☆

CLARA HAD BEEN IGNORING HER BROTHER FOR TWO WEEKS NOW. In fact, it had been the longest time she'd ever avoided him for. Every time he'd enter a room, her eyes wouldn't flicker up, every time he attempted to speak to her, she ignored it. Perhaps it was the childish thing to do, but the girl missed Ada, whether or not she'd admit it out loud, she did...and terribly so.

The girl walked along the gravel road, hunched under her Aunt's umbrella. Pol clutched a basket full of food in her hand, her face sullen as they trekked through the rain. Clara ducked into the housing apartment, taking the basket from the woman, allowing her to shake the rain from the umbrella. The girl crept down the stairs, frowning as the basket they'd brought two days prior laid untouched.

"Open up, love," Pol called out, as a baby's cry broke through the air. "We brought more things for you and the baby. I've got some fresh eggs and bread... I'll leave it here." The baby's cry from behind the closed door grew louder and louder, earning a wince from Clara, as she looked to Aunt Pol. "Ada, think of the little one. Babies don't have principles."

There was silence beyond the cries and Clara sighed, hanging her head at her sister's stubbornness. Her Aunt placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head. The girl looked at the door, hoping for it to swing open– yet, it remained in its stationary state. She picked up the basket of mouldy food as the two retreated.

"She's never gonna let us in, is she?" Clara asked, kicking at the pebbles of the street, the rain soaking her skin as she escaped the umbrella's cover.

"Your sister's a stubborn one alright," Pol tutted, her eyes focused on the road. "And your brother did something unforgivable."

Clara nodded, her hands gripped tightly around the full basket, while she followed her aunt through the doors of number six Watery Lane. The girl looked around, immediately shifting her gaze as she spotted her brother leaning against the wall, watching the two enter the home.

Clara gently placed the wasted basket of food onto the table, before kicking off her shoes and placing them by the door.

"Did you speak to her?" Tommy questioned, as Pol brushed past him to take her coat off.

"She didn't speak back."

"Well, did you tell her?"

"I'll only tell her what I know to be true." Polly snapped.

"It's the last time I am going to say this." Tommy gritted, "It wasn't me who shopped Freddie Thorne."

"Tommy... I'd ask you to swear on the Bible, but you can't swear on that, can you?" Polly questioned, looking at the man with distaste. "Nothing you hold is sacred."

Clara watched as her aunt left the kitchen, leaving the brother and sister alone. The girl awkwardly towel-dried her hair with a tea towel, her back to the man who lingered.

"I didn't shop Freddie." He spoke up, causing the girl to turn on her heel to face him.

"I don't know what to believe, Tommy, but Ada is stuck in a rat hole, and her husband's in jail and right now I like her a lot more than I like you," Clara spoke, folding the tea towel. She'd been thinking about it for a week, and she knew exactly where she lay in this mess. "What happened to Freddie was horrible, and I'm siding with Ada on this. If I was in this situation and you had any part of it, I'd be mad too."

"Ask."

"What?"

"Ask if I'm lying."

"You and I both know it doesn't matter."

"Ask."

"Fine," Clara huffed, folding her arms. "Did you call the police and tell them where Freddie was that night?"

"No," Tommy answered.

"No lies?"

"No lies."

Clara tilted her head, looking down at the ground. "And you swear it?" She mumbled, before meeting her brother's gaze.

"I swear." The man moved forward and placed a small raggedy item on the table before stepping back, gesturing for her to look. The girl crept forward, her hand wrapping around the item. Her eyes widened significantly, looking between Tommy and her hand.

"Is this..."

"It's the same, small duck you gave to me in exchange for that hat." He nodded, pointing to her hat on the coat stand.

"Why—"

"I didn't shop Freddie Thorne."

Clara examined the small duck, its once yellow coating now a muddy orange. "And you're sure...no lies?" She questioned, her eyes flickering from her brother to the stuffed duck.

"No lies."

Clara clutched the teddy closer before placing it back on the table. With a curt nod, she bit her lip and left the room. Tommy sighed, yet he knew her silence was her answer. He watched as she disappeared upstairs and out of view, before retrieving the small duck and pocketing it.

☆

CLARA CREPT DOWN THE STAIRS, in her hands she clutched a small bag of goods from the bakery, along with a small bottle of milk. She pushed all of the items into the crook of her elbow, rapping her fist against the wooden door.

