her, really good. And then I feel a presence in my head. She's a witch. Untrained legilimency. "Hogwarts." I said. She gives me a terrified look. "You've been to Hogwarts, haven't you?"

"H-How d-did-"

"Future graduate. Technically. Time travel." She nods. I put her down and smooth out her shirt. "Sorry. It's not a good thing."

"I couldn't finish paying for the lessons. My parents died when I was twelve. No money. Been trying to save up, but it is so expensive."

I sigh. "It's okay. You need to learn to control it."

"I can't help it. Ever since I was a little girl, my mam said I had the sight. She told me to hide it."

The Doctor's voice breaks us up. "But it's been getting stronger, more powerful, is that right?"

I turn, shocked to see him standing there. "Don't scare me like that!"

"All the time sir. Every night, voices in my head."

The Doctor nodded. "You grew up on top of the rift. You're part of it. You're the key." That doesn't sound good.

"I've tried to make sense of it, sir." She gives me a glance. "Consulted with spiritualists, table rappers, all sorts."

The Doctor frowned. "Well, that should help. You can show us what to do?"

"What to do where, sir?

"We're going to have a séance." With that, he turned back from where he came, and I was about ready to hit him.

I ran after him. "It won't work. Divination doesn't work like that!"

"This is how my great auntie Cassandra Trelawney summons those from the Land of Mists. Come we must join hands."

I mutter to myself, "Just when I thought I got rid of the old hag."

"I can't take part in this." Dickens said, causing a bit of a fuss.

The Doctor frowned. "Humbug? Come on, open mind."

"This is precisely the sort of cheap mummery I strive to unmask. Séances? Nothing but luminous tambourines and a squeeze box concealed between the knees. This girl knows nothing." I hated to admit it, but I actually agreed with him.

"Now, don't antagonise her. I love a happy medium." I roll my eyes.

"I can't believe you just said that." He shot me a grin from across the table.

"Come one, we might need you." Dickens sighs, but sits down all the same. "Good man. Now, Gwyneth, reach out."

I felt my mind floating a little too. "Speak to us. Are you there? Spirits, come. Speak to us that we may relieve your burden." I start hearing whispering, and I drift further, and further before coming face to face with the blue gas.

"Who are you?"

"Pity us. Pity the Gelth. There is so little time. Help us." The gas turned red, and the shape became darker. They were lying pretending to get free of their prison.

"The Time War. The whole universe convulsed. The Time War raged. Invisible to smaller species but devastating to higher forms. Our bodies wasted away. We're trapped in this gaseous state." And that was the card. The card that made sure that the Doctor would help them.

"Open the rift. Let the Gelth though. We're dying. Help us. Pity the Gelth."

Something snaps, and I come back to reality. Gwyneth seems to still be somewhere else. "Gwyneth? Are you okay?"

I get her into a chair and she sighs. "I'm fine miss." I give her a small smile.

I got for my purse and open it, grabbing a small bag of money. "Here. I don't know what's going to happen next, but the Doctor usually leaves quickly, so I may not be able to give you this. I hope it should be enough."

Gwyneth frowns at me. "Enough for what miss?"

"To complete your education." She smiles at me.

"This is too much. I can't take this."

I give her a smile. "I'm not asking you. And you're not taking. You're having. I've got plenty. I've saved the world a time or two."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." She whispered. I throw my occulmency shields up, and she gives me an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"It's okay, you can't control it." I sigh. "You should get some sleep. Possession is not an easy thing to handle."

"But my angels, miss. They came, didn't they? They need me?"

The Doctor comes up behind us. "They do need you, Gwyneth. You're they're only chance of survival."

I growl at him. "I told you, leave her alone. She's exhausted." I stand, and he's about to comment back, which could possibly turn into a shouting match, when Sneed interrupted us, asking for the Doctor to explain aliens again.

"They can only test drive the bodies for so long, then they have to revert to gas and hide in the pipes."

"Which is why they need the girl." Dickens said, turning to Gwyneth and I.

"They're not having her." I say, standing in front of her. If the men in the room tried anything, they would soon learn why I kept the name the Big Bad Wolf.

The Doctor tried reasoning with me. "But she can help. Living on the rift, she's become part of it. She can open it up, make a bridge and let them through."

"Incredible. Ghost that are not ghosts but beings from another world, who can only exist in our world by inhabiting cadavers." Dickens said, awe on his face at the story. I scoffed.

"Good system. It might work."

I glare. "You can't let them run around inside of dead people."

"Why not? It's like recycling."

I had my argument, but it would have killed him, and I am pretty sure Rose Tyler doesn't know him enough to comment on that. "Seriously though, you can't."

"Seriously though, I can." I glare at him.

"It's just wrong. Those bodies were living people. We should respect them, even in death."

He sighs. "Do you carry a donor card?"

"That's different. That's-"

He cuts me off. "It is different, yeah. It's a different morality. Get used to it, or go home. You heard what they said, time's short. I can't worry about a few corpses when the last of the Gelth could be dying."

