XVI. 1919

Much like her mother's ghost, Vivian sat in the chair in the corner of the room, expect now it was placed beside her bed, facing the window. She sat staring out the glass, looking onto the house across the street.

Never taking her eyes off it, she sat in silence. She waited for any movement. She didn't know why she pulled the chair to the window in the first place and she found no purpose in it but she felt she needed to sit there and watch.

Vivian needed to watch as Janet carried on as usual while she hurt her. She needed to watch if she missed the signs of a traitor now that she knew what she and Scott did— as if she could tell looking four small windows.

Soon Janet's bedroom window glowed. The Shelby watched as the room got brighter with every candle that was lit. She saw Janet's silhouette walk around her room. Her silhouette danced around the room.

Normal. As if nothing happened, the Greene girl danced around her room.

The brunette girl's eyes follow her around the room, coming in and out of view every so often, before she heard the door.

"What are you doing in the dark?" Polly asked, carefully. A moment ago the woman was frantic, after not finding her in Ada's room. She calmed down seeing her niece sat in the chair in her own room.

Polly didn't get a response from the girl, "would you like anything?" Polly watched as her niece's hair waved from side to side as Vivian shook her head a little. "Can you at least lie down, it will be better for you if you do?"

"I will, but not right now." Vivian responded. The woman across the street danced in her room, carelessly.

Although Vivian hated Janet so much right now, she admired her ability to just let go and dance. With everything, she was to just be free and at peace, even for just one song. The Shelby girl could never do that. She was never able to just let go, or at least not anymore.

The two were different in that way, but Janet bought that side out in Vivian, the free side.

Without the other, one was sat in a dark room watching as the other moved freely around in a dimly lit. So in a sense, Vivian Shelby was jealous of the person that ruined her relationship.

All of a sudden, she felt her aunt kiss her head, "Goodnight, love, get some sleep." Polly whispered. She knew wouldn't get much out of the girl and she didn't want to leave her either but she didn't want to push her.

"Night Pol." Vivian whispered, as Polly left. Her aunt hesitated at the door for a moment before she closed the door quietly.

Vivian wasn't sure how she felt about the situation or anyone that knew. Was she sad or anger or alone or all of the above? She had no clue what she was feeling.

She knew for sure that Scott and her were over. She didn't think of him right now though. She knew if she did she would think too much about it.

Focusing on Janet, she wondered how Janet would react to her knowing. The Shelby knew the trust was gone, there was no going back. Their friendship was over and that hurt just as much as Scott hurting her was.

She stopped herself from going into it and focused on what she was going to do. She wasn't just going to mope around and show how much the two had got to her, she wouldn't do that, no, that wasn't the Shelby way.

After thinking about it and going through all of her feelings — ones that never showed on her face —, she came to the decision act like she didn't know and wait for Ryan to tell her. He knew, so he'd tell her.

She'd wait until Ryan came to her with the truth, she'd wait until Janet and Scott came apologising — if they ever did. She'd let it all play out.

Her mind drifted off to the past few months. Weeks, she thought, weeks, the three had been hiding it, maybe Isaiah knew too. The only four people outside her family that she trusted, might have been lying to her for ages.

Months ago she would have trusted them, but now she was so unsure.

Right now, her eyes continued to follow her figure. She watched the scene from afar. She wished she was in the girl's position instead. The girl who was free.

—

That night the girl fell asleep in that chair but woke up in her bed. The sound of someone snoring filled the room. When Vivian woke up, the snoring didn't stop.

Opening her eyes, she saw one brother asleep in the chair she once sat on, and another asleep at the end of her bed.

She chuckled quietly, seeing John with his mouth hung open and his head hanging back. She prayed Esme was a deep sleeper and didn't have to hear him or see him like this. And then Finn who was sprawled out at the bottom of the bed. His feet almost in her face. Both boys in their clothes from the night before.

She lightly pushed Finn's rancid socks away from her, and pushed herself up. She looked at the two wondering how they ended up here.

What had happened was the older boys thought it would be a good idea to take Finn to the Garrison to take his mind off of his sisters. It ended in John and Finn having to lug a drunk Arthur home. They decided to just dump him on the couch. The two brothers silently agreed to both go check on their injured sister upstairs.

They had found her asleep in the chair. For such a light sleeper, she didn't wake up when John threw her on the bed.

They both didn't know how they ended up staying over but it was assumed they didn't want to leave her, maybe thinking the predator would break into her room, hurting her more or maybe they just couldn't find it in their selves to leave. Or the more likely answer, they were to tired to go to their own rooms or houses.

"Boys." She spoke normally, but the snoring went on, "boys!" She said louder and still no reply. "Boys!" She shouted, kicking Finn, almost making him fly off the bed.

