Mrs. Potts had June ring Eliza’s house to tell her Father that she would be staying the night there, and that she would be taken good care of while she rested. She also insisted that Eliza slept for the night. So she took her to guest room, where Eliza went to bed.

In the sitting room downstairs, Mrs. Potts and June sat by the fire solemnly.

“What are we going to do?” asked June.

“Whatever she needs.” Mrs. Potts replied surly.

“But what about what she asked for?”

“That” she paused, “I trust her. She’s hurt, not stupid.”

“This may not go how she wants.”

“She’s aware. But that goes for everything my dear, not just the important things.”

June looked worried.

“June”

“Yes?”

“I won’t make you help her” She said, “I won’t even make you stay.”

“Ma’am, thank you but, I told you I’m never going to leave you. I owe everything to you.”

“Okay.” Potts smiled.

“I just hope things don’t get worse.” June twiddled her thumbs.

Looking towards the stairs Mrs. Potts said full of feeling, “Things always get worse, before they get better.”

How true those words would prove to be.

The morning came, and for once the light didn’t blind Eliza while she slept. She woke up not feeling very rested, but oddly a bit better. She sat up and saw her cleaned and dried clothes that she came in, next to a brand-new dress, socks, along with a hood and a box. She was shocked, and if it weren’t for her emotional block, not seeming to be able to feel, she may have cried. She reached over and opened the box, and they were new boots. She could tell by just looking at them that they were no expense spared items.

She put on the dress Clara gave her, braided her hair loosely. She stepped into the mirror and gazed at the simple design, dark grey color, and wave pattern at the trim and cuffs. It was a mourning dress. She gripped handfuls of the skirt, holding them tight. She was so grateful. It meant more than words could say. The kind of gesture she would only ever expect from Amelia.

She went downstairs and looked around for Mrs. Potts and June. Down the hallway, there was no sign in the first few rooms.

“Eliza, In here!” Mrs. Potts beckoned from the dining room. Eliza went down a bit further and saw them at the round, red-stained table.

She walked in and could smell sweets in the air. “Sit down.” June invited. So she did.

“Are you hungry?” Clara asked sweetly.

Eliza slightly shook her head. Clara put a cake on her plate right after, paying no attention to what she had said.

“I-“

“Don’t starve out of guilt” Potts interrupted, “Instead, eat enough for both of you.” She placed another on Eliza’s plate.

Eliza dug her nails into the cloth of her dress, shaking. She knew Potts was right. She shakenly picked up one of the cakes and took the smallest bite, then sat there, holding it to her mouth, tasting it for Amelia.

“Eliza, listen” said Potts, putting down the jam knife, “because I’m only going to say this once.”

Eliza’s attention was on Potts.

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it right, and do it now. Because the pain won’t go away, but the will for revenge will.”

Those words sunk deep into Eliza’s mind. She was right. And Eliza felt strength in her bones. Strength to do what she had decided the morning before in the vanity mirror. Eliza shot up from her seat with fire and pulled the tie from her hair, and frantically shook out her braid. She stood tall, and proud, the ends of her now messy curls caressing her palms.

Potts smiled proudly smug, “And so it begins.”

The front door creaked open, flurries from outside fell inside, melting on the warm wooden floors. In new boots and clothes, with a bag he had never seen, Gregor looked up and saw Eliza walking in. She shook the snow from her hood and hung it on the hook, kicked the water off her boots and headed for the stairs.

“Elizabeth!” Gregor exclaimed, powering towards her, “Are you insane?”

“Didn’t you ask this already? Would you like me to be?”

He was shocked, and infuriated. She had NEVER acted like this in her life. “Elizabeth you-”

“I love you.”

He was stunned. Nothing she could have said could have shocked him more. He couldn’t even speak.

“But” she continued, taking off her gloves, “I love Amelia too.”

She turned around and went up the stairs, not looking back. Not thinking twice. What was Gregor supposed to do? What was there TO do? He sure as hell didn’t know.

In her room, Eliza pulled out the supplies she had gotten from Mrs. Potts and got to work. With pencil and paper, and a map, she marked, plotted, and schemed. Minute after minute, hour after hour, she worked restlessly. The next morning came and the sun didn’t shine in her eyes, because she was awake still in the mess she had accumulated throughout that sleepless night. And just as the morning came, so did noon, the afternoon, then evening and night all over again. But as the next sun rose, Eliza laid her head down to rest. For she had a feeling in her guts that she wouldn’t get much rest in the coming days. And as she drifted to sleep, she heard a indistinct voice, coming into focus.

“Eliza…Eliza!” the voice of a little girl called from the void.

“A-Amelia?”

“Eliza!” seven-year-old Amelia suddenly stood before her, so young and beautiful.

Eliza’s face went red with bitter tears welling, she smiled “Hi.”

“what are you doing?”

“I’m…I’m studying.”

“Really!? I always wanted to study!”

Eliza swallowed her throat, “I know.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Of course, Amelia. I would love to.”

“Yay!” Amelia celebrated.

Eliza reached out her hand towards Amelia’s cheek, afraid to touch her, but longing to. She reached, and her finger almost touched her face, she could feel the warmth…. until her Father loudly calling her name sucked her back into reality. Disoriented, she shook off her sleep, and felt her face, feeling the tears and wiping them away. She stumbled up to her feet and stood, looking over into the mirror to see she was still dressed from the day before. She sat down in her chair, brushed her hands over her face, and the line the blanket left on her cheek. She threw her hair up in a sloppy bun, with very little care. She composed herself, honestly expecting the worst. A scolding, a beating, a punishment in the cold, she didn’t really care. It would only last so long, and then she can pretend it never happened. She went out the door and down the stairs. Her Father was waiting for her there, with power in his stance. He definitely had something to say.

“Father” she did a little bow of the head.

“Elizabeth, you have severely disappointed in you…attitude, as of late, but I’ll excuse it, because of the circumstances.”

Eliza’s fist tightened.

“But life won’t just wait around for you to feel better, so don’t expect it to”

“What are you trying to say?”

Displeased with her attitude, he continued, “I’ve arranged a marriage suitor. You’ll meet him within the month.”

Eliza’s eyes grew wide with shock. Her voice was stuck. to say that that threw a wrench in her plans would be a great understatement.