Matthew Cuthbert had struggled with his heart for a long time.

Marilla thought this was the end as she watched her brother crumple to the floor. She felt her heart drop and she abandoned what she was doing and sprinted faster than she'd ever run across the yard down to the gate. She fell to her knees beside Matthew and rolled him over onto his back, her hands shaking.

"Matthew!" She cried.

Matthew couldn't see, the world was blotchy black and his ears only heard the deafening slow thump of his uneven heartbeat. His head was spinning. Matthew wheezed, his hand on his heart as he struggled to breathe. Marilla's own heart thundered in her ears like a hundred galloping horses. She grabbed onto Matthew's other hand and pulled his head onto her lap, fixing his eyes with hers.

"Matthew Cuthbert you are not dying on me now. You're not." Marilla said firmly, yet her voice trembled. "I'll tell you why, because our Anne needs you. She needs you to stay alive. Think of her, we have to take care of her. I can't do this without you."

Matthew closed his eyes, a deep fear of losing Anne blazing in his struggling heart. Anne was being taken away and Marilla didn't even know it... What if Anne went away and never came back? What if she spent her whole life in a reformatory? If he died Marilla would be all alone. They had to find a way to get Anne out of the reformatory but how? The family had to stay strong, they had to help her.

"Deep breaths, Matthew." Marilla leant down and stroked his head gently, as fearful tears dwelled in her eyes. "Come on, Matty, hold on."

Matthew hadn't heard that nickname since he was a boy, since before their mother passed away. Marilla used to call him Matty all the time and she used to stroke his head like that as she got him off to sleep at night when their mother was ill. It instantly calmed him and sent him back to those golden days before the grief crippled them both emotionally. Matthew wanted Anne to have a life like that, happy and hopeful. This was no life for her, a life of fear torn unwillingly from a happy home.

She deserved better. He needed to do better for Anne.

Matthew gathered all of his strength to take long, deep breaths and release them slowly. After several long, painful moments he felt his heartbeat slow into a soft, uneven beat. An agonising while later it hit a regular pattern and he could breathe clearly again. Matthew gasped deep breaths and opened his eyes, seeing his sister and the bright blue sky. His senses were awake and he focused them, the birds singing in the trees loudly, the breeze ruffling their hair, the smell of fresh air after a storm.

"You're alright, Matthew." Marilla soothed.

Jerry Baynard arrived at that time and opened the gate, whistling cheerful French tunes as he always did. When he saw Matthew on the floor with Marilla he was afraid. Jerry ran to them, desperate to discover what had happened. He cared for the Cuthberts almost as much as his own family, especially Matthew who had been a mentor to him. Even Marilla had been kind to him and Anne was like a sister, he would be devastated if anything happened to them.

"Miss Cuthbert - is he well?" Jerry cried as he reached them.

"Not nearly as well as I'd like him to be, but he's alive - thank god," Marilla said briskly. "Go and fetch the doctor, tell him Matthew's had an incident of the heart. Take a horse, be swift now. Quick, Jerry."

Jerry nodded and ran to the stables, mounting their brown mare Belle with haste before galloping across the yard and away down the road.

"Come now, let's get you indoors." Marilla said to her brother after a few minutes.

Matthew was heavy to move but he was well enough to help support himself, with help from his sister. His legs felt weak and he was shaking like tree branches in the depths of winter. The siblings made their way slowly across the yard up to the Gables, with small steps and lots of deep breaths on Matthew's part.  Matthew's head was spinning and he felt weak, his heart falling into another uneven pattern as he moved. He held onto Marilla's arm tightly and thought of Anne.

His brain felt muddled, his words came out slurred and stammering. He could only managed her name over and over, Anne... It wasn't until he had been forced to lie down on the settee in the living room by Marilla and had gathered himself enough to formulate more complex sentences was he able to explain what had happened.

"Anne-- they've taken her. The detective..." Matthew said slowly. "Anne's gone to a reformatory."

Marilla was afraid and shocked. They'd taken Anne? She was going to a reformatory? This was a nightmare. She had so many questions but she didn't want to push Matthew in his temperament. She swallowed hard and took a moment to calm herself before she spoke. None of it mattered anyway, nothing could stop her when it came to Anne. Nothing could stand in her way.

"Don't worry, Matthew." Marilla put on her brave face and clasped her little brother's hand tightly. "We'll get Anne back, I promise."

...

The Detective felt unsettled.

People under arrest were nearly always angry or emotional but Anne Shirley's reaction - on top of everything else that was making him doubt her guilt - was placing an unusual uncertainty in his heart. All the evidence pointed to Anne, surely she was guilty? There was no other explanation as to why she was tied to all of the locations and evidence... It didn't make sense.

