AS EVELYN STEPPED into Birmingham for the first time, her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The air was thick with the scent of coal and industry, a far cry from the freshness of pollen and wet grass. The sky was clouded by gray smoke, pushing against towering brick buildings that loomed above her, their stormy facades a stark contrast to the sun she always welcomed.

The streets were alive with a cacophony of voices — men shouting over the clamor of machines, women haggling in markets, the occasional laugh cutting through the crowd.

Huddled deep inside the safety of John's new automobile, she watched as men in flat caps as they hurried past, their sharp suits hinting at a world of power and danger she had only heard about in whispers. The cobblestones beneath the rubber tires felt foreign and unforgiving, yet they pulsed with a vibrant energy that captivated her.

Birmingham felt like a living beast, its heart beating with ambition and grit. But beneath the glamour of a new world, her mind whirled with anxiety, her eyes attempting to scan every face for the familiar features of her father. Evelyn was both drawn in and hesitant, marveling at the complexity of it all, where beauty and brutality intertwined in a dance as old as time. This was a new world that both thrilled and terrified her, a stark reminder that she was far from the safety of the shadows she had spent the last few years in.

"If you get any closer to the window," Esme whispered to her left, "You'll fog up the new glass."

"And you'll crush my bones," Arthur groaned, shifting his weight against Evelyn's side.

Evelyn blinked, her consciousness returning to the insides of the vehicle. She had been slowly inching her way towards the window, amazed at the world that passed by, and totally oblivious to the fact that she had been placed between her cousin and Thomas's brother.

In the front bench, John chuckled as Evelyn pulled back in her spot.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly, her cheeks burning, "Where are we headed anyway? I thought you lot weren't allowed back in the city."

"We aren't," Arthur grumbled, rubbing his ribcage, "But that's not gonna stop us."

"Ada's got a place," John added, "We're going there now."

Evelyn cocked an eyebrow, "How'd she manage that?"

John and Arthur both let out a low laugh, before Arthur replied, "She's a Peaky fuckin' Blinder!"

But as it turned out, the real reason Ada had managed to stay in Birmingham this long was due to one simple fact: she went by Ada Throne. This small simple miscalculation on Danior's part meant that the Shelby family had been able to maintain a direct line into the city, as Ada spent her time toeing the line between friend and foe. Her marriage had given her freedom, an ability to shield herself from the violent rampage Danior had inflicted within his budding empire while she raised her son, out in the open for everyone to see.

And this is what surprised her the most — each alleyway and corner seemed to hold secrets — stories of the Peaky Blinders and the dark undercurrents of life in the city. The people's loyalty remained with family, The Garrison and all, because of their undying promise to give back. Underneath their control, Thomas had filtered their wealth back to the working class, protecting the men that had on the Peaky Blinders payroll and their families.

She had discovered all of this when she arrived at Ada's home, her questions spewing from her mouth the moment she was inside the townhouse and sitting at the woman's table for a cup of tea. Ada's undiscovered connections meant she was able to uncover that Danior was unfavorable, his greed overwhelmingly apparent. The Birmingham men who worked for her father despised the man, and the only truly loyal soldiers were the Romani that he kept as his closest advisors.

He did nothing to keep the city's unrest at bay. Where Thomas had given the people hope, Danior had managed to fill the void with an unwavering resentment.

"Say what you will about my brother," Ada said to Evelyn as she lifted the white teacup to her lips, "But he's always done one thing right. He has always been for the people like us."

Arthur, John and Thomas were in the adjoining parlor room, doing God knows what. Ada had used this as an opportunity to get Evelyn acquainted with her house, because everyone felt it was best for her to stay with the Throne girl, and her husband Freddie, while the gang determined their next move. And after a lengthy and exhausting tour, the women decided to split a few biscuits over some freshly brewed tea.

"This city needs someone that speaks to them," Polly agreed, "Someone who can prove that our blood isn't a barrier from the top — who has been in the city long enough to know that we were forced into this life of factories and poverty. To the people, Danior is simply an enemy. He is who can't relate to their struggle."

Evelyn chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, her index finger swirling around the rim of the cup that held her untouched drink, "You're starting to sound like those commies that the coppers are up against."

Ada smiled gently, "Thomas pretends he's not with the cause, but he relates to the struggle more than he'd care to admit."

"If the people are so loyal to you all, how did you manage to lose in the first place?"

