A/N: ... Wow. This was a tough chapter to write. I know I originally said I was aiming to complete episode one within seven chapters, but while I was writing this chapter, I realised that I couldn't properly explore Cordelia's issues alongside Fanny's within one chapter. Alison's accident causes quite a stir amongst the ghosts, after all, and due to the hints I placed in the previous chapter in Cordelia's conversation with Jemima, I needed to make sure I properly set up the emotional turmoil and explanation behind this foreshadowing. I had considered trying to cram it all into one chapter, but I felt it would have gotten too long and there would have been too much to process. So, Chapter 7 will be the conclusion to Fanny's issues, with Chapter 8 hopefully concluding the episode. Also, just to give you a heads up regarding two things: though there is little mention of what happened to Alison in detail, there are brief mentions of blood and whatnot (especially a little later in the chapter with something... unrelated), so... you have been warned if you're not a fan of that. And in case anyone questions this, Cordelia has dark-blonde hair, but I frequently refer to her as just a blonde because it makes more sense grammatically. So if you do see switches between hair descriptions in some parts of the story, this is why. XD

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this fanfic and giving it attention. Currently can't see the view counter, but I'm assuming people are still engaging with this anyways. I do hope you enjoy the next instalment until Chapter 7 is complete, even though this one is erring on the serious side and less on the humour this time around.

Chapter 6: Unshackled Voice

After Alison's departure from the ballroom, an awkward tranquillity descended upon it that Cordelia was sure was connected to the ghosts' collective disappointment and her palpable relief that the embarrassing spectacle was over, for now at least. The Captain had wasted no time in regaining order after allowing the ghosts the opportunity to air their frustrations and then ushering everybody out to the common room downstairs to discuss a 'Plan B'. Everybody except Cordelia and Jemima that is, with the latter making her own way back to the pantry and the former using the ghosts' lively chatter as a welcomed distraction to duck into the hallway by the bathroom, ultimately evading the Captain's radar and leaving her alone in the now still and empty ballroom.

That is where Cordelia had remained since, seated on the windowsill closest to the same hallway and longingly admiring the grounds of the estate from the second floor, her back as straight as a pin and her hands clasped within the folds of her skirt. At some points, she did notice Alison come through from the direction of the staircase and then leave the same way, once to change her clothes and then another time where she headed to the bedroom to supposedly check on the radiator. But otherwise, Cordelia paid her surroundings little heed, getting lost within her pondering on earlier events instead as the morning light brightened outside.

'The plot brewed by the Captain was doomed before it had even commenced. Everyone foresaw the outcome as such, myself included. And yet… why is my relief on the embarrassing spectacle having ceased so brief?'

Upon initially seating herself on the windowsill, Cordelia had been glad she didn't have to waste her time watching the Captain make a fool of himself and forcing the others to do the same any longer. But since lingering in the ballroom on her own, it didn't take long for the doubts to settle in, especially as she continued to ponder if there was a way the situation could have been salvaged. That was the thought that lingered when she dared to sideways glance the opposite entrance to the ballroom, her blue eyes locked with the lone vase that Julian had attempted to move not too long ago. Jemima's words from earlier sounded inside her head, acting as the dreaded answer to her internal question.

"But why not tell them? You could scare the lady away with what you can do."

A pair of footsteps skipping down the hallway from the staircase eventually roused Cordelia from her thoughts, soon accompanied by random humming the Victorian ghost recognised to be from a familiar female voice with a West Country accent.

'Oh, thank heavens! A distraction at last!'

The young woman dared to peek over her shoulder at the doorway to the ballroom when she heard the footsteps and the humming halt there, finding herself staring at a smiling Mary loosely gripping at clumps of her dress' skirt in both hands.

"Oh, here ye be!" the Stuart-era peasant woman exclaimed, striding over to the biologically younger ghost with the usual spring in her step that Cordelia recalled Mary frequently having.

"Mary," Cordelia greeted with the slight bow of her head, waiting until the biologically older ghost had stopped beside her before she continued. "What brings you up here?"

"The Captain be wonderin' where ye'd got to," Mary explained while swaying her body from side to side a couple of times. "Is thoughts you'd be somewheres quiet."

"And you would be correct with that assumption," Cordelia replied through a small sigh, returning her gaze to the window. "Have you come to escort me downstairs on behalf of the Captain then?"