I sigh, knowing we could end up going around this argument in circles. "It's Gwyneth's choice."

Gwyneth looks at me, and nods. "I understand your thoughts miss, but here and now, I know my own mind, and the angels need me." She turns to the Doctor. "What do I have to do?"

In the back of my mind, I wish she would stop calling them her angels. Gas or stone, angels are never a good sign, anywhere near the Doctor.

"You don't have to do anything." The Doctor said, giving her a chance to opt out.

"They've been singing to me since I was a child, sent by my mam on a holy mission. So tell me."

I close my eyes, not wanting to watch this madness.

"We need to find the rift. This house is on a weak spot, so there must be a spot that's weaker than any other. Mister Sneed, what's the weakest part of the house? The place where most of the ghosts have been seen?"

Ten pounds says the morgue. "That would be the morgue."

I sigh. "No chance you were going to say gazebo, is there?"

Mister Sneed leads us down to the basement, which was converted into the Morgue. "Urgh. Talk about Bleak House." The Doctor said, looking around the room. There are still a few cadavers lying under white sheets.

"The thing is, Doctor, the Gelth don't succeed, 'cos I know they don't. I know for a fact there weren't corpses walking around in 1869."

"Time's in flux, changing every second. Your cozy little world can be rewritten like that. Nothing is safe. Remember that. Nothing."

I could feel the anger rising in me. I shut my eyes, making sure that if they went silver, no one would notice. I felt the room get colder. And then I felt the coming.

"Here they come." A form of the gelth comes out of a gas lamp.

"You've come to help. Praise the Doctor. Praise him."

I tried one last time to help Gwyneth. "Promise you won't hurt her."

"Hurry! Please, so little time. Pity the Gelth." They completely avoided that topic. Great. This can't go wrong at all.

"I'll take you somewhere else after the transfer. Somewhere you can build proper bodies. This isn't a permanent solution, all right?"

Gwyneth looked happy. "My angels. I can help them live."

I sigh, fearing the worst. "A bootprint doesn't look like a foot." I comment.

The Doctor grinned, oblivious. "Okay, where's the weak point?"

The Gelth...thing floated over, until it was under an arch. "Here, beneath the arch."

"Beneath the arch." And there is a flash. Gwyneth and the Doctor don't seem to notice, but there's suddenly more than just the five of us humaniods down here. I glance at the new arrival, to see the blonde from the Valiant. She winks at me, and steps underneath the arch with Gwyneth.

"You don't have to do this." I cry, hoping to stop everything from happening. Last time she showed up, nothing good happened.

"My angels." A shiver runs up my spine. It was starting.

The Gelth begin talking. "Establish the bridge. Reach out to the void. Let us through!"

"Yes, I can see you. I can see you. Come!"

"Bridgehead establishing."

"Come to me. Come to this world, poor lost souls!"

"It has begun. The bridge is made." Gwyneth opens her mouth and blue gas comes out.

"We've by-passed not good and hit very bad." I comment. The Doctor doesn't even turn my way.

"She has given herself to the Gelth. The bridge is open. We descend." The blue image turns red and grows sharp phantom teeth. "The Gelth will come through in force."

Dickens cries out, "You said that you were few in number."

"A few billion. And all of us in need of corpses." The dead start getting up as the Gelth come pouring out, creating a whirlwind of air in the room. A corpse grabs Sneed and kills him by snapping his neck.

"I think it's gone a bit wrong." The Doctor comments, backing up. I follow him.

"We need bodies. All of you. Dead. The human race. Dead."

"And that's where I come in." A voice calls. A man in an military jacket comes down, and I recognize him as Captain Jack Harkness. He comes up and walks over to us. "Rose. Doctor."

"Who the hell are you?" The Doctor demands.

Jack frowns. "Ah, too soon. I'm part of your future, which you should probably forget when you get the chance." He said. He reaches for the Doctor, plants a kiss, and the moves to me, gives me a kiss, then runs for the arch. He disappears in a flash of light.

"Right." The Doctor commented. Reevaluating the situation, the Doctor looks at Gwyneth. "Stop them! Send the back now!"

"Three more bodies. Convert them. Make them vessels for the Gelth." The Doctor and I get backed up against a metal grate. Dickens runs off. The Doctor sonics open the gate and closes it shut, where we are now currently trapped. I sigh.

"But it's 1869. How can I die now?" I ask.

"Time isn't a straight line. It can twist into any shape. You can be born in the twentieth century and die in the nineteenth and it's all my fault. I brought you here."

"It's not your fault. I wanted to come."

He laughs. "What about me? I saw the fall of Troy, World War Five. I pushed boxes at the Boston Tea Party. Now I'm going to die in a dungeon in Cardiff."

"It's not just dying. We'll become one of them." I look at the corpses "We'll go down fighting, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Together?"

He smiles. "Yeah." He grabs my hand. "I'm so glad I met you."