Ada's smile faltered, and Polly's face darkened. The older woman, who was standing across from the table in the far corner of the kitchen, pulled out a cigarette to smoke. Silence filtered between the group for a long moment, as Ada and Polly shared a knowing look. After the cigarette was lit, the matriarch said simply:

"Love, darling," she breathed, white fog falling gracefully to the floor as she spoke, "It's a man's greatest weakness."

"Love?" Evelyn echoed, "What do you mean?"

Ada poured herself another cup, before reaching across the table to pluck a cube of sugar from a bowl, "What Polly means to say, is that Tommy can't keep it in his pants."

"Shush, Ada," Polly warned, "Or they'll hear you."

Ada leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a suppressed whisper, "Last year, a woman showed up looking for work at the Garrison. No one knew who she was, but they hired her anyway because the men had been begging for a pretty face to work the bar and to sing on Saturday nights."

"Grace," Polly chimed in, "Her name was Grace."

Ada nodded in confirmation, "Grace was a double agent, but no one knew it until after..." she trailed off, unsure if she should reveal the whole truth of the story. After a moment, Ada said, "By then, Tommy had already fallen in love."

An image flashed into Evelyn's head just then — it was a black and white photograph of a blonde haired woman, one that was perched in Thomas's caravan on the first day they crossed paths. Was that the woman they were referring to now?

"We were fighting two forces at once, and Tommy had been blinded by love," Polly added, "That's why he didn't see Danior coming."

It was a hard fact for Evelyn to wrap her mind around. She could not visualize Thomas in love, of showing himself at his most vulnerable to someone else outside of his family. But then again, Evelyn had never done so herself. She had no clue what it meant to be in love, because she never trusted a man enough to allow such joy to occur. The only love she ever received had come from her mother, and the only love she had ever given was towards her son.

Evelyn suddenly felt the urge to ask Polly and Ada what it felt like to be in love. For once, she was around two women who she felt like she could trust. Their energy was warm and welcoming, and yet she could not bring herself to ask them. It seemed too trivial and childish, and the topic alone would open doors to discuss the trauma she had never said out loud.

"Where is the woman now?" Evelyn queried instead, and she was met with a shrug from Ada.

"She ran off," Polly answered, "She took a train in the middle of the night and never said a word."

Evelyn turned her attention down at her tea, which was now tepid, focusing on the muddled reflection of her face as she digested this information. She felt a pang of remorse for him, the idea of Thomas lying in bed at night, brokenhearted, stirring unmixed feelings in her stomach. He, too, had been betrayed by someone who was supposed to love him, and she wondered if the two were more similar than she had originally believed.

Her thoughts were broken as Ada slammed her palms down onto the table. Evelyn jolted quick to attention, her eyes blinking rapidly in surprise.

"Enough sorrow. Let's do something fun, shall we?"

Evelyn's brows furrowed, "Like what?"

"Well," Ada lulled, "If you're gonna be a Peaky Blinder, you should at least look like one."

Polly perked up instantly, "Are you suggesting a makeover?"

Ada giggled excitedly, pushing back her chair loudly as she got to her feet, "Freddie won't be back with Karl for a few hours, and I've been dying to do something productive."

"I dunno," Evelyn felt her body curl inwards, "I think I look fine."

"Of course you do," Ada sighed, and she reached for Evelyn's wrist, "You've been around nothing but birds and squirrels for most of your life."

Polly clicked her tongue, turning towards Ada's cabinets and ruffling through its contents. Seconds later, she pulled out a large decanter of dark, golden liquid.

"Whiskey will make it hurt less," Polly mused, "Let's go have some fun, ladies."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Ada Throne had been swift, and Evelyn hadn't seen her coming.

Their fight began with the snip of one small curl, the slicing sound of shears near Evelyn's ear as she huffed over the new dress that Polly had instructed she wear. It was loose, the dark green cotton hanging off her shoulders only to plunge in U-shape and stop just before her cleavage. The hemlines were threaded in golden yarn — Evelyn couldn't bring herself to ask if it was real gold — with soft, fabricated buttons that ran down the middle to create a ruffled lapel.

Evelyn had never worn something so delicate, so feminine and expensive that it felt entirely wrong for it to be shown off on her boyish frame.

"This is too much," Evelyn shook her head as she stood in front of the floor length mirror in Ada's powder room, "I look ridiculous."

"You can't go walking around Birmingham looking like you just rolled around on a bed of hay," Ada remarked, "Everyone will know that you're not from here."

