The silence of the night surrounded Leah, it suffocated her. She sat at the dining room table, stirring her spoon through the soup Emma had brought her, but she didn't eat it. It had long since turned cold and had lost its appeal. The bread that had been given to her stared up at her from the table.

Across the table, her father's bowl sat abandoned. It had been prepared, left for him upon his arrival, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared to work that morning and failed to return. Leah swallowed the fear that built up in her stomach. She knew he hadn't met the killer; he had been taking carriages home for weeks.

He had listened to her.

She sighed and sat back against the dining room chair, looking towards the window and the fading light of the city. The sun had dipped behind the houses; the shadows creeping across the window as the lamplighters tried their hardest to illuminate the streets. It wouldn't work. Darkness always found a way. It was impossible to penetrate.

"No sign of your father?" Mrs Manston said, appearing in the doorway. Her long, dark hair flowed down her shoulders and she wore nothing but a simple nightgown after having spent the day in bed with one of her headaches. In the dim candlelight, she looked ethereal.

"Not yet. He might have been delayed." Leah picked up her spoon again, but the cold soup still didn't look appealing. "Father has had a lot of paperwork to do because of this new export."

"I hope it is just the additional paperwork and nothing more."

"Of course, it's just additional paperwork. Why would it be anything else?"

Mrs Manston sighed and stepped into the room, taking a seat in the chair closest to her daughter. "This new export deal means they need to produce far more cotton than usual. My worry is that his employees are being encouraged to work beyond their usual workhouses in order to fulfil the quota."

"Father wouldn't do that. He isn't like most of the factory owners in this city."

"I know you look up to your father, dear, and I do not like to speculate, but it might be possible." She held her hand out as Leah tried to protest further. "I'm not saying that it is a fact, it is just a possibility. For all I know, your father truly is just delayed because of paperwork."

"That's exactly what has happened."

Leah turned away from her mother and rested her hand on her chin, gazing out of the window for any sign of her father. She pushed the anger building inside her. Her mother had to be wrong. Her father was nothing like the other men. He was a good man who treated his employees well and no new quota would change that.

Mrs Manston sighed and stood up from the table, shuffling from the room and leaving Leah alone once more. Leah could scarcely believe her mother would suggest such a thing to her and had the audacity to claim that her father was like those men. If he were, he became a target for the killer and Leah knew that wasn't possible.

Silence descended over the room once more, the darkness creeping in. The candles lit throughout the room did little to fight the impenetrable darkness that surrounded her. She continued to stare at the window, arching her neck towards every man-shaped shadow, watching for an approaching carriage.

He was light because of his paperwork. There was no other plausible explanation.

Hunger took hold of Leah and she gave in, tearing strips off her bread and eating them as she watched the window. Mr Manston had been this late before, even later on some occasions. He would be home soon. He always was.

A shadow emerged from the darkness. Leah watched as a large carriage came to a stop in front of their gate, excitement swelling her chest. She stood up from the table. The candle blew out as she approached the window and stood in the shadows of the living room, waiting for him. Outside, she watched a figure descend from the carriage and walk up the stone path to their house.

Mr Manston had returned.

Keys jangled in the lock, and the front door opened before being quickly closed again. Leah listened to the sound of his footsteps on the floor as he walked up the hallway and poked his head into the dining room. He didn't see Leah standing in the darkness.

"You're late," she said.

He jumped, squinting against the darkness. "Leah? You scared me! What are you doing in the dark?"

"You're late," she repeated.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's all this paperwork. I feel like I'm drowning in it most of the time. As soon as I meet this quota, it should decrease my workload a little."

"Just your workload?"

Mr Manstons stepped into the room and grabbed the box of matches from the mantle. He lit one, holding it up to his face, showing a slight frown. "What do you mean?"

"Well, don't you need the additional cotton to match the quota?"

"You know far too much about my work, my sweet." He laughed and relit the candle on the table, illuminating a small slither of the room. "We are doing well to match the cotton needed for the export. It's just Mr Wentworth and myself who have to stay later than usual."

Leah relaxed, relief washing over her. Although she was certain her father would do nothing untoward with his employees, she had to be certain. She had to confirm. Her father was still the man she thought him to be, despite this export quota hanging over his head. He would never sacrifice his workers for an additional payday.

Mr Manston walked around the table towards Leah and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head. He pulled away and held her lightly by the upper arm, looking her in the eyes.

"You look tired, Leah. Have you been sleeping alright?"

She nodded. "Perfectly fine."

"Perhaps an early night is required. You have to be up earlier than usual if you are to join me at the factory tomorrow."

"Alright." She sighed. "I shall see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, my sweet."

He kissed her lightly on the forehead and released her arms. Leah took the last of her bread from the table and left the room, leaving her father alone.

She could sleep soundly, knowing her father wasn't like those other factory workers.

~~~

First Published - February 13th, 2023