"Naw! Is here 'cause of Patrick." Cordelia turned her head to Mary slightly and raised a brow. "He wants to know what happened with Fanny yesterday mornin'."

'Ah, yes. Patrick did say he had discussed the matter with Thomas, Kitty and Mary ere he sought me out, did he not? And he did attempt to broach the topic with me a little earlier…'

A minute of silence passed before Cordelia looked to the window again and closed her eyes.

"Sadly, Mary, there is little for me to say," she responded quietly, lowering her head towards her lap. "It went about as well as anyone would have expected."

"So, Fanny dids nots talk?" Mary concluded despondently, to which Cordelia slowly shook her head. She dared to crack open an eye to catch Mary shrugging her shoulders and focusing on the glass of the window, her soot-covered face lighting up under the rays of the morning sun. "Oh, well. At least yous tried, though Is was sure she'd say somethin' to you."

"Why would you say that?"

"'Cause you stood up to that warty old crunk when she could not!" she answered bluntly, which left Cordelia blinking widely and sideways glancing the peasant woman to see her scowl and place her hands to her hips. "Ye doth speak as ye chooses! If Is was Fanny, Is be pleased to hath yous on my side."

Cordelia quickly averted her gaze to her lap at feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, conscious of a potential flush of embarrassment making itself known. Yet deep within her chest, a faint feeling of heaviness weighed her down, seemingly spurred by Mary's last words. Why did this feeling seem so familiar? Had she come across something like this before?

"You praise me too highly, Mary," she eventually mumbled, catching the Stuart-era woman shaking her head out of the corner of her eyes.

"Is don't thinks so! Beings honest, I believes yous be better than most here. You acts to help others. Yous did so with Fanny, and hath done so against the Captain." Seeing the biologically older ghost face her with a wide smile only seemed to intensify the heavy feeling in Cordelia's chest, as though she'd just been stabbed in the heart with a dagger. And her follow up comments certainly didn't help. "He be downs the stairs now, goings on 'bout not scarin' the wife and husband out the house. If ye knows a way to hush him up for us, yous hath done it by now, wouldn't yous?"

But Cordelia didn't dare to answer Mary's question aloud, nor did she dare to return her gaze to the peasant woman's. She turned her head to the side with a thick gulp and dug her fingers into her skirt, her eyes once again lingering on the still slightly askew vase on the table, taunting her from within her peripheral vision.

'Except that I do. Worse still, I could have prevented this outcome, could I have not? My supernatural faculties are difficult to justify as a mere trick of the eyes or lighting. I could have rescued the finale as they were spiralling towards failure. I could descend those stairs this instant and offer up my services to the Captain to assist in his plans.' She squeezed her eyes shut. 'Yet I choose to hold my tongue. I act in favour of preserving my sanity and solitude, leaving the rabble to fend for themselves. Is this a decision I am destined to regret, I wonder?'

A partially muffled, high-pitched scream from beyond the hallway where Alison's and Mike's bedroom was answered the blonde ghost's rhetorical question, breaking her out of her temporary spell with the sudden raise of her head. Cordelia and Mary whipped their heads to the hallway with wide blinks the moment the screaming was cut off by a loud thud from outside, the former of the two women raising a brow when it did.

"Was that Lady Button?" Cordelia enquired, returning her gaze to the window with a squint. "If so, she is much too early."

"That be not Fanny," Mary answered matter-of-factly, prompting Cordelia to face the Stuart-era woman with another forced blink as she pointed to the stairs. "She be downs the stairs with the Captain. I saws her."

Cordelia frowned and sideways glanced the hallway, her lips pursed slightly. "But if it is not Lady Button, then who on earth could it—?"

The blonde ghost cut herself off as her eyes landed upon the bathroom door at the other end of the hallway, a vague recollection of the scream she'd heard from Alison when she was in there earlier rousing the young woman back to her senses with bulged eyes.

The scream belonged to Alison.

"… Oh, heavens above!" Cordelia squeaked breathlessly and shared a wide-eyed glance with Mary, whose expression was all Cordelia needed to recognise the peasant woman had come to the same conclusion.

Before long, Cordelia was leaping from the windowsill and dashing straight for the hallway, with Mary following closely behind with her skirt gripped in clumps to help her manoeuvre faster.