They both woke up startled and one in pain. John shot up from the chair in panic. Finn was hanging off the bed, rubbing his wide eyes.

It took them a minute to register what was going on until Arthur and Tom came barging in the door soon followed by Polly. They all looked panicked.

"Didn't mean to wake everyone." The five Shelby's stared at the girl, concerned and still shook, "can you all leave now." She said.

Although she felt somewhat normal, the family saw an emotionless girl beaten and bruised. She had changed so much over the four years the boys were gone and she had barely noticed but Finn had saw the change.

Now she had changed again, over the past few months and then again over night.

Polly nodded, stepping out of the room but the boys didn't budge. Polly tried to usher them out. A hungover Arthur stood at the door slowly backing out, not taking his eyes off of his sister. John silently called Finn out the room who hesitated.

Tom didn't make any signs of movement. He stood there with the family behind him. Polly took note that he wasn't gonna leave and she didn't know if that was a good thing or not. He might get her to open up and talk or he might anger her.

Polly closed the door leaving the two siblings in the room much to John's protests.

He sat in the chair that seemed to be passed around to everyone. Vivian stared at him waiting for him to start. She had just woken up and she wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone.

"Can we talk?" He asked his sister.

"That wasn't a question, we are talking, right? No matter what I say" Vivian responded, "whatever Thomas Shelby wants, Thomas Shelby gets. Whatever Thomas Shelby says, goes." She quoted one of the woman she had heard in the shop.

"Look, I just want to know what happened so I can fix it." Sighing, he said.

"What if I don't want you to fix it. 'I'll deal with it but it's the last time' is what you said the when you thought I killed someone. So I'll deal with it because it is my responsibility. And I'll deal with whatever consequences come at me." She spoke in a tired voice but her face remained cold, colder that Tom ever thought it could be.

He watched her movements as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and brushed her hair out of her face, "look, I didn't mean it, I will always be here to help you as your brother, whether you need me to drive you somewhere or to cover up a murder." He lightly joked but Vivian's expression never changed.

"As my brother, you should have believed me and known that it wasn't me." She answered.

"Fine, I believe you-"

She cut him off before he could go on, "no, you are just saying that now."

"Vivian, at least tell me what happened so I can help you and just understand what you are going through."

"You can try help but you will never understand what I'm going through, just like I will never understand what you boys went through during the war."

Maybe she was being harsh but she didn't care. Thomas was always someone you could be blunt with.

He nodded, "Is there anything I can do?" He asked, somewhat giving up.

"You can start by never doubting me again and know that I would never lie about something so serious like killing someone or accusing someone of being a killer." Vivian said, " and you could make me some breakfast, some jam toast maybe." She asked, lightly the mood in the tense room.

He nodded, smiling lightly. Standing up, he walked over to her and pulled her up from the bed and hugged her. He let go, not wanting to hurt her more.

He went to leave but stopped at the door, "Ryan asked if he could come over later." He said. Ryan hadn't asked, he knew he could just walk in, because this was his home to at this point too, same with Isaiah. She knew Ryan was going to tell her.

His little sister nodded and he left, "wait, are you going to make me breakfast, Tom? Can you hear me? Thomas?" She shouted but she heard him carried on going down stairs, "what a fucking prick." She said to herself. It was too early in the morning for this shit.

She walked over to the mirror and stared at herself. It was the first time she actually saw what he did to her. She froze as she remembered his words and his actions. She looked broken and beaten, and she hated that he and Janet were left perfectly fine.

After all these weeks, she was the one hurt, not the boy she thought she loved or the girl that pretended to be her friend.

Hours she had sat at the window last night and it was worth it as confirmed what she had heard was true. Later on in the night, a second figure appear in the window and she felt her heart break knowing it wasn't a lie. She hadn't seen him enter, guessing he used the back door.

She saw as they kissed and held each other and before she saw more, she had sprinted to the bathroom, throwing up whatever food was left in her stomach. She sat on the bathroom for almost an hour, not wanting to see anymore.

Everything hurt.

She didn't cry, nor did she scream and shout. She didn't want to let them win by letting them knowing they got to her.

So instead, she stared at her reflection, praying that karma would get them soon before she did.

—

Birmingham | 1907

    The sun had set long ago and most people in the household were asleep, or should have been. A little girl was stood by the kitchen door, that was only open ajar. A little sliver of light shone through the crack where the brunette peaked through.

On a dark street was a loud house. Shouting and fighting filled the household as Maeve and Arthur Sr. Shelby screamed at each other, well mostly Arthur. The man threw dishes and glasses around the kitchen in a fit of madness.

The two had been at it for the past twenty minutes and it all started because Arthur was late home from the pub and the drunk man started shouting about his dinner not being on the table and how the house was such a mess. The house was probably the cleanest house on the street.