"Ada?" She called out, "It's me...Clara....your sister!"

There was silence.

"Ada! Cmon! It's cold, and I'm tired, please just open the door. I'm here alone." Clara leaned against the wall, her head thrown back, her skull knocking against the wall repeatedly.

"C'mon!" She whined, "I can stand out here all day...maybe I'll sing a song or two if I have to."

The door to the small house swung open and a hand dragged the girl inside. The girl staggered into the home as Ada slammed the door shut. She fumbled to steady the items clutched to her chest as her older sister leaned against the door, her eyes boring into Clara.

"Ada..."

"You can't be here," Ada interrupted, brushing past the younger girl.

"I brought you food from Mr Williams' bakery," She offered, holding up the buns and bread, which had been wrapped in cloth. "I also brought milk, dunno if you need it...but it's yours." Ada faltered, her head dropping. "I can help with the baby if you want? I can, uh, hold him or something while you wash or do whatever you need to do?"

"Clara..."

"Let me help."

Ada turned to face her younger sister, whose hands still clutched the baked goods. The woman crept forward, reaching out to take some of the load from the girl.

"I do like the idea of a wash..." she contemplated, her tired eyes beginning to gleam at the thought. "At least a wash where I don't have to be looking over my shoulder every two minutes."

"And then you can have tea and relax, just like Aunt Pol every evening." Clara teased, dropping the items onto the table. A ghost of a smile crossed Ada's face as the girl rocked on her heels. "Where is the little devil anyways?"

Ada stifled a chuckle, walking towards a bassinet. She carefully reached down, pulling out a small bundle of blankets. Clara squinted her eyes, spotting the bald head of the newborn. She froze as her sister approached her, handing her the baby. The girl stared down at the baby, trying to hide her terror.

"He looks like you," Clara stuttered in an attempt to look less horrified. People always said that about babies and she wasn't sure if the baby did look like Ada, but it was worth a shot. "What's his name?"

"Karl... and he's the image of his father." Ada fondly smiled, her finger tracing the baby's face. She stifled a yawn, watching Clara hold the babe. "You'll be okay if I leave you with him?"

The younger girl wanted to beg and plead for her sister to take the baby back, but the baby was the sole reason Clara was there and she intended to follow through.

"Yes, Ada, I'm sure I can hold a baby," she rolled her eyes, "You smell...bad. Go wash, I've got this."

Ada laughed in incredulity, she wrapped her arms around her sister carefully, pulling her into a loose hug so as to not smother the baby. The older girl pulled away and disappeared into another room, presumably to take a well-needed soak.

Clara gently rocked the baby. She'd seen mother's doing it but the very concept of even moving with the baby scared her. He looked so fragile, if she dropped him he surely wouldn't live. The girl shook away the chilling thought, carefully shuffling towards a seat by the fireplace. She slowly lowered herself into the chair, her eyes never leaving the baby.

Perhaps offering to mind Karl was a bad idea. She never did like babies. They always looked so grimy and gross and the mere thought of it all made the girl shudder. Clara pushed down her horror, gulping as she rocked the baby. She was here for Ada's sake, she had to push it down.

"Hello, Karl..." she spoke through her teeth, nervously grinning down at the baby. "I'm Clara...I guess I'm your aunt?... Oh my good god...I'M AN AUNT?!"

Karl gurgled and stirred causing the girl to flinch and lean away. This would be so much easier if he would just stay still and be more...inanimate. Clara furled her lip, awkwardly shifting on the chair, repositioning the baby.

"I hope you're not tormenting her," she spoke, fixing Karl's blanket. "That's my job...or Tommy's, at this rate, I don't know, but take it easy, yeah?"

Unsurprisingly, the baby didn't answer, instead, he opted to spit up an array of contents onto her shirt. The girl let out a small disgusted cry, gagging as she stood straight up, holding Karl out in front of her. She tilted her own head back, resisting the urge to throw up.

"Devil's child." She muttered, grabbing a cloth from the table and wiping off her shirt. Ada emerged from the other room, now looking a lot more refreshed. She watched the girl in amusement as she wiped away the spit-up.

"I'll make tea," Ada announced, sounding a lot happier than before. Clara turned and nodded, still clutching the devil child. She was quick to return with two teacups, placing them on the table. She removed Karl from the girl's arms, placing him back into the bassinet before taking a seat.

Ada hungrily dug into the buns from the bakery, while Clara watched. "Got 'em for free," she pointed out, "Mr Williams heard you had a baby."

