AN: Thank you so much for all your comments!

"What about you, Thomas? How long do you plan to stay here?" Daisy asked, interested.

"Well, now that the last wounded soldiers are gone, I suppose I'm unnecessary. I'll be reporting to Major Clarkson, but I doubt he'll keep anyone..." Thomas replied.

"I suspect the hospital will go back to what it was before the war," Anna remarked.

"Where do you plan to go then?" Daisy asked curiously.

"What's it to you?" Thomas responded dismissively. Emma looked up from her homework, wondering where they would go if they had to leave Downton. But before she could ponder further, Thomas extinguished his cigarette and disappeared with O'Brien in tow. Emma still couldn't understand why her father was friends with such a wicked witch. Lately, it felt like he was excluding her more often. He seemed to have some secret, and only O'Brien seemed to know what it was.

A few days later, on her way home, Emma had to look twice to understand that Thomas and O'Brien were coming towards her.

"Dad, where are you going?" she asked, curious.

"Come with me, and I'll show you," he grinned. Thomas led her into an old shed where dozens of food supplies were stored - flour, sugar, and canned rations.

"You asked me what comes next," Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, "I'll be making some deals at the market." He purposely avoided mentioning the black market. He couldn't have his child going around the village, proclaiming that he was involved in illegal activities.

"But we'll stay in Downton, won't we?"

"We'll see," he said after another puff of his cigarette, turning to O'Brien. Emma observed her father and O'Brien discussing the food supplies. It was obvious that it was something secretive, and she felt a certain tension in the air. She knew her father didn't want her talking about it.

As they finished their conversation, Thomas turned back to his daughter. His face now wore a loving smile. "Come, Emma," he said, taking her hand, "It's time to go home."

They left the shed and started heading home. Emma couldn't completely suppress her curiosity and asked cautiously, "Daddy, what were you discussing in there?"

Thomas leaned down to her, "Sometimes there are things that adults need to talk about, but they're not meant for children." Emma nodded, though not entirely satisfied with the answer.

It was one of those afternoons again when she was feeling bored. Her friends in the village were busy, her dad was occupied with his new job, so Emma sought the company of Tom Branson. The two had become a well-coordinated team when it came to fixing the car. Emma skillfully handed him tools and held the flashlight while he tinkered under the hood.

Emma sat on a toolbox while Tom raved about Ireland, "You know, in Ireland, there's a legend about leprechauns. These little mischievous beings are said to play pranks and sometimes like to hide things. People say that if you've lost something, it must have been the leprechauns."

Emma laughed and asked, "Do you believe in leprechauns, Tom?"

Tom also laughed and replied, "Well, I'm not quite sure, Emma. There are so many stories and superstitions about leprechauns in Ireland. Some people firmly believe in them, while others consider it nonsense. But it's always nice to listen to such stories and believe in the magic and the mysterious, isn't it?"

Emma nodded enthusiastically, "Mysterious stories are the best."

"You're right," Tom said, "Ireland has many more fascinating facts. Did you know that there are more sheep than people in Ireland?"

Emma shook her head and looked at Tom in astonishment, "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Ireland's green meadows are the perfect home for sheep, and they shape the landscape. It's a beautiful sight when you drive through the Irish countryside and see all the sheep," Tom explained.

"That sounds amazing," raved Emma, "I'd love to travel to Ireland and see all those things and meet a lep-re-chaun."

"You can definitely do that when you're older," said Tom encouragingly, "Ireland is a beautiful country. You'd surely love it."

The two spent the rest of the evening exchanging funny stories about Ireland, and Emma learned even more fascinating facts about the country. It was a wonderful afternoon filled with laughter and wonder when suddenly the garage door opened.

"Tom, I'm ready. Let's go," called a familiar voice. Emma looked up surprised and recognized Lady Sybil Crawley with a suitcase in her hand.

"I'm here," Tom replied, wiping his hands on a cloth before standing up, "You want to drive today?"

