𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑴𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓

AI Green

0:30 ─♡────── 3:45

"𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑"

Maeve strode briskly down the streets of Small Heath, her coat flaring slightly with her hurried steps. The shouts of coppers echoed through the alleys, and the crack of batons against flesh made her stomach twist. She glanced to the side, seeing a group of kids dart into a narrow lane, their faces pale with fear.

"Keep running," she muttered under her breath, quickening her pace.

Ahead, two officers dragged a man from his home, their hands rough on his collar as his protests turned into garbled cries. Maeve clenched her fists, forcing herself to look away. Not your fight today, Maeve. Keep walking.

A whistle blew, sharp and piercing, and Maeve knew it was time to move. She turned down another street, her boots clicking on the cobblestones as she scanned her surroundings for somewhere—anywhere—safe. Her mind landed on Mrs. Donovan, a woman she'd known since childhood. The old widow had always been kind to Maeve, though not without her sharp tongue.

She picked up her pace, reaching the small, tucked-away home and pounding on the door.

Mrs. Donovan opened it after a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Maeve Harding, what in the name of God—"

"Coppers," Maeve said simply, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

Mrs. Donovan sighed but shut the door quickly, bolting it behind her. "Bloody coppers. The devil's in 'em these days."

Maeve nodded, catching her breath as she leaned against the wall. "Thanks, Mrs. Donovan. They're on the rampage."

"They always are," the older woman muttered, peeking through the curtains. "Looking for trouble, making trouble."

Before Maeve could respond, another knock came at the door. Both women froze, exchanging a tense glance.

"Stay back," Mrs. Donovan whispered, moving toward the door cautiously. She opened it a crack, her shoulders stiffening. "What now?"

"It's me," came Freddie's urgent voice, followed by a deeper, gruffer one. "And Ada."

Maeve pushed off the wall, stepping to the door. "Let them in, Mrs. Donovan," she said firmly.

Mrs. Donovan hesitated but opened the door wide enough for Ada and Freddie to slip inside. Freddie's eyes darted around the small room, his jaw tight with tension. Ada clung to his arm, her face pale but determined.

Freddie's gaze settled on Maeve. "I'll leave," he said gruffly. "Just needed to make sure she's safe."

"You'd better," Maeve said flatly, crossing her arms. "You're drawing too much attention, now go on."

Freddie glanced at Ada, his expression softening briefly. "I'll find you later."

With that, he turned and slipped out the door, Mrs. Donovan bolting it behind him.

Mrs. Donovan led the two women to a small bedroom, gesturing vaguely. "You can rest here. But don't be bringing trouble to my door, Maeve."

"I'll behave," Maeve said with a faint smirk, nudging Ada into the room. Once Mrs. Donovan left, Maeve leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she watched Ada pace the floor. "Right. Out with it."

Ada froze mid-step, glancing at Maeve nervously. "Out with what?"

"Don't play coy with me, Ada," Maeve said, her tone sharp but not unkind. "You don't show up with Freddie Thorne on a day like this for nothing. Start talking."

Ada hesitated, wringing her hands. "He's my boyfriend," she said finally, her voice small.

Maeve raised an eyebrow. "Well, that much was obvious. What else?"

Ada sighed, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. "We've been seeing each other for a while now. He says he has to leave town because of the coppers."

"And?"

"And..." Ada hesitated again, her face flushing slightly. "We were together this morning."

Maeve tilted her head. "Define 'together.'"

Ada's cheeks reddened further. "You know what I mean."

Maeve rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a faint smirk. "Right. Go on."

Ada hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He wants me to leave with him. But I can't."

"Why not?" Maeve asked, her voice softer now.

"Because of my brothers," Ada said, glancing up at Maeve. "They'd kill him if they knew. And me, probably."

Maeve let out a short laugh. "Aye, Tommy and Arthur aren't exactly the forgiving type, are they?"

Ada shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Maeve. Don't tell them. Not Arthur, not Tommy. No one."

Maeve studied her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke. "I'm sorry—"

Ada's face crumpled, panic flickering in her eyes.

"—I don't know what you're talking about," Maeve finished smoothly, her lips curling into a smile.

Ada let out a relieved laugh, springing from the bed and throwing her arms around Maeve. "Thank you!" she cried, planting quick kisses on Maeve's cheeks. "Thank you, thank you!"

Maeve grimaced, half-laughing as she pushed Ada back gently. "All right, all right, you're welcome. Just calm yourself, eh?"

Ada sat back down, her shoulders relaxing for the first time. Maeve pointed a finger at her, her tone firm. "But listen to me, Ada. If Arthur or Tommy finds out, you tell them I didn't know a thing. Got it?"

Ada nodded quickly. "Got it."

"And you'll sleep at my place tonight," Maeve added. "So no one gets suspicious."

Ada reached out, taking Maeve's hand. "You're the best, Maeve."