Detective Ellwyn was making his way to the Barry estate to inform Mr Barry of Anne's arrest. He had given his word the culprit would be caught and she had, he thought. All that was left to do was inform everybody of the situation and do one last search for the missing items. The complaints about missing valuables had not stopped in days, Detective Ellwyn was finding it aggravating. Where had Anne hidden the valuables? Why didn't she admit to it and tell him? He had tried questioning her and now she was away at gaol and it was down to him to find them.

Diana was very worried about her friends, Anne and Gilbert. Concerning rumours had been circulating Avonlea and Diana had heard many troubling things - mostly from the gossip of their maids and staff - which fuelled her desperate desire for answers. She hadn't heard from Gilbert about how Anne was last night and she wondered whether James had reached Avonlea yet or seen the detective.

Diana had been busy helping her mother arrange her party which was due for the coming Sunday. Her mind was not on the tasks and she kept making mistakes, resolving in her mother losing patience and telling her to take a walk to clear her head. That was how Diana happened to see Detective Ellwyn enter her father's office. She'd not seen the man before and wondered who he was, so she listened at the door. She knew it wasn't polite or respectable behaviour of a good lady but she had a feeling it was to do with Anne.

Mr Barry was busy penning a call for a town hall meeting about the crisis of theft in Avonlea. He had quite lost his faith in Detective Ellwyn and the police. Even Thomson had failed him and he was desperate to succeed. Mr Barry was angry his wagon full of goods was still missing and his bank had rung twice about the state of his accounts without the missing valuables and gold he had been planning to deposit.

The arrival of Detective Ellwyn was unwelcome and surprising to Mr Barry, who fixed the man with a disparaging expression. He sighed, long and deep before slowly putting down his pen.

"What can I do for you, Detective?" Mr Barry said flatly.

Diana's ears perked up. So this man was the detective she'd heard so much about? This would surely be useful information, perhaps it would answer her burning questions about Anne. Maybe the detective had met James Riley and would tell her father about him and she would know if he'd discovered the new information James had.

The detective cleared his throat.

"I came to inform you that I have apprehended the culprit of the Barry wagon robbery. She is also guilty of the other robberies around Avonlea," The detective said. "Her name is Anne Shirley and she has been sentenced to serve five days in gaol before following with three years in a reformatory facility."

Diana thought for a moment she had heard wrong. She was confused. Surely this man had made some mistake. Did he really say Anne had been sentenced? Without a trial? Diana had read a book once about a trilling adventure and at the end the villain was sentenced after a trial. That was how things were done, right? The detective had made a mistake clearly. Her heartbeat hard nervously. What if he hadn't?

"You've sentenced Anne Shirley?" Mr Barry blanched. "She's really guilty then?"

He couldn't believe it. His daughter Diana's best-friend. He never really thought it could be true.

"There is much damning evidence against her, and proof she was involved in many of the robberies, sir." The detective hastened to add.

"Which robberies?"

"The houses along Orchard Way were all broken into during market day after school finished and we have a witness saying they saw Miss Shirley leaving the Frailles house. Later that day evidence was found that she had indeed been there and taken things."

The shocked expression on Mr Barry's face was throwing the detective. He had thought Mr Barry would be relieved, pleased even. So why was he so surprised and even... concerned? Mr Barry lifted his gaze from the detective and looked down at the meeting call he had been penning. He took a deep breath to clear his head. The fallout from sending Anne Shirley to gaol would be chaos. He couldn't believe she was truly guilty, it didn't feel right.

He thought back to all the times Diana had sworn Anne was innocent and how Thomson had lied and all of the things he'd heard. He'd never particularly liked Anne but he could say certainly she was a good person, who had saved Minnie May's life and done his Diana a world of good. But how could she be innocent if there was evidence, proof, witnesses?

Mr Barry gave a great sigh.

"Well, what about all of the lost items? Where are my goods and the valuables stolen from the people of Avonlea? I assure you, if they are not recovered there will be mayhem."

"Well," The detective faltered. "I will order a final search of Avonlea and they will be found."

Detective Ellwyn had been so focused on finding the one responsible he'd almost neglected the result of the crimes themselves - the missing items. He reached into his pocket and drew out a short-term peacekeeper.

"That's the other thing... We found this, hidden in Miss Shirley's bedroom. I believe it belongs to your daughter - Diana..."

Diana's heart dropped.

The detective placed down the delicate diamond necklace, the fine opal pin shaped like a heart and the red embroidered ribbon. They lay there, catching the sunlight which streamed through the curtains. They glittered and Mr Barry recognised them as belonging to his Diana. He felt a weight in his heart. Anne had really stolen from Diana. This would crush Di, it would break their friendship apart.