I give him a smile. He could barely imagine how much I returned the sentiment. "Me too."

At that moment, Dickens runs back into the room. "Doctor! Doctor! Turn off the flame, turn up the gas! Now, fill the room, all of it, now!"

"What're you doing?"

"Turn it all on. Flood the place!"

The Doctor grins. "Brilliant, gas."

I glare at the two of them. "So, what? We choke to death instead?"

"Am I correct Doctor? These creatures are gaseous."

The Doctor grins. He opens the gate and begins forcing his way through the room. "Fill the room with gas, it'll draw them out of the host. Suck them into the air like poison from a wound."

The corpses start shuffling towards Dickens. "I hope, oh Lord, I hope that this theory will be validated soon, if not immediately."

The Doctor rips a gas pipe from the door. "Gwyneth, send them back. They lied. They're not angels."

Gwyneth looked at him, "Liars?"

"Look at me. If your mother and father could look down and see this, they'd tell you the same. They'd give you the strength. Now send them back!"

I found it getting hard to breathe, which was strange for me, given as I had spent sixty years with no air. Blasted potion. I voiced this observation aloud.

"Charles, get her out."

"I'm not leaving."

"Always a Gryffindor miss, but you need to." Gwyneth commented. "They're too strong."

"Remember that world you saw? Rose's world? All those people. None of it will exist unless you send them back through the rift."

"I can't send them back. But I can hold them. Hold them in this place, hold them here. Get out." She takes out a box of matches, and I struggle to stand up.

"You can't!"

"Leave this place!"

The Doctor turned to me. "Rose, get out now. Go now. I won't leave her while she's still in danger. Now go!" Dickens all but drags me out of the house. We're on the street when we hear the explosion. I fall to my knees.

"Oh god." I said, tears welling up in my eyes. The Doctor appears a moment later, and I stand and fling my arms around his neck. "She didn't make it."

He pulls back and looks at me. "I'm sorry. She closed the rift."

Dickens sighs. "At such a cost. The poor child."

"I did try, Rose, but Gwyneth was already dead. She had been for at least five minutes." I flinch.

"What do you mean?"

"I think she was dead from the minute she stood in that arch."

"But she can't have. She spoke to us. She helped us. She saved us. How could she have done that?"

Dickens had the answer. "There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Even for you, Doctor."

I held in a sob. "She saved the world. A servant girl. No one will ever know."

The Doctor guided us back towards the TARDIS. "Right then, Charlie boy, I've just got to go into my, er, shed. Won't be long." The Doctor said.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked, grinning slightly at the man.

"I shall take the mail coach back to London, quite literally post-haste. This is no time for me to be on my own. I shall spend Christmas with my family and make amends to them. After all I've learned tonight, there can be nothing more vital." I smiled, when inside I wanted to cry. My family. My friends. Harry, Ron, Luna, the twins.

"You've cheered up."

"Exceedingly! This morning, I thought I knew everything in the world. Now I know I've just started. All these huge and wonderful notions, Doctor. I'm inspired. I must write about them."

I gave the Doctor a glance, "Do you think that's wise?"

"I shall be subtle at first. The Mystery of Edwin Drood still lacks an ending. Perhaps the killer was not the boy's uncle. Perhaps he was not of this Earth. The Mystery of Edwin Drood and the Blue Elementals. I can spread the word out, tell the truth."

"Good luck with it. Nice to meet you. Fantastic."

"Bye then, and thanks." I said, kissing his cheek.

He blushes a little. "Oh, my dear. How modern. Thank you, but I don't understand. In what way is this goodbye? Where are you going?"

"You'll see. In the shed."

"Upon my soul, Doctor, it's one riddle after another with you. But after all these revelations, there's one mystery you still haven't explained. Answer me this. Who are you?"

The Doctor grins. "Just a friend, passing through."

"But you have such knowledge of future times. I don't wish to impose on you, but I must ask you. My books. Doctor, do they last?"

"Oh, yes!"

"For how long?"

"Forever. Right. Shed. Come on Rose."

"In the box? Both of you?"

"Down boy. See you." We walked into the box.

I give him a look. "Doesn't it change history if he writes about blue ghosts?" I ask, intimately familiar with his work to know blue ghosts never popped up.

"In a weeks time it's 1970, and that's the year he dies. Sorry. He'll never get to tell his story."

I sigh. "He was so nice."

"But in your time, he was already dead. We've brought him back to life, and he's more alive now than he's ever been, old Charlie boy. Let's give him one last surprise." He grins at me, and pulls a few knobs, and the TARDIS goes into the time vortex.

I smile back at him, and am about to sit back in the jump seat when I notice there is a bag on it. I pick it up, recognizing it as my money purse, which I gave to Gwyneth. Attached is a note:

Dear Miss Rose,

Thank you for the thought, but I have been saved by a woman named Jenny. She says I won't be needing this where I am going.

Sincerely,

Gwyneth