"You got them for free because our brothers enjoy scaremongering." The older girl scoffed through bites. Ada had in fact eaten the bun meant for Clara, but the younger girl didn't say anything.

"Maybe so...Ada, this place is miserable." She started. "Why don't you just come home?"

"Clara, look I'm happy you brought this stuff but if Tommy put you up to this—"

"I'm not one of his flying monkeys! I haven't spoken to him in, like, a week."

Ada raised her eyebrows and continued to eat. "I won't forgive him, y'know?" She stated stubbornly.

"I know, you're worse than me when it comes to holding grudges."

The two laughed and for once things felt normal. There was no fighting, no drama, just Ada and Clara insulting each other left, right and centre. And Clara had missed it. She missed her sister. She missed being around the only other girl and bonding with her. And being with her made the girl happy.

But she'd never admit that to Ada of course.

☆

AFTER SPENDING TWO HOURS IN ADA'S, Clara bid her sister goodbye, shoving on her coat over her stained shirt. The girl ran her way through the streets, her stomach rumbling, eager for food. She found her feet carrying her down Watery Lane, all the way to the betting shop.

She wandered through the den pushing her way past the prying eyes and into the kitchen. The girl was quick to pull out a bowl from the cupboard, dumping a handful of cereal in it. Clara turned around, a spoon in hand as she glanced around the room. She jolted back in shock at the sight of the entire family, bar Tommy, gathered in the dining room, their eyes trained on her. She took notice of the strange man sitting at the table, but knowing her family, she just assumed he was some odd business partner.

"If this is a family meeting, I'm offended I wasn't invited," Clara started, standing in the doorway. She looked to her brothers for some sort of response but it was silent, yet all eyes were on her expectedly.

"Why's everyone staring at me?" She questioned, raising a brow as she scooped another spoon of cereal into her mouth.

"Clara," Arthur let out a breath as he stood up.

"Do I've to leave or something?" She rolled her eyes, "Finn's here, I think I should be allowed to stay." Clara's gaze actively avoided the strange man staring at her.

"Clara, oh, my little girl," The man stepped out of his seat, his arms spreading. The Irish lilt in his voice was slightly off-putting, causing the girl to scrunch up her face.

The girl looked around with wide, confused eyes, chewing her cereal as she raised her brow.

"Right, who's this?...Do I know you?"

The man looked taken aback, his arms dropping to his side as John and Pol hid their snickers. Clara spooned another lump of cereal into her mouth.

"Clara, this is our dad," Arthur spoke up.

Clara choked, just managing to swallow her cereal with a chest wracking cough. "What?" She spluttered, her spoon of cereal stopping halfway to her mouth.

"This is dad," Arthur reiterated.

"I don't have a dad," Clara shrugged nonchalantly, straightening up with every word and despite her cool exterior, her heart was racing and her hands were beginning to sweat.

"Clara," Arthur's eyebrow twitched, his frustration rising.

"Leave it be, son, she doesn't remember her dear old dad," Arthur Sr. sighed, patting Arthur's back.

"She has a name, and you should know why I don't remember you." Clara smugly replied, plastering the most insincere smile she could muster across her face.

It had been explained to her growing up that her father had left them as if they were nothing, and to say the girl felt a little bit of hatred towards him was an understatement. Every girl she knew had a loving father, one that cared for their little darling...Clara didn't have the same privilege. She placed her empty bowl on the table, going to stand in the doorway of the kitchen.

"I'm going to the yard." She informed them, her blunt voice threatening to crack.

"You're still in love with horses, ey?" Arthur Sr. laughed, "Used to love them when you were younger."

Clara didn't answer, opting to fold her arms and look at Pol who shook her head, silently telling the girl to stay put. The girl zoned out as Arthur talked to their father, and it was only when he returned with a sandwich, did Clara scrunch up her nose and tune back in.

"Thank you. You are a good boy." Arthur Sr. nodded, "Bless you, Father, for these bounties we are about to receive..."

"Jesus Christ..." Pol scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Please, woman...not in vain."

"Finish your sandwich and sling your hook." Clara had never heard Aunt Pol sound so snarky, in fact, the sound of it caused the girl's lips to quirk up in amusement.

"Pollyanna. I'm the guest of the head of this family, so why don't you tend to your mangle or your scuttle?" Arthur Sr. jabbed, tilting his head, glowering at the woman.