"Well, that settles it then. But I warn you, you must find the missing items or there'll be trouble and it'll all come down on you." Mr Barry said gravely. "This fiasco must end."

Diana looked through the keyhole in the door to see the detective standing beside her father's desk. The room was dimly lit but beams of sunlight shone upon the table where her missing jewellery sat. Diana felt confused and upset. How could he possibly have them? Anne was the only person who knew about her special box and so she was the only person who could have taken them. But why? Why would she do that? Anne was no theif, Diana was certain. She never doubted that but she was worried about why Anne had taken them. She was surely blackmailed by Joseph.

Diana was angry too, she couldn't believe Anne had been sent away and sentenced to prison! This was unacceptable and completely unjust. Joseph was out there free and Anne was in some awful place with awful people suffering for his crimes. Diana had to do something, to get some people to understand and to bring Anne home.

Mr Barry sent the detective away and he finished penning the call for a meeting, this time it had slightly different topics to cover. The culprit had been found, although he was certain all hell would break loose once the truth was out. Anne had not been a member of the community for long but nearly everyone who knew her was left changed for the better. There were still a few stubborn families who looked down their nose upon the adopted girl but she'd found her way into many hearts and under many folk's skin with her cheerful disposition, lively imagination and untamable spirit. Anne may be nearing womanhood but at the end of the day she was still a child, arresting a child was not going to be a popular move.

There would be a turmoil in Avonlea once this got out. Rumours were one thing but sentences and actions were quite another. The Cuthberts would never forgive the Barry family for hiring the detective who was responsible for taking their Anne away.

...

Gilbert was too intelligent to run after the carriages. He knew they were speeding ahead and he couldn't catch them up. By the time he'd reach his horse they would have been miles ahead of him and he'd never catch up. Gilbert had no idea where they were taking her, he didn't know any of the nearby prisons. He couldn't follow them. Gilbert fought the urge to sprint along the road after Anne, knowing it was hopeless but feeling as though she were slipping from his fingers.

James couldn't get Gilbert to speak for a long time.

Gilbert was silent, numb with shock. James tried everything to reason with him, give him hope and see that there could be a chance to save Anne but Gilbert was heartbroken. He sat outside for a while, unable to move as he gazed after the carriages which had long since sped away down the road faster than he could ever ride. His bare feet were cold and scratched but he didn't care. Every deep, heaving breath he took ached his ribs and his throat and he felt like crying.

He couldn't believe Anne was gone.

How could he fight all of them for Anne? How could he when the whole world was against them? They'd taken Anne away and she was going to be locked up. He was just a boy, what could he do? All of the police force, the detective, half the town - even Mr Barry thought Anne was guilty. They'd turned their backs on her, punished her for Joseph's crimes and now what little hope Gilbert had held was ebbing away in the cold breeze.

James sat down beside Gilbert and watched his friend with worried eyes. He knew Gilbert was very emotional, he had to tread carefully.

"Gil," His soft Dublin brogue was warm and comforting in the crisp, late-spring afternoon. "We will get her back. I promise you."

Gilbert blinked, barely moving aside from his breaths which clouded pale in the air. He thought of the fear in Anne's face as she hammered on the carriage window. His heart clenched and he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip, trying not to crumble. He was afraid. He felt weak and helpless. It was rising up inside him, regret and fear, guilt and anger and a strong indignation all whirling fiercely like a tornado.

"I broke my promise to her," Gilbert's voice was hoarse and uneven. "I promised her that I'd protect her, I said I'd stop them. I couldn't do a thing and they took her away..."

"It's not your fault, you're just a kid and they were grown men. You were outnumbered. Don't beat yourself up--"

"I'm not a kid anymore, James." Gilbert cried, standing up. He turned on his friend with flashing eyes. "I should have stopped them, I promised her!"

"Gilbert, there's still a chance - I haven't even spoken to the detective yet!" James tried to persuade Gilbert. "You can't let them get you like this, you have to be strong--"

"I should have been strong for her -- I-- I let her down!" Gilbert yelled.

It wasn't fair. Anne didn't deserve this. They'd taken an innocent girl for the crimes of that wretched boy Joseph. Gilbert felt a furious and burning injustice which made him feel hot and shaky. James stared at Gilbert, feeling frustrated that he didn't see there was hope. There had to be hope. After all this, James had to get Joseph or he'd go mad. Gilbert felt like a white-hot spotlight was burning upon him as he stood there fuming. Gilbert's guilt turned the concern in James' gaze into blame.

