There was a calming silence of the warm breeze and quiet birds that chirped in the distance; the leaves rustled.

"Master?" Veronica came up behind Henry. "May I have a word?" Henry looked to Edward who crumpled in on himself in emotional pain, a tightness in his muscles that aimed to conceal his true feelings he was quickly becoming overwhelmed with.

"Yes, of course." Henry stood up without any help from his arms, holding his cup of tea in one and a plate of cookies in another. He put them down and followed Veronica to the other side of the enormous tree.

"What's the matter with Lucy?"

"Well," Henry leaned against the tree as Veronica began to retell what she'd heard. "First, Lucy said:"

"Oh! They can all go to hell!"

"Well, if that were the case, it defeats the whole purpose of having a place of worship," Veronica noted.

Lucy snapped her head to Veronica's eyes. "Now see here, miss. You're the one who's going to hell for allowing this to happen." She tripped and fell at the crest, sitting on the soft grass.

"I've done nothing to provoke this, and you know it, Mrs. Dunham. Or is that even your real name?" Veronica carefully took a seat beside Lucy.

The atmosphere was becoming dense with the low light of a setting sun between the death of the afternoon and the birth of the early evening: a life for a life.

"No, it's Lucy Potter." She mumbled before continuing. The wind rustled Lucy's curls. "It's my fault for provoking him, but you're doing nothing to stop him from falling for you." She turned to look at Henry who took a glance at her. They met eyes, and Lucy felt hers beginning to water. She looked to Edward who looked as if he was holding himself from devouring Henry.

Can't blame him. No! What am I even thinking? How is Edward falling for him as well?

"Oh! Heavens me!" Lucy fell back. Veronica followed, looking up at the blue sky as it faded into a light color and flooded with the pinkish hue of the setting sun.

"We're not who you think we are, Lucy," Veronica spoke. "We're—" she paused, picking her words carefully. "We're. . .Lonesome people who've learned to please others with our smile. I can't help Henry being the tart he can be and neither can he." She turned her head to Lucy and cut to: "I sound presumptuous, don't I?"

"No, no...not at all...In fact, it makes it a little clearer now." Lucy cleared her throat. "You two are supposed to be model humans."

Veronica took a long hard laugh. "You're silly that's what, Lucy." She smiled but continued to play off the sudden irony. "No, but I suppose you're right."

Henry stared into Veronica's eyes aghast. "Model humans? Doesn't she know we're nothing close to human anymore?"

"That's the hilarious bit." Veronica smiled at the joke again.

"Oh!" Henry clutched his chest and fell against the tree.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"I." he paused, reaching his hand out to look at it. "I just felt my chest convulse. And now I feel my body throbbing. It radiated out from my chest. There it is again!"

Veronica crouched nearby.

"Here!" Henry took her hand and pressed it to his chest. "What is that?"

"That was your heart, sir." She said astonished. "We, we should probably get you home. Immediately." Getting close, Veronica put her ear into the divot of his body and listened carefully for another heart sound. She felt the heart fill, but no heartbeat sounded after it completely stretched. "Never mind, sir, I think it might have been your other muscles contracting. There aren't any more heart sounds."

Henry's gaze collapsed.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was peaceful at the edge of the grotto where a dainty cottage slept in the night. Nocturnal animals sang lullabies, and along the dirt pathway, Lucy slumped in a trance. The crickets lulled her to the back door where she laid down and raked the wooden door with the back of her palm.

"Yes?" The door opened with carefulness, giving way to Henry's worried look.

"Henry! I'm glad it was you that answered."

Henry squinted his eyes. He kept the door only half ajar, hiding behind it.

"What's the matter? Is Veronica asleep?"

Henry shook his head, "No, she's usually up to something around this time of night. What can I do you for?" He hid his smile at the sight of his devious plan unfolding.

"Edward has just left for London, and I was wondering if you would care to join me for a midnight stroll in the nearest city."

"Why," Henry reached for his coat and hat on the back of the chair, "That sounds awfully concerning." He narrowed his eyes in presumptuous thought.

