Edith woke up after barely any sleep, due to the lighting in her room. Before fully opening her eyes, she thought about how strange it was that such bright light was peering through the curtains... It wasn't.

Edith opened her eyes and saw herself facing Patrick Crawley.

His face was nowhere as scarred as the last time she'd seen him, during the the first war.

Edith's heart fluttered, and she blushed. Patrick was back to his handsome self, but she was old, her red hair greying, wrinkles at the most unlikely of places. She was ashamed.

"P-Patrick?" She stuttered a bit, and this was all that was able to come out of her mouth. Gulping, she recomposed her thoughts "So I suppose Mary was right"

"Yes, she was, my dear Edith. And now, I have something to show you" He said cheerfully

I went up and held his hand, slowly as to not burn myself in the bright light that emanated from him. However, the hand was only a bit warm and she could hold on to it with no issues.

And then they flew right out of the window Edith hadn't known was opened. She was afraid of opening her eyes. But when she did, she saw the silhouette of the city of London right before her. She could even see the Tower of London! It was amazing, although also scary in a sense.

Edith and Patrick arrived at a house. Not just any house. At Downton. Edith had taken longer than usual to recognize it.

"Shall we go inside, milady?"

"Lead the way" She couldn't help but smile

And they entered the house. Just as she remembered the scenery: the first Christmas after which Sybil was born. Edith was a very young child, and she had thankfully forgotten that day. However, it now played like a movie in her head, except with good sound and many colors.

A young baby played with her new toys, the new addition to the family having too many to be counted. Mary was walking down the staircase with her new gorgeous purple dress. She wasn't much older than Edith, but already had a figure older women envied.

Edith was sitting in a chair near grandmama, listening to her ramble about how she just couldn't tolerate Impressionism and "that avant-garde nonsense" and experimenting with her new hat, which was way too big for her head and not at all complimenting. She couldn't remember now, but it was given to her by Aunt Rosamund. No one had given any gifts to her that night. She had been awkward as hell, and wanting to cry.

Her younger self left the room unannounced. She knew it was impolite, but little Edith couldn't take much more. She walked over to her room, only to be stopped by Elsie, a new beginner maid, who was seeing something on the corridor right besides it.

"Oh dear, what is it? Why are you going to your room? Sleepy already? Do you want me to call Nanny?"

"No..." She said, stifling the unladylike sniff she almost gave due to her crying "It's just, do you think it's fair that Sybil gets the most gifts, and Mary gets the best ones? All I got was an oversized hat, and it was from Aunt Rosamund!"

"You know what I think, dear?" She said calmly "Is it ever fair that anyone gets any less gifts than Sybil? Is it fair that some people don't get gifts at all? If we keep focusing so much on complaining about things that are not fair, we won't ever get our fair share. Work harder, be nicer, follow the rules. Maybe this way you'll get to be the favorite. And if the issue's the hat, let me see what I can do with a needle".

Edith, now hand in hand with Patrick, still had that hat. She'd forgotten about all of that, but she kept it. Maybe it was time for her to write to Mrs. Hughes

"What do you see?" Patrick questioned

"I see a girl, wanting to be looked at. To be noticed. Wanting to feel loved. I see a weak, foolish girl who thinks people can get things just as long as they worked hard. I see a woman who spent her life trying her best and only ever getting the scraps left by Mary!" She said, kicking the floor ever so slightly "Did you bring me here to enrage me?!"

"I see a girl who is strong. Or do you think Mary or Sybil would've stood a lifetime of being in the sidelines like you did? They have their own strengths, sure. But you have yours. They haven't endured nearly as much hardship as you did, and I can't bring myself to believe any of them would've gotten through it" Patrick recited solemnly "Don't go just yet. There's still more I want you to see"