His wife didn't want to anger him anymore but there were just some nights when she couldn't take it — and tonight was one of those nights.

Usually on nights like this, Vivian's aunt would take them in along with her two kids but recently she was on the road with her family. So the Shelby kids would lock themselves in their rooms. Or sometimes, like tonight, they'd stay in the one room, protecting each other if a certain father stumbled in to a room that wasn't his looking for a fight.

On this night, however, the almost six year old woke up in her room alone to the familiar sound of glass shattering and screeching voices. She wandered out of her room to investigate to find her older sisters door open and her room empty as well as Arthur's.

The girl tip-toed down the stairs as if her little feet would cause more noise than her parents. She made her way to the kitchen following the dim glow than came from the kitchen.

His voice echoed through the house, "You have one job, woman. Put food on the table for the family and me to eat and clean this fucking shithole. And you failed."

Vivian watched as the man shouted in her mother's face, and waited for her answer, "I am not your maid, I am your wife. You seem to forget that. I did make dinner and I did fucking clean." Her mother's voice broke as she shouted at the man.

A loud slap silenced Maeve, making little Vivian gasp quietly, "Don't you dare speak to me like that. You are my wife, yes but you seem to forget is that I am your husband and you must respect me. When I ask for something, you will get it. Do you understand?"

Her mother froze, staring at the ground and holding her burning cheek. When she didn't answer he grabbed her, making the woman look at him. Her mother cried at the sudden action. He hit her across the face again and again.

Vivian couldn't watch anymore. But instead of choosing the smart option and getting her brothers, she decided to opened the door further and ran over to her mother. The girl gripped her mum's dress.

Arthur had stopped the moment he heard the door squeak open, "What the fuck are you doing?" He shouted at the girl who stayed close to Maeve, "Go to your room."

Her mother's shaking hand rested on her head, "No." shaking her head, she said back.

"Go to your room before I give you a good hiding." He stepped closer to his daughter.

Vivian stood still holding onto the smooth fabric her mother always wore. The little girl  found comfort in the familiar fabric, that felt similar to silk. "I want mum to read me a story."

"A story? For fucks sake." He muttered

"Go up stairs, dove, I'll be up soon." Her mother whispered to the girl who looked up at her. Her tear stained cheeks and sad eyes she tried to cover with a reassuring smile.

Raising his voice, the man interrupted the two, "No, she doesn't need a story."

"Arthur." Her mum whispered to the man. Vivian felt the woman push her slowly behind her.

"No why does she need a story, eh?" He spat in the woman's face.

"Why do you need to hit mum?" She whispered quietly.

"What was that girl?" He spoke loudly, turning to his young daughter.

"Nothing." She muttered back, walking further behind her mother but he dragged her from behind his wife to in front of him.

"No what did you say?" He spoke slower but louder.

"Nothing, honest." She shouted back, tears filling her eyes. He gripped her wrists as her mum held her shoulders, trying to push him away with her free hand.

"Let go of her." She tried, "Leave her be, please." She kept trying but he was fixated on getting he girl's answer.

"She needs to learn, woman." He said to away, causing her to stumble into the kitchen table. His nails continued to dig into her wrists as she was dragged with him as he got the belt.

Her mother screamed at him from the floor, fumbling to her feet to get to her daughter but she didn't get the change as she slipped. Arthur Sr. held the belt tightly in one hand and his daughter in the other. Vivian used her free hand to claw at his hand that squeezed her left wrist.

But the almost six year old didn't have enough strength to get out of his grip. Vivian stayed quiet, just waiting for the leather to mark her body.

Before the belt got a chance to hit her, her mother had pulled his hand off of hers. And without even thinking about Vivian bolted out the kitchen door and ran out the front door. Her little legs couldn't get her far so she hid behind the wall at the end of the street.

"You better stay away, girl." His voice rang through the streets.

—

That night, she sat against the wall, drifting in and out of sleep. She woke up to find she was in bed and Polly was making breakfast. And for the rest of the week she stayed in bed after getting a fever from sitting on the cold dirty ground all night in October.

What happened was never brought up among the family, either frightened it would upset their mother or cause their father to take his anger out on their little Vivian.

But the young girl never forgot the anger in her father's eyes and the tears in her mother's. She never forgot the fingerprint-shaped bruises that marked her small arms for days. She never forgot the moment she decided to run to her mum as the man beat her.

That night, she didn't watch the scene from afar. She didn't wish she was in her mother's position instead. The mother that was trapped.

—

NOTES

Hiiii! I got kind of bored with this chapter so I juts shorten it and added a something from past. At the end of act one (which might be a while away — not sure yet) I might take a break because from what I have planned so far, it might be my favourite part to write. So I want it to more organised and this act xox