Gilbert stormed away and out into his barn and slammed the doors behind him. James heard crashes and shouts as Gil took out his frustration on the contents of the building. Boxes were overturned, contents spilling onto the floor and tools were thrown across the room. Diana's horse wasn't too happy with the noise and it's agitation calmed Gil after a while. The angry boy stopped and looked at the creature, his messy dark curls fallen into his dark eyes. He was reminded of Anne's gentle way with animals.

Gilbert went to the horse and handled it, patting it's muzzle and calming it until he rested his face against its neck and felt the pain again. His heart ached for Anne. He missed her already, he wanted her to be there with him. Last night was the best moment of his life, she had kissed him and finally told him she liked him. How could they take her away from him?

James had gone into the the kitchen to pour Gilbert a glass of whiskey which he carried in a flask in his pack. Ever since he'd lost Jasmine he'd relied on spirits and alcohol to numb the pain of grief. He knew it would take the edge off of Gilbert's pain and fear so they could talk. Just as he stood up to fetch his friend, the door swung open and he saw Gilbert enter the house.

"Gilbert, my friend. Sit down, have a drink and we'll make a plan--"

Before he could finish, Gilbert wordlessly disappeared into his father's room. Gilbert felt exhausted from screaming and he wanted to be alone. He appreciated James' efforts but he couldn't face anyone at that time. He was so upset, he needed to calm down. Gilbert closed the door behind him and leant back against it, his eyes flickering shut. Gilbert heard the front door slam shut and felt his heart drop slightly. James had left. It wasn't surprising, James likely felt it was hopeless and had gone back to the docks.

After some shaky deep breaths Gilbert opened his eyes and looked down at the bed where he had slept beside Anne the past night. Gilbert remembered the darkness in the room and the feel of Anne with him, safe for once. When he closed his eyes he could feel her body lying against his, soft. He could feel her hair tickling his face and hear her gentle breathing as she slept.

His mind shifted and he saw images of Anne being torn from the bed and dragged out of the room, pleading with the policemen that they had made a mistake. Gilbert opened his eyes and swallowed a lump in his throat. He lay down on the bed and pulled the sheets over himself, closing his eyes again and pretending Anne was still there. Her smell lingered on his pillow and it made him miss her even more. Gilbert felt tears in his eyes and blinked, wiping them dry with his shaking hands.

Anne was gone. James was gone. He had no family left and his friends were distant, even Diana was far away. He felt so alone. Gilbert began to cry all at once and for the first time in so long instead of holding them in he let the tears come, until he was sobbing softly. He missed his family so much, they would have made everything better. Anne was his family now and she had been taken from him too.

What was he going to do without her?

...

James knew Gilbert was in a bad rut and he knew this because he understood the immeasurable pain of losing the love of your life. He knew Gilbert must have very deep feelings for Anne the way he was behaving. Gilbert had to get her back or he'd spiral like James had. James decided he would do all he could to help return the young redhead and so he left Blythe farm to find the detective to make everything right.

It was a while before he found his way to the Detective's office but when he reached the building it was open and the windows were lit. Somebody was moving inside. James tied up his horse and knocked hard on the door, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited. He rapted on the door again, harder. Midway through the third knock the door was swung open and James faced a tall, intimidating man with a sullen face.

"What is the meaning of battering on my door?" The man demanded.

"I have to speak with Detective Ellwyn." James said firmly.

"You're speaking to him now," The detective said impatiently. "What do you want?"

"I have information about Joseph Bines which needs to be heard. The case isn't closed, you sentenced the wrong person..."

Detective Ellwyn faltered, the doubt in his heart about the guilt of Anne Shirley was cemented by this stranger's words.

"Anne is innocent." James said.

...

Anne woke up to a strange sensation of being pulled.

She was abruptly knocked from her groggy daze by landing on a cold, hard floor. Anne cried out in shock and pain as she came in contact with the wood. She was very disorientated and blinked, looking around the dark room to get her bearings. It was small, with four metal-frame beds, one pushed into each corner. One of them was a bunk bed, with a boy sitting on the top bed hanging his legs down. There were mumbling voices. Anne saw three girls around her age standing in the room. One of the girls was closer and she was laughing down at her. Anne realised this girl had just pulled her off of the bed she'd been lying on onto the floor.

Anne sat up and held onto the cold metal bed beside her as support to stand up and look at her company. Three girls and one boy. A small, mousy girl with tired eyes and long, curling blonde hair drawn back in a large bow. A tall, rosy-faced girl with short, wavy deep-brown hair and dark almond eyes. The boy was small and lean with a mop of curly ginger hair, who looked slightly younger and had an easy, confident way of himself.