"There's nothing keeping me here anymore," Sybil said with a smile, "I want to finally lead my own life."

"Are you really ready to come with me to Dublin?"

"Yes, I am." Sybil's gaze wandered around the garage and landed on Emma, "Emma? What a surprise. What are you doing here?"

"Good evening, Lady Sybil. I'm helping Tom with his work."

"That's very diligent of you, Emma," praised Lady Sybil, smiling warmly. "Tom is lucky to have you as an assistant."

Emma blushed slightly with joy at the compliment. "Thank you, My Lady."

"We should leave before anyone notices our plan," Sybil said.

"You're right," Tom agreed.

"Where to?" Emma asked.

"Dublin," Tom answered without realizing that Emma might reveal the plan.

"Can I come with you? I really want to see the lep-re-chauns!"

"I would love to take you, Emma," Lady Sybil said hesitantly, "But it's not fair to Thomas to take you with us secretly. I don't want him to worry about you."

"Please! I won't stay there. I will come back home! I just want to experience Ireland, to see if it's really as magical as in Tom's stories," Emma begged with her famous pout. Even Mr. Carson couldn't resist that face, but Lady Sybil sadly shook her head.

"You can come and visit us, I promise. And until then, I'll write you entire novels about leprechauns and Ireland," she suggested.

"Dad doesn't have to find out that I'm gone. I can tell him I'm staying at Ruby's."

"We're not even going to start with that, Emma. We won't lie to Thomas."

"But I want to have my first adventure, like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn or Alice."

Sybil smiled gently and lovingly stroked Emma's head. "I understand your yearning for adventures, Emma, and I admire your curiosity and spirit of exploration. But it's important to be honest and maintain trust. Your father would be very worried if he found out that you just disappeared."

Emma sighed disappointedly and nodded, "Alright..."

"I have a little surprise for you, Emma. Wait a moment," she said, opening her suitcase and pulling out a beautiful hair clip. The clip was adorned with sparkling stones and radiated in a summery yellow.

Sybil approached Emma and carefully secured the hair clip in her hair. "It's beautiful, Lady Sybil," Emma whispered in astonishment, "Thank you."

"You deserve it, Emma. You are such a sweet and lively girl, and I want you to always remember us, even when we're no longer here," Sybil explained lovingly.

"I will miss you," Emma admitted, her eyes slightly moist.

"And we'll miss you," Tom added, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, "Do you promise me something, Emma?" Tom asked seriously.

Emma looked at him expectantly, and Tom made his request, "You must promise us not to tell anyone about our plan. It's essential that no one knows where we're going – not even your father should find out about it."

Emma nodded solemnly. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Goodbye, Emma," Lady Sybil smiled and embraced the girl tenderly.

With one last look at the garage and the place she had called home for so long, Sybil took Tom's hand, and they got into the car. Emma was left alone, feeling her heart filled with excitement and sadness. Luckily, Emma found out the next day that Sybil had returned.

Emma lay on her stomach on her bed, her homework spread out in front of her. She sighed. The teacher insisted on having the first exam at the end of the week, a dictation with many difficult words. Emma wrote the words in her notebook one by one. They were given a practice text, but she couldn't dictate and write at the same time, so she focused on the challenging list of 35 words.

The squeaking door made the child look up. Her father entered, his black coat covered in white powder. Just in time, Emma quickly covered her mouth with her hand, hiding her amused face, but he could still hear her laughter.

"I see," Thomas said irritably, "Do you want to laugh at me too? And then lecture me on how much of a fool I am? How stupid I can be? Do you feel confirmed now that you have a silly, embarrassing, and dumb father?"

Emma removed her hand from her mouth, her laughter instantly vanishing from her face. Instead, she looked at him with compassion. He began to take off his hat and coat, unbuttoning his shirt and then tossing it in a crumpled heap onto the armchair. He kept only his white t-shirt on, changed into clean trousers, and then flopped backward onto his bed. Desperately, he ran his hand through his hair.

