The city thought they were safe from me.

All these years, they had been free of my watchful gaze, the wrath that I unleashed against the unworthy men of the city. They breathed a sigh of relief when the killing stopped and welcomed the end, even though the perpetrator was never identified. Some say I died, others decided I had had enough.

I was just biding my time.

The girl from the Inn, Helen, smuggled me out of the city with the help of some friends. They took me up North, somewhere I could live under a new name and identity without anyone being able to find me. They would give me updates on the city and I would ask them about my family, about the killer. None of them asked questions. They didn't need to know why I left the city.

Father never turned me in. No one would have believed him if he dared say anything. I knew he didn't want to turn his precious daughter in to the officers where she might face the hangman. The newspapers reported my disappearance and described how I had vanished into thin air with pleas for me to return home, but I never did.

Three years after my escape from the city, Ezra Wentworth died. Consumption. He too never breathed a word, but he also didn't think I was capable of committing the crimes I had all but admitted to. Mr Wentworth sold his half of the factory and moved south of London to the seaside.

Mother still fights her headaches in the city. The newspaper reported that they had become worse after my disappearance. Helen's friends informed me that they rarely spoke to one another.

They lived in the same house, but they existed as strangers.

It has been seven years since I last stepped foot in the city, but my time has come to return. My work was not finished that night and there were still plenty of men who needed to pay. I will not rest until my work is finished.

There is one obstacle I need to remove.

Father is the only one who knows my identity, the only one likely to expose me upon my first strike back. I know he continued his abuse towards his employees. Men like that never change. Besides, he thought himself safe upon my disappearance. No one is safe from me. Not for long.

I merge into the shadows as easily as I had in the past, hiding in the darkness and welcoming it as though it was an old friend I had lost contact with. He walks down the street. Even after all these years, he looks the same. It is only me who has changed. I listen to him whistle that same tune, the one who had whistled when I first tried to strike.

This time, I do not allow myself to be overcome by emotion.

I dart out of the shadows, step behind him, and seize my opportunity.

"Good evening, Father," I say.

He turns slowly, and stares at me with the same wide eyes he did all those years ago. I smile.

"I always finish what I started."

"Leah."

This time, there is no Ezra to stop me. There are no officers patrolling the streets, no one to catch me. I bring my hammer down, listening to the sound of it connecting with his head, watching the way his skull collapses inwards upon impact.

He falls to the ground, my name still on his lips; his last words.

Men may think they can escape me. They think they are safe from me, but no one is ever safe.

I am and always will be their downfall.

~~~

First Published - February 16th, 2023