The third girl was Anne's disrupter - she had a strong build with frizzy brown hair tied in a messy plait and blotchy cheeks. She had pretty blue eyes but they were full of malice and Anne thought any beauty they would have held was tarnished by the mean spirit dwelling within. This girl was being scolded by the tall girl with wavy hair.

"--so stupid. You're gonna get us all in trouble." The tall girl was saying. "Why would you do that? You have no idea who she is, you just come in here and start trouble?"

"You always moaned about the lumpy mattress anyway," The red-haired boy added. "I don't see why you care so much now."

"This brat stole my bed!" The frizzy girl said angrily, gesturing to Anne.

"She was brought here, the orderlies probably just dumped her on an empty bed in a cell with a free bed. The girl didn't know it was yours." The almond-eyed girl sighed impatiently.

"Is this a very unpleasant dream?" Anne asked hoarsely, praying it wasn't real. Her voice was sore from screaming in the carriage.

They all looked at Anne.

"This is hardly a dream, Princess." Snorted the frizzy girl who had been mean to Anne. "You won't get sweet dreams sleeping in my bed, I'll be sure to wake you up every night until you go mad and be forced to give it back."

"I don't even want your bed." Anne mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Am I in prison?"

"It's gaol, but sure." Said the tall girl. "I'm January. You must be the new girl, somebody said a carriage arrived this afternoon with a new girl."

"I'm Kes." Said the confident boy.

"That's Peggy, she's shy. Good luck getting a word out of her. She just arrived too, so she was the baby but I guess that's you now." Said January, gesturing to the mousy girl.

"Shy is an understatement," The bully girl was still chuckling to herself. "Definitely a baby though."

Anne thought she was a rather cruel girl. After loving Matthew she had grown great sympathy for those who lacked her confidence and suffered with shyness. She hated bullies anyway but especially those who picked on those who couldn't defend themselves. That used to be Anne, until she gained the courage to stand up to bullies.

"This lovely girl is Margaret, she's got a winning personality as you've surely noticed." Joked January sarcastically. "I'm certain you'll become fast friends."

"Fat chance," Sneered Margaret. "Or scrawny chance, I should say."

Her blue eyes cast a dirty look upon Anne's slight frame. Kes stared down at Margaret, judgement clear in his face. She gave the boy a dirty look and crossed her arms in a confrontational manner.

"You really shouldn't," Kes said. "It don't endear you to no-one so it ain't doing you any good."

He had a strange accent, which Anne couldn't place. "Where are you from, Kes?" She asked.

"London, born and abandoned," Kes told her lightly. "But I escaped an orphanage when I was ten and snuck on board a ship and I got off at Charlottetown. Unfortunately the coppers caught me picking my livelihood from rich folk's pockets a few years later and brought me all the way to this dump some weeks ago."

"You were a pickpocket? Like Oliver and Dodger?" Anne was both thrilled and morally concerned.

"Suppose so, if they did my profession at some stage. Friends of yours, Miss?"

"No -- they're fictional characters from Oliver Twist!" Anne found a respute in talking about her favourite literary treasures, despite the heavy sadness which hung onto her.

"Well, I can't read you see." Kes shrugged.

"You can't read? Oh I would surely die if I was unable you escape into books whenever life was too hard to bear." Anne said forlornly.

"What a shame that would be." Margaret sniggered.

"Shut it, Marge." January snapped. "What's up your butt anyway?"

"New girl got my old bed, I'm not gonna forget that so easy." Margaret said bitterly.

"You can have it back," Anne said, standing up. "I didn't exactly choose to be here."

"None of us did, idiot." Margaret rolled her eyes.

Peggy was still watching Anne with wide, tired eyes. She stood partly behind January but Anne could tell the girl was curious about her. Peggy was pretty but looked like the colour had been drained from her cheeks. She held a small piece of cloth in her hands and Anne wondered what it was.

"Why are you all here?" Anne asked the others quietly.

"We gotta serve our time, dunce." Margaret looked blank.

"I mean what did you do that got you in here?" Anne asked curiously.

"Peggy was wrongly accused of stealing money from her Mistress - Peggy used to be a maid." January explained. "I really did steal money from my father and I also pushed him down some stairs. Although all I regret is being caught, so I don't think gaol is working so far."

Anne was shocked. "Why on earth did you do it?"

"He used to beat me up," January said, somewhat defensively. "He deserved it. Besides, Margaret used to attack her schoolmates for no reason so she's the one you wanna worry about, sweetie."

"They had it coming." Margaret sat down on her precious bed, smoothing down the covers with her hand.

"What about you, Princess?" January probed, pulling at her thick, wavy hair. "How did a nice girl like you wind up in this place?"

Anne felt her heart plummet at the memory of being taken from Gilbert's farm. "I was wrongly accused as well."

