In a state of bafflement and utter disorientation, Adeline frantically scurried out of her creaky bed, grasping at her chest where her locket should have been but mysteriously was not. She was absolutely certain it was there when she went to sleep. In fact, Adeline had not ceased to wear it, even to bathe, since Thomas' funeral.

Hastily, Adeline lit her gas lamp in the dark and quiet of the night, illuminating her bedroom. She rummaged frantically through her bedding, hunting feverishly for her treasured locket, but as each starched layer was tossed carelessly to the floor, it became abundantly clear that the necklace was not amongst the folds.

It simply was not possible. Adeline fervently dismissed the coincidence of her dream aligning itself perfectly with her waking experience. She believed it was nothing more than a trick of her own mind. However, Adeline surely would not have carelessly misplaced such an important piece of her past either.

After rooting atop her nightstand without success, Adeline dropped to the floor on her knees to search under her bed, another fruitless endeavor, she would soon discover.

Adeline carried her lamp to her vanity and scowered its surface with her hands. In so doing, she tipped over fragile glass vials of perfume, essential oils and bottles of creams and powders as she moved along the surface of the table. She opened the delicate butterfly filigree jewelry box she had inherited from her mother, only to be disappointed, yet again.

With all of the commotion coming from Adeline's bedroom, it was not long before she heard a gentle rapping at her door. Adeline opened it to see young Brona looking tired and perplexed, 'Is everything alright, ma'am?' she questioned softly.

Adeline appeared adrift in her own thoughts, 'I've lost something. A locket. Perhaps you've seen it?'

'No, ma'am. I'm sorry. Let me help you look,' Brona offered.

'I wouldn't think of it, Brona. You're sick. You really should go back to bed,' Adeline disagreed.

Brona shook her head, 'I'm feeling much better, ma'am. I'll put on the lights and start the tea,' she insisted.

Taking a breath, Adeline conceded, 'Thank you'

Together, the pair combed through the remainder of Adeline's bedroom without success and from there they cast their search outward toward the rest of the third floor and stairwell.

While she searched, Adeline drifted into a bittersweet reminiscence of the day she and Thomas moved into their home together as husband and wife. Thomas was proud of having won Adeline's hand and altogether candid in his joy at the beginning of a new life with her by his side. Adeline could still envision the brightness and energy Thomas exuded as he lowered his hands from where they had been covering her eyes and unveiled the beautiful house he had chosen. Thomas paced from room to room, imagining aloud what each would become while Adeline followed, enchanted by his boyish exultation. She remembered the house, at first, seemed to radiate a sense of light and purity, of freshness and possibility; much the same as Thomas and Adeline felt in those first, perfect years.

She could not recall when it was that the Moore household began to feel aphotic and lifeless. She supposed that it must have happened in small, nearly undetectable increments throughout time as happiness and hope faded into misfortune and disenchantment.

The hunt for Adeline's locket continued on from the dark of night to the bright and crisp hours of early morning, and yet still their combined efforts went wholly unrewarded.

Young Brona, it seemed, had not been quite well, afterall. She assisted Adeline for as long as she possibly could, but was sent back to her quarters after yet another retching fit. Adeline brought her young maid a glass of water and a chilled cloth for her forehead before sending her to bed with strict orders to rest.

Mary, Adeline's out of home maid, was a stout, middle-aged mother of three from the East end of London. She arrived at the Moore household to begin her day's work not long after Brona was sent back to bed.

Mary was visibly surprised to see her employer awake at such an early hour and still wearing her nightgown to top it off, 'Everything alright, Mrs. Moore?' She questioned, momentarily drawing Adeline's focus away from her task of pulling the pillows from her richly colored chaise lounge, still hunting madly for her locket.

'Mary, I didn't hear you come in,' Adeline began, 'I've lost my locket, you see. I'm not at all certain where it might be. Have you seen it?'

'A locket, Mrs. Moore? I'm afraid I haven't seen a locket,' Mary admitted, a line of concern etched into her brow, 'I'll help you look, ma'am'

Adeline shook her head, 'No, that won't be necessary. I think I must take a break from looking'

Mary stepped over to Adeline, gently placed her hands on her arms and led her over to the tea table, 'You have a rest, Mrs. Moore, I'll set about breakfast,' she insisted.

Nodding distantly, Adeline seated herself and watched Mary make her way toward the kitchen.

For quite some time, Adeline sat where she was, gazing vacantly into her parlour, trying her very best to recall where she had left her locket. She had resigned herself to the likelihood that she had, in fact, been careless with it. There simply was no other explanation to consider. The very idea of having lost it felt as if Adeline were being forced to give Thomas up all over again. The locket had been her tether to him, and now it was gone too.

Adeline stood from her chair and meandered into the dining room, her hands cupped at her chest where her locket used to rest. She wandered over to the window and gazed out into the misty morning, trapped in a state of hollow melancholy.

Lost within herself, Adeline barely registered that the doorbell had sounded and that Mary was on her way to answer to the caller. She studied Adeline with conern as she strode by, seeing that her employer was clearly in no position to be entertaining guests.

Padding quickly down the steps into the foyer, Mary opened the heavy door to see Eli standing behind it.

'Good morning, Mr. Grant. I'm afraid Mrs. Moore won't be seeing visitors today. Bit under the weather, as it happens,' Mary informed matter of factly before motioning to close the door.

Mr. Grant, however, prevented himself from being shut out by placing his boot between the door and its frame, 'I'm afraid I must insist, Mary,' he asserted while pushing his way in, despite Mary's noble effort.

'Mr. Grant!' she uttered in disbelief and irritation.

Eli boldly strolled right past Mary and marched up the entrance steps, headed toward the parlour.

'Adeline? I must speak with you,' he said as his eyes searched the room. He soon discovered her standing near the window in the dining room, wearing only a thinly made, white lace nightgown. Her long, chestnut colored hair cascaded over her shoulders, unkempt but somehow elegant in its appearance. The manner in which the sun pooled in from the large window allowed Eli to make out the precise shape of her delicate figure under the gown. She had never looked more fragile to him than she did just then.

It was entirely improper.

'Good heavens, Adeline,' he stated in a scolding manner.

Adeline broke free of herself and turned around, 'Eli'

Mr. Grant made a show of turning around as to avoid seeing his dear friend in such private attire, 'I have important news, Adeline, but perhaps you should make yourself presentable before we speak on the matter'

Adeline glanced down, only then realizing the state she was in. She folded her arms around herself and moved quickly past Eli, 'My apologies. I shall return presently,' she stated formally before exiting the parlour, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

Mary stood in the entrance hall as Adeline scurried past her. She glared at Eli with her hands propped onto her waist, firm in her show of disapproval.

Mr. Grant removed his hat and seated himself at the table, 'Fetch some tea, would you, and perhaps some scones or crumpets'

Mary bit her tongue and turned bitterly back toward the kitchen.