°~August 12th, 1790~°

(Y/N POV)

Not only had Alexander became more withdrawn into himself, but he had also starting writing more, something that I thought was the impossible for him. For the past three weeks or so, he worked day and night in his office until communication from him almost came to a halt. A week ago, he began insisting to be served meals in his workspace, something that Eliza was not content with.

Nor was I, in fact. She'd sent me to the office to check on him since he would not come down for dinner. After no reply from two knocks, I let myself in. He had ebony bags under his eyes - I seemed to think at one point they might droop to the floor. Alas, he was swift enough to slap an arm over his papers and ordered me to leave. The sheer tone of his voice made me not want to argue with him, yet there was still a hint of fragility to it under all of the frustration.

Eliza put it down to his work as Secretary of the Treasury, but that one moment made me feel that there was something... awfully wrong. He wouldn't hide his papers like that; there was no reason to. I'd thought of sneaking in there myself, once I got the chance to, and to read whatever it was that he was setting his mind to. But I never got my chance.

Eliza was taking us all out to go shopping. I was in no need of extra clothes (neither was Emily), but Philip and Angelica seemed to be growing taller by the second. It was terrifying, to say the least. Frances grew at a steady rate, meanwhile Junior shared the shortness of his father. We would joke of the coincidence it was that Junior turned out to be just like Alexander in his appearance and personality.

'I heard that there's this thing called ice cream,' Philip commented. 'Do you know where we could find some, Ma?'

'Ice cream,' Eliza contemplated. 'No, I can't be sure. What is it?'

'It's a dessert that I heard Mr. Washington talk about. He said he'd let me try it sometime.'

'Is it cream mixed together with ice?' asked Frances.

'I... think so.'

Eliza chuckled. 'We'll pick up some chocolate for you all, alright?'

As I looked around, I found it peculiar how a boy was prancing around, eager to give out leaflets. People were talking amongst themselves and others were encouraged to take leaflets without having to be harassed by the boy. As intrigued as I was, I chose to ignore it. But Emily seemed to notice, too.

'What's going on?' she pondered.

'Maybe there's a ball. Wouldn't be surprised.'

'Yeah but why are there poor people taking them?'

She was right. Behind the boy was a stack of those leaflets and those who could not afford took them whilst he was not looking. Whilst the richer folk were in utter shock and felt the need to spread whatever the news was, the scrawny ones laughed hysterically in their torn clothing. The younger ones, in particular, made strange faces as they chased their friends around.

'Then maybe Alexander has been hard at work making another accusation about John Adams.' I tried to lighten the mood but Emily was not convinced.

We stopped outside of a sweet shop, giving us a full view of the crowd.

'Y/N, Emily, you wait out here with James. Would you like anything?' Eliza asked.

'No thanks,' we replied in sync. Though I could have used something to bite on, Emily's concern was now reflecting back on me.

Eliza gave James' hand over to me and left. He tried running after her but I pulled him back. 'No, James.'

'Mama?' he questioned.

'She's just going to fetch you some chocolate, she'll only be a minute.'

Those holding the leaflets were nearing in, particularly two older men who stood rather close. I took it as an opportunity to listen in.

'He's never going to be President now!'

'They wouldn't allow it anyway, John. And besides, if he could, do you really believe that he would run against Washington?' 

John shrugged. 'I would hope not. I just cannot believe that he would do that to his own family.'

'Good thing that he did. They'll have them killed in no time at all.'

'Buy me a ticket! That'll be one less thing for us all to worry about.'

And just like that, the two left. I turned to Emily, who hadn't been paying any attention to it. 'It's about someone close to Washington, I think.'

'That could be anyone!'

'Yeah, well, they didn't say who.'

'Maybe we could ask Eliza to buy one?'

Then it was settled. I did not want her to put it to waste, but if it reassured us that everything was okay, then that was all we could want.

Just before Eliza exited the shop, people began to take notice in our presence. Some gawped, some scowled, some merely gazed. I held James up into my arms, almost fearful that they were out to harm him. Of course, the leaflets couldn't be talking about a two-year-old, but their stares instinctively caused me to be protective of the boy.

As soon as Eliza appeared, I spoke out. 'Could we - perhaps - buy one of those leaflets?'

'Whatever for?'

'...I'm in the mood for a bit of light reading, that's all.'

She sighed. 'Alright, well, don't tell Alexander.'

With James secured again to Eliza's side, we strolled over to the boy. As we neared, everyone turned their heads at us. I could not tell if it was an illusion of my mind, but everything seemed to go silent in an instant.

The boy's smile faded, and as Eliza gave him the money, he handed her a leaflet and tipped his cap. 'Mrs. Hamilton.'

It was an atmosphere alike no other. One that, if it were in modern times, people would be taking out there phones and recording the scene as it played out, only later to share it all over social media. Thankfully, that was not something they could do, leading on to the one thing that I was not thankful for: the power of words as they spread like a plague.

Eliza tilted her head and read it, just as I did.

‘An Address of Speculation Concerning Current Affairs'

Or as otherwise known.

'The L/N Notice'

A documentary of witchcraft and the truthful identities of such Capt. Sophie Hamilton and Emily Hamilton.

Written by Alexander Hamilton.