It happened during his final year at the university. It was as he read about the Great Fire that had ended the outbreak of the Black Plague did he remember the past.

"The rats and fleas spreading disease were killed in the fire." Benjamin read aloud and flinched at the sound of his voice. Swimming through lifetimes of memories he could not grasp left him drowning in uncertainty. But there was one thing which stood out, he had lost the once distinguished and refined accent he had in past lives.

What had replaced it was... a lack of an accent. But how had he just noticed this? And why?

He glanced down at the pages below him, noticing the dates of the Fire. It had occurred shortly after the death of Emilia.

Emilia.

The name brought back everything. Two lifetimes could not fit in a single mind and it overwhelmed to the point of nausea. He steadied himself against the table, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down. It did not help that all five of his senses became instantly heightened. Refined over decades upon decades, honed by knowledge, sharpened with experience Benjamin felt an influx of power that nearly brought him to his knees.

His skin was growing clammy and he was sure he was seeing colors that did not exist. A dull ringing in his ears only made the pounding in his head worse.

But it was the sudden awareness that drew the bitter taste of acid to his tongue.

"The Colonies," he groaned, recalling the name of the New World. "How on Earth did I end up there?"

Staggering out of the library, Benjamin found himself standing in the middle of a field. Unlike the city he was originally from, no buildings lined the streets here nor was there this much open land. This city was still very much developing.

He brought his hands up to his face, caressing the skin with his fingers. It was smooth and free of wrinkles. He was still young. The man sighed in frustration at the realization because this meant Emilia was either a child or not even born yet. But his frustration quickly turned into something else. The fact he had remembered everything sooner gave him time, something he had lacked the previous times.

A grin started to etch its way onto his face. He did not have to wait for her to stumble into his life any longer.

This time, he would go to her.

From that day onward, Benjamin Peters devoted every waking hour of his life to his search. The city might not yet be the metropolis it would eventually become, but it was still a decent-sized region. Even armed with the knowledge of Emilia's surname proved worthless. There were far too many Eldridges living in the area.

So as buildings started to appear all over the city, so did the signs of age. His skin was not as smooth, not as fresh. Black circles developed under what had once been rested and bright eyes. His face had not been clean-cut in years and now sported a dark beard. Wrinkles had also started to engrave their way into his skin.

Benjamin was no longer the youthful man he had been when he first began this search. But it was then, as a middle-aged man, did his hunt finally come to an end. He had been in the warehouse district–a new district that had sprung forth due to the growing industrialization–when he stumbled upon the girl he had been searching for.

She was walking in the opposite direction of him alongside the rows of factories and warehouses. A worn, black coat that looked two sizes too big covered most of her body. From below the knee, he could see her tattered grey dress and equally tattered boots. A layer of grime and soot coated her hair, which was tied back to keep the curls from her face. But it was not her appearance that made him stop in tracks as she passed him. No, it was the sudden fit of coughing that came over her.

"Are you well?" He approached without caution.

She nodded through her bout, continuing to cough behind her enclosed fist. "I–I'm fine. Just got a dry throat, that's all."

Benjamin blinked, still unused to their accents. He had expected one like his, which was not an accent. Instead, hers was grating and emphasized certain words.

Emilia kept walking on, leaving him behind. Her coughing had ceased now.

The doctor remained where she had left him, watching as she entered a brick building. Quickly following after her, he looked up at the massive building with a smokestack looming behind it. It was emitting a black cloud of ash, darkening the already smog-filled air.

His eyes landed on the sign at the front, narrowing as he read the name of the mill.

Sinclair.

It was a name that had appeared thrice already; a derivative of the name 'St. Clair.'

He knew he was in the right place at the right time then. Sure enough, as he peered through the window, he caught a glimpse of those familiar brown curls. They were trimmed now, shorter but still the same. Benjamin knew this to be Nathaniel, even with the new haircut.

From his attire and the way he was circling the female workers–like a hungry shark–Benjamin figured him to be the supervisor.

He couldn't see Emilia from his current position though, no matter how much he craned his neck. But what he could see sickened him. The conditions of the factory were filthy. The floors were littered in dust and brownish stains. Benjamin could only assume–and hope–these were blood stains and not something even more disgusting.

