“Father will be abashed and comment on my poor dressing decisions,” Harold finished rolling his eyes and walking towards his sister. “You look lovely. And you don’t dress this way everyday because?” he asked.

Will gave a smirk and sideways glance at her brother. Her hair glistened in the lamp light from the vanity. “You dyed it the colour he likes,” Harold frowned.

“I know,” she answered looking at his tie then straightening it. “It’s important to keep father happy after all, isn’t it.” She brushed over his shirt and he straightened his jacket. Show time, they thought.

Helena walked over toward her mother. She slumped her shoulders and slowed her pace. Her mother’s back was towards her and she had decided to turn around. The man, however, whom Mrs. Peabody was talking to, called over her shoulder. “Helena, your mother and I were just talking about you,” he chimed. Helena froze and pulled Alice in toward her. Alice let it happen. She wore red, her hand was being sweatily grasped at and she was walking around a place she didn’t want to breathe in let alone break something. The Carvington’s manor seemed to loom about her as Helena turned around and walked over to her mother. Alice leaned against her giving Helena support. Braver now Helena spoke to the two of them.

“Mother,” she smiled. Her mother kissed her cheek and looked her up and down which then grazed over to Alice.

“Helena, so good to see you. And who is this charming creature?” she asked. Helena only then realised how desperately she had been holding onto Alice’s hand.

“This is my,” she began but lost her thought. Alice chimed in.

“Alice. Her friend, Alice. Please to meet you Mrs. Peabody,” Alice announced and stuck out her hand. Mrs. Peabody took it and shook it lightly. Alice redirected her attention to the gentleman with her. “And you must be Mr. Carvington, Helena has told me so much about you,” she continued placing her hand out to Mr. Carvington.

Arthur Carvington took Alice’s hand and kissed it slightly. “Charmed, I’m sure,” he said slyly. Helena glowed with pride.

Shane kneeled at her bedside. She felt strange doing so but continued none the less. She folded her hands together and stretched them out over the bed. She looked up at the ceiling eyeing the splotched white paint job that adorned it. She sighed a deep sigh and exhaled slowly. She looked down at her comforter and slowly closed her eyes. A few seconds later, Shane’s mobile phone lit up and jingled a tune. Shane reached for it and spoke quietly, “Hello?”

“Shane? It’s Carmen,” came the voice on the other end.

The cab pulled up to a quaint looking house and Jenny slowly got out. The driver handed her bag from the trunk as Jenny gave him his money. “Thanks,” she smiled at him. He tipped his hat and clambered back into his cab driving off down the street leaving Jenny alone. She looked up at the house and cautiously walked up to the front door. Flowers lined the front of the white paneled house, bricks just lining underneath indicating the basement. Jenny tried the door and opened it. She walked inside and carefully closed the door behind her. She walked up the stairs to her right and followed the path around gazing at photos of various family members in old faded grey and brown print with large borders. She grazed the banister with her hand following the sound of a radio playing down the hall. She opened the door and an elderly woman sat in a chair holding a strange little black book. She looked up and smiled. “Oh, Jenny dear. You startled me.” Jenny placed her suitcase she had been holding with both hands down at her feet.

“Hello mother,” she whispered back to her.