"W-Waits for me!"

Upon moving through the maze of hallways and purposely avoiding phasing through the walls, the Victorian ghost was the very first of the pair to rush into the bedroom. She halted in the doorway and allowed her eyes to dart about the room for any sign of Alison, giving Mary the necessary time to catch up and linger behind the biologically younger ghost. Eventually, the two women caught sight of Julian standing by the wide and currently open window at the bedroom's far end, with the former MP swirling round at hearing Cordelia's and Mary's entrance. He stared at the other two ghosts with wide eyes for several seconds, freezing like a deer who had just been caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

The collective charge of hurried footsteps approaching the bedroom prompted Julian to shake his head and restore his senses, forcing a smile and giving the collar of his shirt a couple of gentle tugs; though it should not have been possible anymore, Cordelia swore she could see glimmers of sweat on the former MP's brow.

"M-Mary, C-Cordelia!" he stuttered, pausing to swallow thickly. "I-I see you came to investigate the commotion as well! G-Great minds think alike! Heh heh—!"

Mike's panicked voice shouting Alison's name from outside of the window prevented Julian from saying anything more and Cordelia and Mary from broaching any interrogative questions.

"Alison!"

Cordelia marched straight for the window without sparing Julian another glance, with the biologically older ghost stumbling to the right to get out of her path when she didn't stop to be wary of his presence. By the time the other ghosts were filing into the room, the blonde-haired ghost placed her hands upon the windowsill and leaned forward to peek outside, a loud gasp escaping her at sighting Alison (now dressed in a green jumper and blue jeans) lying on the grass underneath the window. She was sprawled on her back and had Mike crouched beside her repeatedly saying her name over and over and asking if she could hear him. It was difficult for Cordelia to see Alison properly from her current vantage point, but she swore there were splodges of blood around the right side of her face.

"My god…!" Cordelia exclaimed breathlessly, the hollowness that had briefly disappeared suddenly returning and leaving her clutching at the front of her shirt with a hand.

Everyone else barring Julian flocked to the window not long after Cordelia had reacted, all of them gathering around the frozen blonde ghost to get a peek at the spectacle on the ground. A collection of horrified gasps and noises made themselves known from the group as they allowed the situation they were dealing with to settle in, along with one or two muttered exclamations of shock Cordelia swore she heard from the likes of the Captain, Fanny and Thomas. Yet nothing the gathered ghosts did succeeded in pulling their fixed gazes from Alison lying still below them, nor the tense silence that descended upon them as Mike fumbled around with his phone (an item none of the ghosts would have recognised) between his hands and then placed it to his ear, using another hand to repeatedly shake Alison's closest shoulder as though he was trying to wake her.

And for a while that was how it remained, with the eight ghosts gathered before the window like a group of statues on display in a history museum. Eventually, Kitty became the one to shatter it when she found her voice, standing up from the window and holding her palms close to her mouth.

"How did this happen…?" she exclaimed breathlessly, her question managing to pull the rest out of their statue-like states with forced blinks and shakes of the head (barring Cordelia, who continued to grip onto the windowsill and observe what was going on below without fully focusing on it).

"You don't suppose she took a tumble, do you?" Pat enquired while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, which made the blonde-haired ghost frown as Mary piped up from her other side.

"From that height?" she said and gestured towards the window, only to crease her brow and crinkle her nose. "Tush and flops!"

Mary's comment prompted the ghosts to start talking all at once, the content of their words lost amidst the inaudible theories and panic. Yet Cordelia neglected to try to pay attention, keeping her focus on Mary's words instead.

'Mary is correct. Alison could not have merely fallen from the second floor by accident, let alone through this window.' The Victorian ghost's eyes followed along the window's rectangular frame, her lips pressing together as she scrutinised it. 'The window frame is too narrow.' She leaned her body backwards and gave the floor surrounding her feet a brief sweep. 'And there is nothing on the floor to obstruct her footing.'

Movement from her right side prompted Cordelia to lift her gaze to Fanny, who had stepped close to the window with her hands clasped against her abdomen. The elderly Edwardian woman was facing the doorway to the bedroom with a faint frown and narrowed eyes, a sight that caused the Victorian ghost to follow her suspicious gaze. In doing so, she caught Julian tiptoeing his way to the door, and Cordelia soon felt the stinging slap of realisation in the form of a sharp pain shooting through her chest.