"That's the coppers, nine times out of ten they mess up." Kes nodded.

Anne was desperately sad. She felt a lump in her throat at the thought of never seeing her family again. Kes was watching Anne carefully. His hazel eyes glinted in the dark room. He was very observant and never missed a thing. He spoke softly, his voice was light and flowed like water.

"If you're gonna cry, get it all out now. Better to do it now than do it in front of the others. You can't show 'em weakness, the bad ones... Peggy's first day here she burst into tears in front of the whole hall at lunch and they've come after her ever since."

Peggy blushed bright red and sat on her bed, holding her piece of material up to her face. She seemed younger than the others too, maybe the same age as Kes. But her eyes were innocent and childlike. Anne thought she could be around twelve.

"Yeah, you may be a baby but you can't be as baby as Peg." Margaret laughed.

"I'm not going to cry." Anne said stubbornly.

"It's alright, it's inevitable." January shrugged.

Anne saw the flush deepen in Peggy's cheeks. She felt hot herself and flushed, embarrassed and cornered by these veritable strangers. She missed her family and her home. She wanted to be at Green Gables. She missed Gilbert too, there was a knot deep in her ribs, tugging like her heart knew she was far away from him. It felt strange to admit to herself that she missed him. Anne thought about last night and the kiss... Anne thought about Gilbert, the way he looked at her and she felt braver.

"How long have you all been here?" Anne asked.

"Me and Kes arrived two weeks ago. We're due to be moved to the reformatory soon." January said. "That's even worse than this place apparently, or so they like to warn us."

"What could be worse than gaol?" Anne frowned.

"Because the reformatory's job is to correct you and your problematic behaviours. It's very hard on those of us with these behaviours but it's a nightmare for you angels who never did anything wrong and ended up here quite by mistake." January said gravely. "Peggy's gonna crumble in that place."

Anne met Peggy's eyes and felt a rush of fear and sympathy. Anne didn't think she was going to last long there either, not by the sound of it. She'd have to get out, to escape... A life on the run would be better than a life behind bars being bullied into a mould she would never fit by a correctional facility. She didn't belong there, she would crumble too.

Not long after that the door opened and a large, ruddy-faced man in uniform came in holding a pile of clothes wrapped in package paper. The others shrunk away to stand beside their beds. It was clear to Anne they'd been told in the past this was expected of them when an enforcer entered the room.

"Miss Shirley. These are your clothes, you will wear them every day in gaol until you are sent to the reformatory upon which you will wear their uniform. It is your responsibility to keep them clean and tidy and any mistreatment of these items while in your possession will result in severe punishment." He said in a deep, intimidating voice. "Get changed and place your old clothes in the package to be taken away tomorrow."

"Oh, no I have clothes already... This is a very special dress, you see. This was borrowed, I simply can't part with it. It's not mine to give away, I know the person it belonged to would be completely heartbroken to know it wasn't being looked after properly. Not that I'm sure you wouldn't look after it properly but I don't know where it would be kept or if it would ever get returned back to the place it belongs, that is, where it came from--"

"Enough! Hold your tongue. There will be no argument." The man snapped firmly, making Anne visibly flinch.

The package was shoved into her hand before the man glared at the rest of them. They stood still, with flickering eyes like Mr Hammond's dogs who could sense a beating after he'd drunk a lot. Anne could recall their loud whimpers as well as the voice of Mr Hammond who the enforcer reminded her so much of.

"It's sleep time in ten minutes. I want everybody in bed in time for checks or you can spend the night in the box." He pointed his finger at each of them, his words ripe with anger which Anne wondered the origin of.

The large man stomped out and slammed the door behind him, bolting it locked. The others looked at Anne, who was shaken from being shouted at. She had to take off her clothes in front of these strangers? She had to part with Gilbert's mother's clothes? How could she? He would be so upset. Gilbert's mother never intended the clothes to be taken by a gaol officer. Anne felt deep regret in her heart and guilt too, for ending up in this scenario.

"That's Mr Carl. He's the head enforcer who was given the job of being an arse to everybody he meets," January said, with a glint in her eye. "Sort of like Margaret."

"Miss Shirley hey? What's your first name?" Kes asked.

Anne looked up. "Anne. Spelled with an E."

"Why does that matter?" Margaret laughed.

"It matters to me," Anne said firmly. "I spell it with an E, so you must think of it that way and when you say it do try to pronounce it to the E."

"Yeah right." Marge cackled loudly.

"Be quiet!" January hissed. "The guards are doing checks, if they hear you making all that noise we'll all end up in the box!"