Lucy flicked her hair back. "Nothing that worries me, of course, in fact, as I've been saying, I'm looking for exactly a reason to bring him right before my mother's eyes."

The streets of Canterbury were glistening with the sleek of recent rain, and the lights from lanterns flickered in the reflections. Lucy reached for Henry's arm, but when she lightly touched it, he pulled swiftly away.

"Now, let's be having none of that." He tersely said. Lucy shrunk in on herself, ashamed.

Henry, after giving it much thought, realized he gave the potion to the wrong person. It should have been Edward this whole time! Lucy was already with other men!

Daft fool!

As they rounded a corner, Edward walked out of a sleazy with a group of men stumbling down the steps.

Finally, Henry smiled, there he is!

"Edward?" He stopped cold in his tracks. "What." The rest of the men scrambled away. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going to be in London?" Lucy rushed to him.

"I. . .First-est of awls, what're-you doin' here?" He slurred his words through his drunkenness. "I sid I'd wus gon' be here bu-for londun." His arms swayed with giddiness. "You're one's who's lying." He pointed to Henry, then swayed to point at Lucy.

"I'm here because my mother is sick. I was coming to see her." Lucy huffed, adjusting her coat. She pushed past Edward causing him to stumble forward and trip. Henry rushed out to catch him.

"Oof." Edward landed in Henry's arms. He looked up into his deep blue eyes. "Thanks, mate." He patted Henry's chest. "Thanks, mate."

"Let's get you somewhere where you can sober up, young man."

Under a short stone bridge, Edward leaned against the wall and groaned in pain. It had been a couple hours they laid together in the cold, damp tunnel in silence as Edward slept a little.

When he came through a little later, his brain seemed to pick up speed.

"Is Lucy's mother sick?" Henry asked. He felt Edward's tired head lean against his shoulder at the question.

"Yes, unfortunately. I don't understand how I've been able to keep this marriage but also somehow be royally screwed over by it?"

Henry laughed. "You say you've been wrongfully accused and that you're completely innocent on this matter of injustice."

"Yes!" Edward breathed, his voice cracked. "Yes, because I've been caught and punished for my crimes against her, and I've repented. She's worse for doing it in front of a whole party without repenting to the church. She's damned the whole church, every single last person in that hellhole, and still hasn't been in need of repentance."

He hiccuped. "It's not fair! It's almost as if God has favored her sins instead of me for my lack of sins. Now, I'm not saying I'm a sinless human, that's impossible, but that my sins aren't as dirty as hers. So, so why have I been treated as such?"

"The world isn't always fair, and what seems fair might not always be the case in the eyes of God."

"Fuckoff! Noitsnot!" His words tied together. "Noitsnot! I haven't sinned as much as she's sinned! You don't know sin unless you've seen her sins!" Edward got to his feet. "She's just about tacked off everything on that stone tablet they talk about."

"She's killed a man?"

"Just about! And she's told lies to other people about us, she's been with other men. Take a look at what happened that night at the party! She's done it on Sundays even. She hasn't been to church much and has forgotten God. She's probably taken the Lord's name in vain, as we all seem to do now, but it's different because I know she means it when she says it. She's not been to church, so she means it. She's going to her mother all of a sudden? Her mother has been sick for months—she doesn't honor her. She rarely honors the meek."

Edward sat down in a puddle, "but—I guess I've done just about all of those too." He took in a shaky breath, "but I've repented. I've repented. You know, I wasn't in there for the fun of it. Those boys invited me for a drink, and so I sid, sure, don't be telling no one about it. They sid, sure I sid, and I sid I'd go and I'd get myself a large drink. I be doing nothing with no woman, but I guess just being there indicts me."

Henry kept quiet, listening to Edward's low breathing.

He didn't agree with Edward on any account, but yet he was drunk so nothing of his words mattered. Repenting does nothing if you're going to continue your sin, dear Edward, but as you said, your sins aren't as grandiose as Lucy's.

That still doesn't mean you're destined for heaven.