Hadn't Julian been acting strangely the moment she and Mary had arrived?

"Julian Fawcett," Cordelia hissed, her icy form of address forcing said Julian to pause with his foot in mid-air before the doorway. The rest of the ghosts, upon falling silent, were left staring at the tiny Victorian woman with wide eyes, yet it did little to deter her from pushing on with her interrogative question. "Where are you going?"

Julian didn't answer or move straightaway, remaining stood still on one foot, his arms bent like a dog standing on its hind legs to beg for food and his back to the group of ghosts. That all changed when Fanny suddenly spoke up.

"Julian!" she barked and made the former politician visibly flinch. "Cordelia asked you a question! Stop being impolite and answer her!"

Julian hastily cleared his throat and righted himself, a hand fiddling with the knot of his tie as he turned to face Cordelia.

"W-Where am I going?" he repeated with a slight stutter. "Um…" Julian took a long pause—too long by Cordelia's count—before he tried to formulate an answer with the waggle of his finger and a smile so wide he was clearly stretching the skin on his face. "That— That is a very good question—"

"Cease your evasion, sir," Cordelia interrupted lowly and bluntly, causing the colour to drain from Julian's already pale face. "You were here ere mine and Mary's arrival. You did not happen to see anything, did you?"

Julian visibly and audibly gulped, his eyes darting about between the other ghosts now squinting at him, some with their hands to their hips (like Thomas, Mary and Kitty) and some with their arms crossed (like Pat and Robin). He delayed his response for at least a minute, which certainly wasn't helping his case, Cordelia mentally noted.

"W-Well, um…" he started as he tugged on the sides of his jacket with both hands, turning his gaze to the ceiling and rocking back and forth slightly on the soles of his shoes. "N-Not that I can recall…! I-I was here just before you came, a-actually…!"

"Then why do you look so shaken?" Cordelia pressed with a hint of sarcasm, making Julian gawk for a few seconds and stare at the shorter ghost as if she'd grown a second head.

"Why- Why wouldn't I be?!" he sputtered, his voice rising an octave or two. "I might be a politician, but I have feelings too!"

"Yet you are unusually nervous; a sign you are hiding something, perhaps?"

Cordelia's remarks finally prompted Julian to release an overexaggerated gasp and clutch a hand to his chest in a comical manner, making the blonde-haired ghost's lips twitch as she suppressed the urge to snort; he couldn't act to save his life.

"How dare you! You're acting like I snuck up behind her while she was leaning out of the window!"

Cordelia paused to look back at her invisible associates, only to find their jaws dropped with looks of horror plastered on each one of their faces (except for Fanny, who had tight lips, flaring nostrils and her hands balled into fists at her sides).

Her suspicions had been confirmed, and it only helped to feed the fire she could feel ignite between the emptiness and ache lingering in her chest.

"And how did you know she was leaning out of the window when you claimed your arrival was just before Mary and I arrived?" Cordelia questioned with forced emphasis as she returned her squinted gaze to Julian, prompting the former MP's eyes to grow wide upon realising he'd just fallen into Cordelia's trap.

His prolonged silence only served to feed the boiling sensation she felt rushing through her non-existent bloodstream, as though the blood she once held in her physical being had been turned to lava. Before she knew it, she was slowly marching forward with her hands balled into fists at her sides, her approach and scarlet flushed face causing Julian to hold up his palms in surrender and back towards the door out of alarm.

"You pushed Alison out of the window," she stated venomously. "You were originally in favour of killing Alison and Michael, after all. Not to mention the only ghost who possesses the physical capability of touch with the living."

"L-L-L-Let me explain—!" Julian attempted to say, only to cut himself off when the shorter blonde stopped before him and silenced him with the jab of her finger close to his nose, her voice gradually rising in volume the further she went on.

"You saw Alison leaning over the windowsill and decided to push her, did you not?!"

"That's enough, Cordelia!" the Captain said sternly, his statement quickly followed by the whip of his baton as he suddenly appeared to Cordelia's right side. He thrust the object between the former MP and Victorian woman to force the latter back two steps, leaving the blonde-haired ghost staring at the war veteran's frown when he continued to speak directly to her. "Now look here: a sacrifice has been made for the greater good—"

"The greater good?" Cordelia spat, her face scrunching up as she pointed accusingly at Julian once more. "This hard-hearted, deceitful, coward attacked an innocent living—potentially pushing her to her demise—and then attempted to hide his wretched sin, yet here you stand, claiming it was for the greater good?!"