They all listened and there was the ominous sound of squeaking boots along the corridor outside the cell. Anne pictured guards pacing the halls with lamps in the growing darkness of the evening, grim expressions painted on their withered, joy-starved faces.

"What's the box?" Anne wanted to know.

"It's solitary confinement. That's where all the nutters who can't behave go." January explained. "Margaret has been there twice."

"Shut it." Margaret snapped. She turned to Anne. "Now move. You're not having my bed."

"I already said you could have it back." Anne rolled her eyes and tipped her jaw up stubbornly.

She was determined not to let Margaret get to her. She held her package carefully and slowly crossed the room to her new bed next to Peggy's. Peggy watched her shyly, seeming to Anne like a scared mouse watching a cat. Anne wished Peggy knew she wasn't scary and was definitely just as afraid to be at gaol as Peggy was.

Anne was still shaken from Mr Carl's shouting. Anne walked to her new bed which was beside Peggy's. Anne didn't want to have to get changed in front of the others. She looked at January, who seemed to know the most about this place. She had been here the most time...

"Do you know if they get rid of the clothes they take from us? Do they store them until we get out? See, they aren't mine - they're borrowed. They're special."

"Angel, you'll never get them back." January said, honestly.

Anne scanned the other's faces. Margaret was busy with her bed, Kes was unreadable, his hazel eyes unjudging. He knew Anne was about to change so he turned his gaze away and lied down, preparing for sleep. Peggy's big, haunted eyes averted as she climbed slowly into her bed. January looked almost pitying as she looked down and got into bed. She slept beneath Kes' bunk bed. Everybody had averted their gaze yet Anne still trembled nervously as she slowly undressed and pulled on the thin, grey dress and bloomers she had been given. They were made from a rough cotton, and the dress had a hole torn in the sleeve.

Anne held her borrowed underdress in her fingers, her eyes sparkling with remorse as she slowly wrapped up the beautiful, precious garment in the package paper. January saw her cradling the package, not wanting to part with her only left connection to home, to Gilbert.

"That's gaol for you, girly. Everything that makes you feel free gets taken away." January said dryly.

Anne bit her lip, looking across at the almond-eyed girl as she sank further into the depths of despair. She felt ravenously hungry, as she had missed lunch and dinner. She heard her stomach grumble and thought of the filling meals Marilla always managed to conjour up.

"Here ya go, red." Kes was reaching down from his bunk towards her, his hand outstretched. Inside his hand was a hunk of rye bread.

Anne was surprised. "How did you get that?"

Kes smiled, a mischievous smile with dimpled cheeks and twinkling eyes. "It's what I do."

"He's Dodger remember?" January joked, wiggling her fingers. She'd read Oliver Twist, clearly.

"Thank you, Kes." Anne said sincerely.

Anne consumed the bread quickly, for fear of an enforcer coming in and seeing it. She was still hungry after, but at least she wasn't going to waste away in her sleep or something similarly dramatic. Despite the kindness of Kes and January's jokes, the prison was awful already and Anne had only been there for a day and she'd been unconscious through most of it. She dreaded what else this place had in store for her. It was cold and harsh and Anne felt lonely. She wondered what Gilbert was doing at that time...

Anne lay down on the lumpy mattress and held tightly onto the pillow, holding it close against her chest until it began to feel like a boy lying beside her. A certain boy who would make everything alright. Her imagination was powerful but it couldn't quite manage to create a virtual Gilbert to keep her company in the cold, unhomely cell. The wind howled through the bars and Anne felt a cold draft down her spine. She tried not to picture a deathly-cold, skeletal hand trailing it's fingers down her back.

Anne gazed up and saw the candle lights which were positioned high on the walls out of reach of the inmates. There was a small hole in the wall above the cell door which an enforcer reached through to put out the candle. What little light they'd had went out and the room's occupants settled into their cold, creaking beds.

Anne felt deeply troubled. The almost strangers moved on their iron-framed beds until they were comfortable as the moon shone in through the high, barred window. The shuffling ended after a while, then followed the snores. The silhouette of the barred window would drift into Anne's dreams that night, with Gilbert on the outside unable to reach her. Anne shivered beneath her thin blanket and felt tears in her eyes. She didn't want to cry but she missed everybody so much and she was afraid.

What was she going to do without Gilbert?

...

The next morning came like a warm, uplifting breeze. The last fresh air before the stifling heat of summer. There were colourful flowers poking up everywhere and the trees had greened until there was a blush of emerald along every hedgerow and in every forest canopy. The animals were busy and the townsfolk of Avonlea were bustling with news and rumours. The bright, cheerful morning felt like an insult to those who woke up with a pain in their heart.