Maeve smirked faintly. "I know. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow's another day of dodging trouble."

----------------------------------------

The small kitchen was warm, the aroma of frying onions and herbs filling the air as Maeve stood by the stove, stirring a pan with measured movements. She glanced over her shoulder at Ada, who was sitting at the table, absentmindedly twirling a fork between her fingers.

"Pass me that salt, will you?" Maeve asked, nodding toward the shaker near Ada.

Ada slid it over without looking up. "You always cook like this? Smells like a bloody restaurant in here."

Maeve smirked faintly, sprinkling salt into the pan. "When it's just me, I survive on bread and butter. But when I've got company, I try to act civilized."

Ada laughed softly, leaning her chin on her hand. "You? Civilized? Don't make me laugh."

Maeve's lips quirked as she plated the food. "Careful now, Ada. You'll hurt my feelings."

Ada snorted, taking the plate Maeve handed her. They sat across from each other at the small table, eating in companionable silence for a moment before Ada broke it.

"Do you ever think about boys?" Ada asked suddenly, her voice light but curious.

Maeve paused, her fork halfway to her mouth "You're asking me if I think about boys?"

Ada shrugged, her tone playful. "You've got Arthur, don't you?"

Maeve smirked, leaning back in her chair. "I've got Arthur like you've got manners. Which is to say, not really."

Ada rolled her eyes. "Don't start."

Maeve tilted her head slightly, her tone turning teasing. "And what about you, eh? With your sneaking 'round"

Ada's face flushed, but she avoided the question. Instead, she grinned and said, "I want a love like you and Arthur."

Maeve raised an eyebrow, her fork pausing mid-air. "Sexually or romantically?"

Ada gagged dramatically, covering her face. "Christ, Maeve! Don't make me think about that."

Maeve laughed. "Well, you brought it up."

Ada groaned, waving her hand as if to clear the air. "Forget I said anything."

Before Maeve could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Both women froze for a moment, their eyes meeting.

"Expecting someone?" Ada asked, her voice low.

"No," Maeve replied, standing and smoothing her hands on her apron. She walked to the door, glancing out the peephole.

"It's Arthur," she muttered, unlocking the door and opening it just a crack. Arthur stood there, his face shadowed by the dim lamplight outside.

"Love," he said, stepping forward like he always did.

Maeve moved quickly, slipping out and closing the door behind her. She stood with her back against it, blocking his way.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What's this, then? You lockin' me out now?"

"Just wanted to talk out here," Maeve said smoothly, her arms crossed. "It's nice out."

Arthur tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "Is there someone inside?"

"No," Maeve said, her voice steady. "Just me."

Before she could stop him, Arthur leaned closer, his head tilting toward the door. Inside, there was the faint clatter of a fork dropping to the floor. Arthur's expression shifted instantly, and he pushed past her, opening the door and stepping inside.

"Arthur—" Maeve said sharply, following him in.

He stopped short, seeing Ada kneeling on the floor, picking up her fork. She glanced up at him, her face coloring slightly. "Oh, it's you."

Arthur turned to Maeve, his suspicion deepening. "What's she doin' here?"

Maeve leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed. "We're having a girls' night. She's staying over."

Arthur snorted. "At this time of night?"

Ada straightened, brushing off her skirt. "You're not my keeper, Arthur."

Maeve stepped forward, her tone casual but firm. "She's staying here tonight, Arthur. It's no big deal."

Arthur studied them both for a moment before shaking his head. "You're both shite liars. This doesn't smell right." Maeve rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because two women eating dinner is the height of crime in Birmingham. Ada ignored him, sitting back at the table. Maeve turned to Arthur, putting a hand on his arm. "Come on," she said, steering him toward the door. "You've made your appearance. Now out."

Arthur grunted, his eyes sweeping the room. His attention landed on the portrait of the king hanging on the wall. Without warning, he strode over, pulled it down, and tucked it under his arm.

" What the hell are you doing?" Maeve asked, exasperated.

Arthur turned, his face set. "Tommy's orders. We're burning them all. Sending a message."

Maeve pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "You lot are going to end up in prison—or worse."

Arthur smirked faintly. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Maeve shook her head, grabbing his arm and steering him toward the door. "Fine. Do your revolution somewhere else."

"You hear about the coppers tonight?" He asked Maeve nodded. "Saw enough to know it's bad." Maeve stepped closer, her voice softening. "Don't kill anyone, Arthur."

He chuckled, leaning down toward her. "No promises."

Before she could reply, he kissed her, his lips firm and lingering. Maeve leaned into it, her hand brushing against his chest. When they pulled apart, Arthur smirked down at her.

"Don't wait up," he muttered, stepping away.

Inside, Ada watched through the window, her gaze distant as she thought of Freddie. When Maeve returned, Ada quickly turned away, and ate her food.