"Yes," the Captain answered instantly and righted his posture with the roll of his shoulders, leaving Cordelia scowling and gaping as he clasped his baton behind him once more. "We wanted them out of the house. We only had two options: kill them or scare them off. Scaring them off didn't work, so Julian took the initiative to do what had to be done."

"Hear, hear!" Julian cheered and held up his palm.

But all this did was infuriate the Victorian woman further. Her lip curled, her shoulders hunched, and the still lingering emptiness slowly became engulfed by the fiery ire raging within her chest.

'I am not one for unleashing my anger unless I feel it is deserved. But just as ten-year-old Jane Eyre dared to gather her energies and retaliate against the antagonistic Mrs Reed, it would appear I have found two gentlemen worthy of being struck down by my ire.'

Cordelia leaned forward and opened her mouth in preparation to speak, almost in a similar manner to a dragon about to breathe fire towards the two intruders who had set foot into its lair. Yet she'd barely sucked in a breath before Fanny's shrill shriek beat her to it.

"How dare you!"

Cordelia closed her mouth and whipped round to see Fanny standing as she had been earlier, only this time her fists were shaking at her sides and her face had a red tinge to her cheeks (outside of the fact Cordelia saw Fanny had more wrinkles upon her forehead than usual). Despite her shock, Cordelia took this opportunity to calm herself down with deep, heaving breaths, with the other ghosts reacting to Fanny's sudden outburst with wide blinks and slight shuffling away from the Edwardian noblewoman (in the case of those such as Mary, for example).

"Julian should be admonished!" Fanny continued in kind and gestured to the open window beside her. "Who in their right mind believes it is acceptable to push a lady out of the window?!"

The Captain deepened his frown and started to step towards Fanny once he had regained his composure. "Steady on now, Fanny—"

"No!" she replied defiantly, forcing the Captain to come to a halt with his brows raising. "I won't, because Cordelia was right!" Said Cordelia leaned backwards when Fanny glanced her way and straightened her back with the tilt of her chin, having not expected the mention. "I can speak up in my own defence, especially when my supposed descendant almost suffered the same fate as myself!"

Kitty and Mary both gasped quietly and covered their mouths with their palms, the two women sharing wide blinks upon processing what Fanny had just revealed. Thomas pressed his lips together and covered his mouth with his fist as he turned to a wide-eyed Pat, whose jaw slacked. Julian's brows visibly rose with a blink, Robin immediately turned his eyes to the ground and then there was Cordelia… who closed her eyes and took in a sharp breath through her nostrils, not daring to say a word out of respect for Fanny.

After all these years, Fanny Button had finally unshackled her voice, and Cordelia didn't want to do anything to stop it.

When no one dared to speak up and comment, Fanny crinkled her nose and repeatedly jabbed a hand into her chest.

"Yes, you heard me right!" she continued to yell. "I was pushed out of the window by my husband 'George' because he thought I wouldn't keep his sordid little secret after finding him upon the groundskeeper—"

"Good lord," the Captain muttered under his breath with a squint.

"—and the butler upon him!"

Kitty furrowed her brow and sideways glanced Mary at this.

"Does she mean like a sandwich?" she whispered, prompting Mary to give a shrug of her shoulders.

"I'd 'ave guessed a 'man-wich'," she replied in kind.

"I believe the correct term is a 'Moroccan Tea Party'," Julian quietly corrected, finally causing Pat to release an exasperated huff.

"Guys, please," he shushed and directed a stern scowl between the three speakers, while Cordelia could only shake her head at the remarks.

'Can they not sense the sombreness that has veiled upon this room?'

Oblivious to the comments being made amongst the others, Fanny directed a finger towards Cordelia, who had since dared to crack open an eye. "I have not told a soul until now, but Cordelia was likely already aware of it, hence why she confronted Julian!"

"Me too," Robin remarked quietly and raised his hand slightly, with Thomas, Mary and Kitty all nodding and murmuring their own rounds of agreement respectively during Fanny's momentary pause.

"I watched all of that."

"So did I."