"The head of the family ain't here." John finally spoke up from beside Finn. Clara looked at her younger brother, his gleaming eyes staring at their father.

"Tommy...he sometimes helps me with business," Arthur explained slowly. Clara turned her head as the door to the kitchen creaked open, revealing Tommy. He glanced at the girl, her eyes widening as a warning and as if he received the message, he steadily approached her and the rest of the family.

"Ah. Well. Speak of the devil." Arthur Sr. chuckled, "How are you, son?" Tommy didn't move, his cold exterior not faltering for a second. Clara's eyes flitted between their father and her brother, as she pushed herself further against the wall.

"Get out," Tommy stated as he lightly shook his head, his calm tone earning a wince from the girl. A calm Tommy was somehow worse than a venomous one.

"Come on, son. I'm a changed man." Arthur Sr. began, holding his arms out once more.

"This family needed you ten years ago when you walked out on it. Not now. Get out of this house."

"Tommy, he's different..." Arthur defended before he was promptly cut off.

"You shut up." Tommy's tone was sharp, his eyes never leaving his father's figure.

"It's all right, son. Arthur Shelby never stays where he is not welcome." The man grabbed his coat, his eyes jumping over Clara, who was mentally trying to pull off some sort of trick to make herself disappear into the wall behind her. His piercing stare bit into Tommy. "Quite something you've become."

He walked towards the door, ruffling Finn's hair. "Bye, son." He sighed. Clara watched as her younger brother peered out after their father only to be pulled back by John. The girl locked eyes with him, shaking her head at the younger boy's forlorn eyes.

"He's our dad," Arthur muttered, his temper rising.

"He's a selfish bastard." Tommy gritted.

"You calling someone a selfish bastard? That's a bit rich, Tommy." Arthur spat, "I mean, thanks to you... we're already down a sister, and god knows that the other bloody hates ya."

Clara cringed as Pol and Tommy's eyes subtly flitted to her. She pressed her fingers against the wall, needing to feel the stability as awkwardness filled the air. The girl looked to the floor, taking a sudden interest in her boots.

"If you want to see him, Arthur..." Tommy pinched his nose, before pointing to the door. "You want to see him? You can go with him."

Arthur jumped to his feet, standing in front of Tommy, his fist curling, before he stormed out, slamming the door after him. It wasn't long until John took off with Finn on his heel and for Tommy to storm out, leaving Pol and Clara alone.

The girl fiddled with her fingers before catching her Aunt's gaze. "Ada's okay." She muttered, her voice low, yet Polly jolted closer at the sound.

"She let you in?!"

Clara nodded, she opened her jacket, pointing to the spot where the baby had thrown up. "His name's Karl, he threw up on me." She smiled, "Brought her a small thing of milk and a few buns from the bakery...it was all I could carry."

Pol allowed a faint smile to grace her features, pulling the girl in for an unexpected hug. Clara squirmed a bit before loosening up and allowing her Aunt to run a hand through her hair., her fingers looping through its locks.

"Oh my girl, at least we know you don't get your bloody heart from that man."

Clara wriggled free, scrunching her face together. "Can I go now?" She asked, watching her aunt roll her eyes with a small smile.

"Go on then,"

And so Clara left, she ran out of her house, down the lane and all the way to the yard. She couldn't be in that house. Not after the day they'd all experienced. So as she lay alone amongst the hay in Cannon's stall, all she wished was for things to stop.

For her brothers to stop dictating everything.

For her sister to come home.

For her family to just simply be...a family?

☆

HELLO AND WELCOME TO YET ANOTHER CHAPTER OF TROUBLE!

How is everyone on this very fine Friday?

I, for one, am absolutely exhausted! School is starting soon for me, which may mean my posting schedule will shift. I may have to start posting on Sundays rather than Fridays but I'll have to play it by year and see what happens!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to drop a vote and comments to boost my morale <333

I LOVE YOU ALL AND SINCE I DO, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU A SNEAK PEEK INTO THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THIS BOOK!

"Her leaden lungs suppressed any efforts she made to inhale and fear became a tangible, living force that seemed to creep over her like some hungry beast, immobilizing the girl and her brain, holding her captive.

Her brothers would be disappointed.

She was a Shelby begging.

Shelby's didn't beg."

me after showing you guys that preview:

ANYWAYS... I SHALL SEE YOU NEXT FRIDAY!