"I happen to enjoy beds of hay," Evelyn retorted, reaching for her glass of whiskey and shooting back the remainder of her drink, "They make the most comfortable beds."

Ada rolled her eyes, turning to her vanity and ruffling through its drawers. Polly stood next to her, admiring her handiwork with a glass perched in her hand. As the older woman's eyes traveled up the dress, her brown stare came to rest on Evelyn's features.

Polly took a drink, "Something's missing."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, "What do you mean?"

But Polly ignored her, turning her head around to face Ada. Silently, she pointed a slender finger to something on the top of the vanity's table. Ada nodded once in agreement, and thus it began.

At first, she hadn't noticed the dark lock that lay helplessly by her barefoot, blending in with the warped wooden floor beneath. It wasn't until Evelyn saw the glint of sharp metal against the peeking sunshine behind heavy curtains that she realized what was unfolding before her eyes.

She whirled around, the shears a mere inch from slicing the tip of Evelyn's nose. The alcohol hummed through her blood system, invigorating her confidence more so.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Ada's eyes widened in shock, "We're cutting your hair."

"No," she responded harshly, "You're not."

Ada let out a long, drawn out sigh, her breath smelling faintly of sweet, smoky wood from their drinks, "We have to cut it. No one keeps their hair long anymore."

She stepped back, her body pushing against the mirror as much as she could, "I don't care. I'm not cutting it."

"C'mon Evelyn," Ada whined, "It's 1920. We live in a new, liberated age. All the girls are wearing their hairs short."

Ada's speech was slightly slurred, but in the moment, Evelyn hardly noticed. All three of the women were tipsy, and it didn't little to squash the events that unfolded.

"I don't care," Evelyn reiterated, her voice rising.

Ada, it seemed, was just as stubborn as Evelyn, because this only motivated the woman to attempt to cut her hair more. A frantic chase ensued, one in which Evelyn bolted around the room, knocking everything over as Ada wildly attempted to helplessly corner her. Polly, who was more drunk than anyone else in the space, found the whole charade amusing, and she had promptly climbed on top of the toilet to watch the young women fight.

"God," Polly mused loudly to no one, "I miss being young!"

"You're not helping," Ada shouted in annoyance, the shears gripped tightly in her palm. She sidestepped in Evelyn's direction, but with a shriek, Evelyn quickly ducked underneath one of Ada's outstretched arms to the opposite end of the room.

Seconds later, footsteps could be heard barreling up the stairs. In a flash, the doorway became cramped with the Shelby brothers, their eyes wild and anxious from the commotion that they heard from below.

"What the fuck are you ladies doing?" Arthur bellowed, breathless. He stood in front of John and Thomas, who peered into the powder room with surprise as their gazes moved from Polly to Ada to Evelyn, landing on the pair of scissors that Ada held dangerously in the air.

Polly grinned, "We're giving Evelyn a makeover."

"From up there?" John laughed, eyeing Polly as she stood on top of the ceramic toilet seat.

"Someone has to supervise these two," she said in amusement, "They've been drinking."

"I'm trying to cut her hair," Ada told the boys, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, her body rigid in irritation. Evelyn took a slow breath, her own heart beating rapidly from the small chase.

Thomas, who had been silent until this point, asked in a soft voice, "Why are you doing that, Ada?"

"Because," Ada explained slowly, her eyes never leaving Evelyn, "She needs to fit in if she doesn't want to get noticed."

"I'm sure there are other ways I can achieve fitting in that don't involve removing my hair," Evelyn spat.

"I'm not making you bald," Ada said, before sighing in defeat and turning her attention to her brothers, "Can one of you please explain to Evelyn that her looks are a dead giveaway to who she is?"

"I'm staying out of this," Arthur threw his hands up in defense, backing away from the scene with a chuckle. John gave Evelyn a sympathetic look, his hand scratching the back of his shaved head gently.

"Maybe it would help?" he suggested lamely, causing Evelyn to scoff. She shot John a dirty look, and this prompted a flush of embarrassment to spread over his pale face, "Or not. I don't know, Ada. I'm not a woman."

Ada pursed her bright red lips, her gaze resting on Thomas, who had made his way inside of the powder room. He stood a few feet away, his blue eyes fixed on Evelyn's face. His sister's own stare begged for his support, but he refused to meet Ada's eyes.

Tommy, Evelyn mouthed silently, Please.

