AN: Thanks for your comment. The grandparents will only become part of the story later again. First of all, Emma will have no contact. Also because Thomas doesn't want to have any contact to them. But who knows what happened when Emma gets older...

William,

it's so boring here without you. Nobody has time to play with me. Mrs. Patmore and Daisy are busy with Mrs. Bird's soup kitchen. But I'm not supposed to tell anyone, and because I told you, you're not supposed to tell anyone either.

Can you play Black Jack? My grandpa taught me when we visited him. I even won against Daddy yesterday. Mrs. O'Brien said he let me win on purpose, but Anna said that's not true, and Anna doesn't lie.

I'll be six years old soon. I'm already counting the days until my birthday. Do you know what that means? I'm a big girl now and I'm starting school in September! I'm so excited!

Daddy has to work a lot again and have "adult talks" with Mrs. O'Brien. It's not fair. He promised to play with me, but he only finds time for her and not for me.

But I'm allowed to visit my friends at the village square once a week. Mrs. Patmore or Mrs. Hughes take me, and Mr. Moseley brings me back in the evening. That way, I can play for half a day. But it's not the same. It's more fun with you.

When are you coming home? Will you come for my birthday? I invite you. I miss you so much! I want you to carry me piggyback, play the piano, and read. Can't you just come home? You've been away for so long.

Please stay safe.

love,

your Emmi

Emma sat on the floor, her shoes in front of her, desperately trying to tie the bows. She had observed other children doing it and now wanted to try it herself. However, her little fingers seemed to lack the dexterity to form the bows.

Thomas stood impatiently beside her, glancing at the clock. Breakfast would be served any moment now, and he had to hurry to report to Dr. Clarkson. "Come on, Emma," he said, slightly annoyed. "We don't have all day. I need to work."

Emma looked up at Thomas and saw the expression of impatience on his face. She didn't want to disappoint him, but she also wanted to learn to tie her shoes by herself. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the frustration building up inside her.

"I want to do it by myself," Emma mumbled defiantly, sniffling.

Thomas sighed and knelt down beside her. "Emma, I understand that you want to try it on your own. But we really need to hurry now. I'll help you this time, and then you can try it by yourself next time, okay?"

Emma looked at him with big, sad eyes, her lower lip trembling. She didn't want to give up, but she also didn't want her father to tie her shoes for her. "No," she said softly, "I want to do it by myself."

Thomas sighed once again, but he could sense Emma's determination. "Alright," he finally said, smiling gently, "keep trying." He sat down on his bed and watched Emma.

Emma focused and tried to tie the bows. She struggled with the shoelaces, her little fingers trembling with effort. Minutes passed, and Thomas grew increasingly restless. "I'll do it," he decided, jumping up from his spot.

"No!" Emma squealed.

"But you can't do it," Thomas spoke with a hint of anger and impatience.

"But I'm a big girl!"

"Oh really?" Thomas raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Then why can't you tie your shoes if you're supposedly such a big girl?"

Emma felt a lump forming in her throat. She felt hurt by Thomas' words, and her determination slowly faded away. With trembling hands, she reached for the shoelaces once again. She tried to form the bows, but her fingers were still too clumsy, and the knots simply wouldn't hold. Tears welled up in her eyes once more as she felt frustration overwhelming her. Thomas had knelt down by now and, against her will, tied her shoes for her.

"Mrs. Hughes," Emma spoke softly, "I have a letter for William."

"I see," she smiled affectionately, "I can take it to the post office later."

"No. I want to bring it myself," she insisted.

And so, Mrs. Hughes accompanied the excited Emma to the village post office. Emma proudly held the letter to William in her hands, which she had written with love and effort the day before. She could hardly wait for him to receive her letter and know how much she missed him.

As they entered the post office, they were greeted by a friendly postal clerk. Emma held the letter tightly against her chest and then carefully handed it to the postman. She felt a little sad letting go of the letter, but she knew it was the only way to ensure that it reached William.