"So did Is."

"Wish I had…" Julian mumbled, only to receive a narrow-eyed glare from Cordelia that immediately caused him to close his mouth and run his fingers across it in a 'zipping' motion.

"And now you know why I keep screaming and falling from the window every night!" Fanny snapped as she returned her hands to her middle, focusing her next sarcastic words towards the Captain. "So, forgive me for reacting so strongly to the events that have transpired this day!"

A tense silence swallowed the room like a raging wave crashing violently against a cliff, with occasional glances stolen between the group still gathered by the window as Fanny took in shaky breaths and partially turned away to face the window. But when it came to Cordelia, she failed to suppress the slight smile that slipped onto her lips, one that she eventually caught Pat giving her, in addition to a double thumbs-up from the scoutmaster. Her inner anger had yet to subside, but in the least she could take comfort in the fact that Fanny had taken the words right out of her mouth, and that her talk with her the day before had finally yielded results.

'Well done, Lady Button. You took the seed I had planted and nurtured it into the gigantic oak it should be.'

Eventually, attention was drawn to the Captain when he loudly cleared his throat and strode forward until he was stood in the middle of the room, straightening his posture and keeping his baton clutched behind his back.

"I am terribly sorry for what you have endured, Fanny," he began calmly. "But what was done has been done, and there is nothing you can do to change it." Fanny lowered her head and closed her eyes at this, with the Captain turning to face Cordelia, "So, I must ask that you and—" and then cutting himself off when he found the Victorian ghost was no longer standing there. The Captain's brows raised as he did a quick 360 degree turn, his gaze wandering round the room in search of the biologically younger ghost alongside the rest. "… Where's Cordelia?"

Unbeknownst to the other ghosts, Cordelia had taken the opportunity to storm her way out of the bedroom and back towards the ballroom with quick strides, a hand gripping at the front of her shirt. With her former anger having cooled enough for her to keep it at bay, the hollowness in her chest had returned, accompanied by an ache she couldn't get rid of no matter how many heaving breaths she took. Fanny's regained confidence had been a nice little distraction, yet it apparently hadn't been enough to quell the turmoil still inside her, hence why she'd made her hasty exit.

Just what was this feeling she was experiencing? Why did it seem to be influencing her anger? And why did it seem so familiar? Those were the questions her mind continued to grapple with as she hurried across the landing and down the staircase, her intended destination being her bed chambers. But her mind was clouded, shrouded in a thick and impenetrable fog that muddled her senses to the point where she couldn't process where she was walking, seemingly following muscle memory alone.

It wasn't until she felt the searing pain between her shoulder blades that the clouds parted and restored her to her senses, by which time it was already too late. Next thing she knew, her knees had buckled amidst the intense burning and she was falling face first in front of the common room fireplace with a startled and pained cry.

As she hit the floor, her surroundings momentarily changed between blinks in a dizzy spiral, forcibly conjuring mental images, sounds and smells she'd long since pushed to the back of her mind: the faint burning and crackling of the fire casting dim lighting upon the darkened common room, the lingering and heavy scent of iron wafting into her nostrils from a bloodied hand that didn't belong to her lying inches away—

Another forced blink and screech later, Cordelia was returned to her earlier surroundings. She instinctively rolled over in a hasty retreat, phasing through the table and some of the furniture as she tried to get as far away as she could. Yet the damage had been done. Even as she lined herself with the entrance to the common room and scrambled to her feet the moment she felt the searing pain begin to fade, even as the terrible prickling feeling lessened the further she got from the common room with loud and erratic breaths, her mind had already begun to piece together the answers to her internal questions.

By the time she was staggering through the door to her bedroom, her eyes were stinging and welling with tears, her legs shaking and struggling to hold her up as she approached the bed. The blonde-haired ghost allowed her body to fall forward and collide with the quilt, a muffled sob escaping into the pillow her face was now buried in. Her chest tightened as the empty feeling continued to linger there, the horrible reminder she'd just experienced forcing her trembling arms to close round it with the closing of her eyes.

She wasn't just angry at Julian for pushing Alison out of the window. She wasn't just angry at the Captain for prioritising his feelings over strategy. She was angry at herself, knowing she could have potentially prevented all of this, knowing she'd repeated mistakes she swore she'd never do again.

Alison could die today, and it was all her fault.