Emma watched the entire scene in silence, unsure whether to start a conversation or wrap her arm around him in comfort. She couldn't quite figure out her father's mood. Sometimes he was very affectionate, and she had no reservations about playing, talking, or hugging him. Then there were moments when he was irritable, moody, and rather snappy.

"You're not foolish," she spoke softly, "and not embarrassing," she added gently, "Or dumb." She sat cross-legged on her bed now. "You're amazing." Emma fell silent, and an uncomfortable silence settled in. Thomas had turned to look at her, propping his head on his hand, his elbow supporting him on the bed.

"Look at me... I let a stranger deceive me. How could I have been so gullible?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but what I see is my dad."

"You're too good for this world," Thomas stated.

"Is it because of your new job?"

Thomas sighed, sat up straight, and now faced the child directly, "The plans have changed. I won't be working at the market anymore; I'll look for a job elsewhere."

"Oh."

"Don't worry," Thomas placed his hand on Emma's knee, "I'll find something good for both of us, okay?"

Emma nodded, "I know, Dad."

Thomas now reached for her English notebook, flipping through it and stopping at the word list. "Dictations..." he noted, "Adventure in the forest – come on, write it down – Adventure in the forest is the title," Thomas scanned the word list again to be able to invent a story. Emma diligently noted down the title. For her 6 years, she had quite a tidy handwriting, a bit scribbly, but legible.

"Emma and his Lordship Isis's dog are running through the forest," dictated Thomas. And so, Emma could prepare herself well for her first exam in grammar and spelling. And her father was no longer so moody.

Emma possessed a secret talent for eavesdropping on conversations not meant for her ears. In this way, she overheard a conversation between her father and Anna in the staircase.

"Can you lend me some money?" Thomas asked hopefully, "I just need a few pennies."

"But promise me that you'll use the money only for Emma," the young maid reminded him.

"Yes... She has her birthday in three days. You'll get the money back as soon as I find work."

"Keep the money, Thomas," Anna said, handing him a few pennies, "I'm doing it for Emma, not for you."

It worried the girl. They were poor. Her dad had no money left, and he couldn't find work.

Emma's seventh birthday fell on a Saturday, which meant she didn't have to go to school, and if her father hadn't woken her up, she could have slept in. Thomas sat on the edge of the bed. With his uninjured hand, he stroked his daughter's hair, "Wake up, my little dwarf," he spoke gently. Emma stretched slightly, her eyes still closed, turning her back to him in her new sideways sleeping position, drifting back into her dreamland.

Thomas sighed, "I actually wanted to spare you this on your birthday, but you leave me no choice," and he started tickling the little girl. Emma's eyes flew open, laughing as she tried to free herself from his hands. Instead, she ended up entirely in Thomas's arms, and he held her tightly against his chest. "Happy birthday, my little dwarf," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. Almost absentmindedly, he gazed deeply into her blue-gray eyes. It was in moments like these that he could hardly believe his luck. This little dwarf in his arms was his own child - his flesh and blood - and the resemblance between them was undeniable.

Emma joyfully received the small gift. She was still deeply worried that her dad was begging Anna for money and that he should have used the money more wisely, but she was excited to find out what Thomas got for her. In her hands was a bound copy of "Through the Looking-Glass" – the sequel to the book she loved so much, and her father used to read her a chapter every evening.

Emma happily went alongside Thomas. As always, he held her hand firmly in his own, as he always did when they were out together. The weather was also on their side - a wonderfully sunny and warm spring day.

"Will you read me a chapter every evening again?" the girl asked curiously.

"I thought this time you'd read to me?" Thomas chuckled.

"But you always do the funny voices!"

"Just for this one book, then you'll be in charge of reading," Thomas insisted. Emma nodded eagerly.

They strolled along meadows and fields. Thomas led her to a small lake where he crouched down and reached for one of the two papers in Emma's hands.