Emma was fed up with the adults not respecting her independence, and so she had entered the notorious phase of defiance. Emma had decided that it was time to assert her own will, and she was already showing it passionately during lunch. She stubbornly refused to accept the balanced meal that Mrs. Patmore had prepared. Instead, she insisted on having only chocolate biscuits.

"What's gotten into you today?" Thomas sighed in frustration.

Emma folded her arms defiantly across her chest and shook her head. "I'm a big girl now and I want to eat chocolate!"

Mister Carson grumbled to himself. The defiant behavior of the young child was driving him insane. Therefore, he tried to reason with Emma using stern authority. "Emma Grace, I will not tolerate disobedience. You will eat what's on the table and not make any special requests. There are rules here that you must also abide by."

Emma defiantly looked up at Mister Carson and blurted out, "I don't like vegetables, and I will never eat them!"

Mrs. Patmore couldn't understand the whims of the little girl. "But yesterday you said you liked vegetable casserole. And now you don't? Why don't you like it anymore?"

Emma frowned and shrugged. "I just don't like it anymore. I'd rather have chocolate biscuits or pancakes."

"But Emma, the food tastes delicious and you used to enjoy the vegetable casserole," Anna tried unsuccessfully to convince the child.

Emma shook her head vigorously. "No, I don't want to! If you like gross food, then you can eat it," she whined and pushed her plate to the center of the table with her hand.

"My food is not gross! Such impertinence," Mrs. Patmore crumpled the dishcloth, threw it on the table, and stomped off in a huff.

Thomas let out a frustrated sigh as he leaned back in his chair. Whatever was going on with the child today, he didn't understand. Emma had never been so difficult before. But today, even the smallest things led to endless discussions and conflicts.

"Emma, I understand that you have certain preferences, but we can't eat whatever we want every day. We eat what Mrs. Patmore manages to cook for us, taking into account the preferences of all the staff and not just yours," Mrs. Hughes explained. "And Mrs. Patmore goes to great lengths to conjure up excellent meals for us."

Reluctantly, she took a few bites of the vegetable casserole.

It seemed as if Emma had made it her mission to fight against every instruction and rule of the day. She contradicted anyone who tried to guide her, whether it was in daily activities or the simplest instructions. It was a phase where her independence and desire to make her own decisions were expressed with all her might. The struggle continued even with the simplest tasks. And so, two whole weeks passed. Two whole weeks in which Emma also eagerly hoped for a response from William. Every time the postman came, she would excitedly run to the door, hoping that he had a letter for her. But the days went by, and no letter arrived.

Squatting on the floor, the young girl built her imaginary world with building blocks. A farm with animals and then the wooden train that took Bello the dog to various places in the servants' hall.

"Daisy, you don't need to worry about William," Mrs. Hughes took a big step over the building blocks, "I spoke to His Lordship earlier. He said you shouldn't get upset until we know more."

"But he's missing! I mean, no one knows where he is... just like Captain Crawley!" she spoke desperately.

Emma tried to process what was said. Missing. William. But what does that mean? William is at the front, right? Surely, they would find him there, wouldn't they? Or was William playing hide and seek? In the game, Emma is quite good; she would definitely find him quickly.

"There are a hundred possible explanations."

"Oh yes," O'Brien said, "And one of them is that they're dead," looking at the shocked faces, "No, don't get me wrong. I hope they're not, but we should face the truth."

"What may be the truth and what may as well not be," Mrs. Hughes said, her gaze sweeping across the floor, "You know very well that you're not allowed to make a mess here!" she admonished, "Better tidy up before Mr. Carson sees it."

"No," the childish voice piped up. Thomas, who was enjoying a drag of his cigarette, grinned mischievously. He found this cheeky attitude of the child towards Mrs. Hughes and Carson quite amusing.

"I beg your pardon?"