The inside was dim, only getting its source of light from the windows. And since it was the dead of winter, there was not much sunlight.

Deciding to wait until her shift was over, Benjamin went into an alley behind the factory and sat down. He thought he might doze off, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him awake.

The hours seemed to go by painfully slow, and the biting cold only reminded him of how agonizing the wait was. A part of him longed for his plague doctor costume, knowing its leather material would surely keep him warm. But in this day and age, wearing one would either get him funny looks or sent off to an asylum. So, he passed the time thinking about what he would say to Emilia. As much as he wanted to spill the truth of his situation, he knew it would be futile. She would not remember. And the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off like last time.

Too preoccupied in his thoughts, Benjamin failed to notice the sky grow darker and the air colder. It was not until he heard the sounds of voices chattering around him did he realize the evening had arrived.

Rising to his feet, he watched from around the corner as the workers piled out of the factory. He knew the majority of them were women, but what he didn't know was how young some of them were. Some looked no older than adolescents and others looked even younger.

As the workers started to dwindle, Benjamin found himself growing anxious. Emilia had not appeared yet.

Had she gone into another building? No, he was certain she had entered this particular one.

Had he somehow missed her? It was possible. Night had already arrived and gas lanterns were few and far between in this area.

"I already told you, Mr. Callahan–"

"Please, call me Nathaniel."

Benjamin stepped out of the alley upon hearing the voices. Enough to see, but not enough to be seen. Two figures were approaching, one a woman and the other a man.

"Alright, Nathaniel. I am not interested." The woman started to quicken her pace.

"Emilia, wait." Nathaniel followed after her, grabbing her arm. "Perhaps I've been approaching this the wrong way–"

Emilia turned and tried to tug her arm away. "I'm sure there are plenty of other women that would want you. Why not ask them?"

"Because it's you I want."

The woman scoffed. "I'm covered in ash and dust from head to toe."

"That does not bother me," Nathaniel persisted. "Nothing a little scrubbing can't fix."

"If you want a priss, then go find one." Emilia yanked her arm back, starting to walk away again.

"Emilia!" Nathaniel jogged towards her.

"She said she wasn't interested." Benjamin came out of the shadows, blocking the man's path.

"What–Who are you?" Nathaniel demanded.

"You will know soon enough." the older man cocked his head.

Nathaniel frowned. Glancing towards Emilia, he gestured for her to leave.

"Well, I don't want any trouble. And you certainly look like a man who would start some." With a quiet huff, Nathaniel shoved clean hands into dusty pockets and gave Emilia a warning glance before disappearing into the night.

"Thanks, sir." Emilia smiled. "I was wondering how I'd be rid of him."

Benjamin tried to hide his cringing with a smile of his own. He was sure he would never get used to that accent.

"You are welcome."

Emilia huddled inside her oversized coat, rubbing her hands together. "I best be going. It's late. Thanks again."

She started to turn when Benjamin suddenly reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Wait. I must tell you something. That man, Nathaniel, he's dangerous."

"What?" Emilia turned back. "You know him?"

"Yes... of sorts. I know him enough to say that you must stay away. No matter how charming his words are or pleasant his face, you must not get involved with him." He stared into her eyes deeply, looking for some sort of understanding.

All he saw was his own desperate expression.

"He's my boss," she snorted, pulling away from him. "How can I avoid him?"

Benjamin let out a sigh. "He will surely be the death of you if you don't."

"You're crazy." Emilia shook her head, backing away from the man.

"Wait." Benjamin tried a new tactic, seeing his warning was having no effect. "I heard you coughing this morning. I'm–I'm a doctor. I can treat you."

Just like he had hoped, she stopped.

"I told you, it's nothing–" Another coughing fit seized her, forcing her to double over from the sheer strength of it. Benjamin did not hesitate to approach her. Nor did he resist rubbing and patting her back.

"My office is located on 57th Street." He eased her into a standing position and walked away, not bothering to glance back over his shoulder. He did not need to confirm she was watching him. He already knew.

Just as he knew she would show up the following morning.