The Cuthberts had a visit from the doctor the night before and Matthew had been placed on strict house rest, with no working for three weeks. Marilla had built up a storm of determination laying awake all night, mulling over the events of the day and the fate of her poor Anne. She intended to march into town and cause absoloute hell for all involved in the arrest of Anne. She awoke to a letter through the door about a meeting that morning in the town hall.

"I swear to you Matthew," Marilla said angrily as she made breakfast. "I will find those responsible and I will bring down upon them trouble such as they've never known."

"Well now, I don't doubt it." Matthew spoke softly. All of his rage and fear was simmering below the surface. "I'm in a mind to go with you, if I hadn't gotten in this way."

"There's not a single thing that would change my mind to let you out the house until you're well enough, Matthew Cuthbert so you get comfortable." Marilla said sternly.

"There's a great piece I'd like to say to that detective, and Mr Barry too for that matter." Matthew said quietly, his eyes glittering.

"Nobody is leaving that hall until a party is arranged to go to the prison they have snatched our Anne up into and she is brought back to Green Gables." Marilla consoled Matthew.

Matthew gazed out the window and his mind was on Anne, his precious red-haired girl who he couldn't live without. What would become of her in prison? She'd already fared a night and day there... how much longer would she last? She was strong for sure but nobody's spirit was unbreakable and Anne's had certainly taken a beating in her short lifetime.

...

Gilbert had slept heavy, sunk deep in a nightmare with wakeful spells of gasping in damp sheets. He was feverish from his tormented mind. His insomnia had abandoned him for a night of terrored dreams, a cruel torture for his exhaustion and fearful heart. He was roused from bed by James Riley, arriving a little before eight in the morning. Gilbert had not expected his friend back, he was surprised to see him and disgruntled to be woken.

"Blythe, get up. There's somewhere you've got to be and things you've got to hear." James said firmly, pulling away the sheets as Gilbert sat up, rubbing his red eyes.

"No, James. I can't go anywhere." Gil muttered.

"They're having a meeting, at nine. We have to leave if you want to arrive in time, it's might important." James groaned in frustration. "I don't doubt you've got a lot to say at it."

"James, I can't."

"Come on. Pull yourself together, at least she's not gone forever." James implored, emotion seeping into his words. "There's still a chance for you."

At least Anne wasn't gone in the same way that Jasmine was, James meant.

"Damn it, Gilbert. Don't you love her?" James threw clean clothes at Gilbert impatiently and went to the door.

Gilbert blinked. Don't you love her? The words rang loud in his ears.

"If you care about the girl, be there. For Anne - she still needs you."

Gilbert sat dazed as he watched his friend retreat from the farm. Didn't he love her? Did he love her? He'd never thought of it... He didn't know. He'd never felt this way about anybody, he didn't even know what he felt.

But he'd die for Anne, and he was broken when she left. Wasn't that love? Gilbert had nobody to tell him.

He looked up and saw his reflection in the window. He looked tired and sad as usual but he also looked older. He looked different. Not just from travelling, from everything since. Anne had changed him, for the better. He needed to see her, he needed her back. She was wild and passionate and headstrong, he never knew where he stood with her but he couldn't bear the thought of living every day without her.

Gilbert stood up and began to dress.

...

Diana had been begging her parents all morning to allow her to accompany them to the meeting. In the heat of an argument she'd confessed she'd listened and overheard what the detective had done about Anne and where he'd taken her. Diana was so furious that her parents were unsettled by her emotional state. They banned her from going in case of a scene and her mother postponed her upcoming party in an effort to discourage any brash actions Diana intended.

Mr and Mrs Barry left for the meeting early and as soon as they had, Diana fetched a horse from the stables. She wanted to tell Gilbert about what had happened, she knew he'd care as much as her. She needed somebody who felt the same indignation and worry about the matter as she did. She didn't feel she could face the Cuthberts after it was her father who hired the blasted detective that caught Anne.

Outside the stables, Diana saw Thomson. As soon as she saw him she felt angry. She was usually so mild-tempered but she knew he was responsible for a lot of the damning evidence against her innocent best-friend. Thomson was surprised to see her in the stables so early.

"Miss Diana, what are you doing here at this time?" He asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm on my way to derail Anne's sentence and bring her home."

Diana mounted a fine black riding horse flawlessly, before fixing Thomson with a shattering, superior glare.

"Once I've finished that I'll see to it you never work in Avonlea again. You are a selfish, cowardly man who seeks only to gain from my family and other's misfortune. You doubted my power before, as I am a child in your eyes. But I am a woman and I am a Barry. Your days here are numbered."

Thomson watched, shocked as Diana rode away kicking up clouds of dust in her wake, her black hair streaming like a silk scarf behind her.