"N-O," Emma spelled out the two letters loud and clear, as if Mrs. Hughes wouldn't understand the word otherwise.

"Emma Grace, you will clean up here immediately!"

"No," she repeated her word once again. With her arms crossed over her chest, she sat defiantly on the floor.

Thomas and O'Brien exchanged amused glances as Mrs. Hughes turned red with anger, "This is not the right moment to argue with me about it. I gave you a task, and all I ask of you is to put your toys aside."

"But I'm still playing!"

"Then you're not playing anymore!"

A silence fell. The child visibly considered whether she should continue testing her limits. And so, Emma merely kicked the building blocks to the side with her foot. However, the side happened to be the threshold to the servants' hall, making it easy for any servant to stumble over the toys.

Mrs. Hughes now placed a box directly in front of the child, "You will put all your things in here now!"

"No!"

"Don't cross me, Emma Grace! Clean up! Immediately!"

"You can't command me."

"And why do you say that?"

"I'm a child. I'm not supposed to work hard."

Thomas's grin grew wider. The child had truly learned her lesson. After the incident with serving, he had made it clear to her that she shouldn't lift a finger. Although he found Emma's defiant phase quite exhausting himself, he greatly enjoyed seeing how she infuriated old Carson or Mrs. Hughes.

"Do you find this amusing, Thomas?" Mrs. Hughes snapped before turning back to the child, "Household chores are indeed tasks that young children can do, especially when it comes to their own toys!"

"But you have servants for the chores!"

"Stop being cheeky," Anna said, appearing suddenly behind Mrs. Hughes, "You caused the mess, so it's only fair that you clean it up."

"No!" Emma now looked to Thomas for help, "Daddy! I don't want to clean up!"

Thomas was relieved to have a cigarette in his mouth. He took a drag in slow motion before exhaling the smoke slowly, buying time for an appropriate response. According to Mrs. Hughes, he took too long, "Your father won't be able to help you here either. He may give orders upstairs, but down here, I still call the shots! And if I demand that you tidy up your toys, then you darn well better do it!"

"You've caused enough drama," O'Brien chimed in, "Behaving like a little child."

Emma not only jumped up in anger but also yelled, "I am a little child! And I don't want to clean up now!"

"Well, well. Those are quite different tones from you. What happened to the big girl?" O'Brien grinned mischievously. That was enough, and Emma ran away.

"With that smug grin of yours, you won't be able to raise a child for long, Sergeant Barrow," instructed Mrs. Hughes, "The child knew how to appreciate her manners perfectly well before you showed up."

Thomas felt anger welling up inside him, but he knew he had to stay calm. He took a step towards Mrs. Hughes and said in a serious tone, "Mrs. Hughes, I know Emma is being difficult right now, but she's still a child." Thomas looked towards the door through which Emma had just run away and decided to go after her.

He found Emma outside on a bench, her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyes still filled with anger and frustration. Thomas sat down beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's sometimes hard to do things we don't want to do. But sometimes, we have to take responsibility and complete our tasks. It's part of growing up."

Emma looked up at him and sniffled. "But I don't want to grow up anymore, Daddy. I just want to play and have fun."

Thomas smiled sadly and stroked her hair. "I know, my little dwarf. But you have to understand that we all have certain responsibilities. Cleaning up is one of them. It doesn't mean you can't play and have fun anymore, but it's important that we also fulfill our duties."

Emma sighed and slowly lowered her arms. "I don't want to have duties, Daddy. I just want to do what I want to do."

"That's why you're putting up such a fierce resistance," Thomas sighed. Emma snuggled up beside him, "Why is William missing? Why can't he just come home?" she asked with a mix of sadness and curiosity.

"He went voluntarily. He really wanted to go to war..." Thomas began to explain, "It can be very confusing at the front, and one can easily get lost. William knew that when he volunteered for the war."

"But you didn't get lost," Emma stated.

"It's different. I am a medic. But I'm sure William will get in touch with you once he's back with his regiment."