To everyone else, it might have seemed silly. It was only hair that was sure to grow back. But in that moment, for Evelyn, it was the last piece of her that wasn't undergoing change. It was the one part of her situation that she felt she could control, that still remained true to who she was and where she came from. The past few weeks had thrusted her into an unknown world — one that threatened pain and bloodshed; that she was certain would change the trajectory of everything she had grown to understand.

Evelyn would wear all the fancy clothes that Polly gave her. She would walk differently, she would talk differently. For once, Evelyn would go against her desire to roam freely and remain stagnant in one place. She would mold herself into the Peaky Blinders's life in all the ways she could, in order to save her son. But her hair — the one part of her that held proof of the roots in which she came — would be left untouched, a reminder that she was still true to herself, first and foremost.

Finally, Thomas's eyes flicked towards his sister, "Leave it alone, Ada."

Relief flooded her system, her eyes fluttering closed as a result and his sister gaped, "But —"

Thomas cut her off quickly, "I don't want to hear it."

He backed out of the room before Evelyn could return her attention to him. And when she discovered he had left, she was swift in making her exit as well, avoiding Polly and Ada's attention as she attempted to catch up with him.

"Tommy, wait," Evelyn called out as he rounded the corner to head back down to the sitting room. She heard his steps pause, his head re-appearing from around the wall as she approached him.

He looked at her expectantly, his foot poised to take the first stair, once she was close enough to talk without the others overhearing.

"Thank you," Evelyn murmured, "For being on my side."

He straightened his stance, both feet returning to the top of the landing. It was the first time they had been given a moment alone since John's wedding, and she sensed that he recognized this as well.

"Ada can be a bit headstrong," Thomas commented, before giving her a lopsided smile, "It's always nice to remind her that she can't always have her way."

"I'm beginning to realize that tendency must run in your family," Evelyn said playfully.

He let out a short laugh, "Well, you're not exactly easy-going either." 

Evelyn's mouth quirked up, "Maybe it's a gypsy thing, then?"

The lids of his eyes fell slightly, gracefully resting over his pupils as he lowered his lashes to observe her.

"Maybe," he whispered lightly, "Just like that hair of yours."

And before she knew it, Thomas's fingers hesitantly reached for hair. He began toying with the bottom strands of it, the one's that fell over her shoulders and past her chest. He let one lock curl against his pinky finger, his thumb grazing the coarseness of it as he rolled it between the pads of his skin. His touch was delicate and unsure, his own face revealing that he was not confident in allowing himself the pleasure of touching her.

Surprisingly, it was not his sudden touch that shocked her. It was seeing the unconfident look that crossed Thomas's features, like he was fearful that Evelyn would reject the kindness he was showing her. Or perhaps, Evelyn wondered, Thomas was more confused with his own desire to do so.

She had no clue, because she suddenly felt conflicted in her own response as well. Part of her wanted Thomas to touch her more — since they had met, she found that she gravitated towards him, searching for ways that their bodies would simply come in contact with a bump of a shoulder or a brief graze of their hands. But another part of her brain warned her to stay focused; that Thomas was just another powerful man with the potential to betray her, that used people in the same way her father did in order to get what he wanted.

"Tommy," Evelyn said, finding her voice hoarse. He met her eyes once more as she said, "I need to stop drinking so much."

He chuckled quietly, "You better keep your wits about you while you're here. I won't always be around to come to your rescue."

"I never said I needed saving," Evelyn reminded.

Thomas clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his mind lost in thought, "You're right," his voice filled the small space between them, the raspy nature of his tone weighing heavily in her eardrums, "But perhaps I enjoy doing it, eh?"

And as the words fell from his lips, Polly and Ada entered the hallway in a fit of laughter, disrupting the moment before Evelyn could formulate a response. But as the two women's attention took in the closeness in which Evelyn and Thomas stood, the gentleness in his fingers as he marveled at her hair, their laughter died considerably. It was enough for Thomas's hand to abruptly return to his side, his eyes blinking as his senses returned to him.

"Oh," was all Ada managed to mumble.

Thomas tore his eyes away from Evelyn, his defenses returning as his face hardened into a stoic disinterest. He turned his back to her, and he disappeared, heading back down the stairs at such a quick pace that she had no time to revel in what had just happened between them.

"Not again," Ada moaned, her face falling into her hands as her shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

Evelyn, however, didn't hear any of it. Instead, her eyes remained frozen on the space Thomas had just occupied, frightened over the revelation that she was beginning to trust a man with her feelings for the first time in her life.