Leah could scarcely look her father in the eye. When she did, all she could see was the look on the woman's face back at the factory. She would feel the anger swell inside her and have to fight to keep it down and hidden, so he never saw it. He couldn't see it. He couldn't know the truth.

She had defended him and trusted in him, but it had all been a lie. He was no better than the other factory owners of London, no better than the scum she had fought so hard to remove. Leah had looked up to Mr Manston for her entire life and admired him for being different compared to the other men of the city, but he was exactly the same.

It pained her to say that he needed to go, too.

It would be hypocritical of her to eliminate the other men for their crimes against their employees and not do the same to her father. She couldn't, and wouldn't, let her emotion cloud her judgement, as men thought women were often likely to do. She had seen the truth with her own eyes. Emotion wasn't a factor, helping the city was.

Leah knew she had to bide her time a little more. She needed to be careful and make sure everything was planned. The last thing she wanted to do was fall at the last hurdle. Fail at the task she had worked so hard to complete. Anger still welled up inside her when she thought of Mr Hutchinson and the way he had escaped her. That couldn't happen again.

Her father would be working late again that night. Once again, he claimed it would be because of paperwork, but Leah now knew the truth. There couldn't have been that much paperwork for the quota. She understood that more clearly than she had just a few days before. He had to make sure his employees were working beyond their usual hours, being exploited, and being paid less for more work. Leah wondered if Mr Wentworth knew about it.

She made sure she had everything she needed. It all had to go smoothly.

A knock at the door caught her attention. Leah grabbed the pile of clothes and the hammer and threw them under the bed, hoping the clothes would muffle the sound of the hammer hitting the ground.

"Come in," she said, trying to keep her breathing steady. The last thing she needed was for someone to catch on so soon.

Emma pushed open the door and curtseyed. "Mr Ezra Wentworth is here to see you, Miss."

"Why on earth is he here?"

"I don't know, he didn't say. He is waiting for you in the parlour."

"Very well." She sighed. "Will you come and see him with me? I do not think I can stand another one of his crazy theories on my own."

"Yes, Miss."

Leah left her room, glancing back briefly to make sure the clothes were hidden under her bed. She crept silently down the stairs with Emma behind, her footsteps loud against the wooden floorboards. Emma missed the creak on the last step.

They stepped into the parlour where Ezra stood, staring out of the window much like he had when Leah had visited his house a week before. He knotted his hands in front of him. Leah cleared her throat and watched him whip around to stare at her, eyes wide. She didn't want to speak to him. She had to prepare for the task ahead of her and not deal with any more interruptions.

"What do you want, Mr Wentworth?" she said, her manners disappearing. Who needed manners when she had a task to complete?

"Pleasant as always, Miss Manston." He smiled. "There is an update on Mr Hutchinson, the man who survived his attack."

Leah's breath caught in her throat, her hands shook, and she could hear blood roaring in her ears. Her heart beat faster, threatening to leap from her chest and land on the floor at her feet. Mr Hutchinson had seen her. He had been the only one to see her face and live to tell the tale. She prayed Ezra had come to inform her of his death.

All of that work couldn't stop now, it just couldn't.

"What about him?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but panic rose in her chest.

"He's awake. The officers were talking about it today."

"Does he remember anything?"

Ezra shrugged. "A little. He doesn't remember any details about the attacker's face. He thinks it may have been too dark to notice anything. The only thing he said was that whoever attacked him was short, a lot shorter than he is."

"Well, that's something at least." Leah deflated a little. "Do you think it will help the officers?"

"I don't know. At least they know to look out for people of shorter stature. It may not help them very much, however, as there isn't a lot of information to go on. Not really."

"Maybe he will remember something else soon. Memories can be tricky things."

"Perhaps."

Leah felt herself deflate at the news that either Mr Hutchinson hadn't seen properly, or his memory had been so badly addled that he couldn't remember seeing her. She had to pray that his memory never returned. He was the only one who could destroy her, and she wasn't about to let that happen, not when there were so many other men who needed to pay.

Ezra Wentworth left a little while later, having delivered the news he had sent out to. He didn't stay for too long, nor did he continue to share any of his insane theories with Leah. Despite how idiotic he might have been, his back-handed comment about how she knew who was responsible had been close. He just hadn't realised that a woman could be capable of such horrific acts of violence.

He had been so close to uncovering the truth, had unknowingly discussed theories with the real perpetrator. Leah had to give him his dues for at least trying. Ezra and the officers had tried their hardest to uncover the truth, but they would never find her. She was far too clever for that.

She turned to Emma. "I think I shall have supper in my bedroom tonight since Father will be late."

"Yes, Miss."

"Also, I shall put myself to bed. I would like to finish my book and it may take me a while."

"If you are sure, Miss."

Leah nodded. She knew Emma worked hard and didn't like being shoved to the side in such a way, but she needed time to get everything in order. She had to be alone if it were to go according to plan.

~~~

First Published - February 15th, 2023