"Do you know how to fold a paper boat?" Thomas asked. Emma shook her head. She watched her dad intently as he transformed a simple sheet of paper - well, she had colored the two papers beforehand - into a small paper boat.

"Now it's your turn," Thomas urged his child. He provided numerous hints to fold the corners correctly.

"My boat will be faster," Emma grinned, and she hurried to the water's edge. Just in time, Thomas grabbed her arm before she could slip, "I don't think you should go swimming today." It was just a small slope downward, but one had to be careful. One wrong step and you'd slide straight into the deep lake. Only after Thomas safely stood at the water's edge did he reach out his hand to Emma, helping her find a safe and clean path down.

"On three, we'll let the boats go," he counted slowly. Emma's boat initially took the lead, and Thomas would have gladly given her the victory, but in the end, his boat was more precisely folded and glided faster across the lake.

Thomas hadn't had any plans for Emma's birthday. If he hadn't lost his money, he would have taken her out for a meal. But since Anna's money was only enough for a gift, he had to come up with something new for Emma's day. It worked out well for him that he was currently not working as a servant, so he had the time to spend the whole day with Emma.

"Did Mama also like to read books?" she asked curiously.

"Rarely."

"What did Mama like to do?"

Thomas thought about a good answer. 'She fought for women's rights - if you ask me, it was all nonsense. In the end, she only got into a lot of trouble with the police because not every demonstration went peacefully. She also didn't care much for rules and societal obligations; she had her own mind and will. Otherwise, she didn't really have any leisure time as she had to work from morning till night until she died at the young age of 20.'

"She was very good at baking. You would have loved her cakes," Thomas revealed.

"Better than Mrs. Patmore?"

"At least as good as Mrs. Patmore"

"Do you miss Mama?"

Thomas didn't know how to answer that. Sure, he considered Martha a good friend in some ways, but shortly after Emma's procreation in 1911, they had a falling out. It was probably not a good idea for a homosexual man and a lesbian woman to sleep together in the hope that it could make them 'normal.' So Thomas returned to Downton Abbey after his days off and never heard from her again.

"Do you miss her?" he wondered. Emma didn't even know her. How could she miss someone she had never even met?

"I wish Mama were still here; then we could be a real family."

"We are a real family, my little dwarf."

Emma now hopped onto a tree stump, stretching her hand out to her father, who held her steady as she balanced on the stump. "Why isn't Mama with us? How old was I when Mama went to heaven? I can't even remember her."

"You were very little," Thomas tried to avoid the question.

"How old was I, and why can't I remember Mama?"

"You were just a few weeks old," Thomas thought, "one month," he lied. Fortunately, Emma believed the lie immediately, so he added, "Let's change the subject. Today is your day, my sweet daughter."

"In front of us is where Ruby lives," she announced joyfully, pointing with her finger at a not-so-distant farm consisting of a main house and several barns.

"The Harris Farm," Thomas remarked surprised.

"Do you know the Harris family?"

"Oh yes, Maisie Harris was your wet nurse when you were just a baby."

It was now Emma who was pulling her father along. They didn't have to search for long on the Harris Farm. Ruby was sitting on a straw bale, petting a rabbit in her lap. Thomas had a faint suspicion that it was most likely Snowball, the Christmas dinner for the servants.

Emma beamed with happiness, "This is Ruby - my very best friend!" Ruby stood up from her straw bale and smiled at Thomas. "Hello, Mister Barrow."

Thomas extended his hand and shook Ruby's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ruby. Emma has told me a lot about you."

"I hope only the good stories," she grinned.

"That's really amazing," Maisie said with a smile. "It seems like fate is restoring old connections. Emma and Ruby have found a special friendship, and it's wonderful to see how close they are to each other."

Thomas looked surprised as he noticed Maisie Harris behind him. He remembered her well, a warm and caring woman who had lovingly taken care of his daughter when she was just a baby. Thomas nodded in agreement and lovingly watched the two girls playing around the farm.