Later that night, Madeleine sat in the chair by her mother's bed, holding her hand and not taking her eyes off of her. It had been six hours, and three different doctors could not seem to figure out what was wrong with her mother, but one had given her something to temporarily help the coughing and the blood.

He had assured them that she would be all right, but Madeleine couldn't shake the feeling that something felt awfully wrong. Her mother was much too pale and cold for somebody who would be all right with a little cough syrup. A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it. The last thing she wanted to do right now was break down, she needed to be strong for her mother's sake. So, she spoke to her of happy things. Mostly, she babbled on about stories of her father, memories of him that the two share.

She could tell her mother wanted to stay awake and indulge her daughter, but her eyes kept drifting closed. She was far too weak to keep herself engaged, and Madeleine noticed this. An all-consuming terror crept into her chest and squeezed the air out of her lungs as she tried to keep a smile on her face for her mother.

Benedict Bridgerton sat at his desk, staring at Madeleine's closed curtains across the yard. The house was dark, which seemed a bit odd to him. Madeleine and her mother were bright and lively women, their house was always lit and the curtains were always drawn open. He wondered if it could have had something to do with their argument. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock, his mother calling his name from outside the door. He walked over, opening the door and offering his mother a polite smile. She didn't return it, and instead walked into his room, turning to face him. She was fidgeting with her hands and seemed slightly panicked.

"Mother, what is it? Is everything okay? Is someone hurt?" Benedict walked over, watching her with concerned eyes. She sat down on the settee in his room and gestured for him to sit with her.

"Dearest, Madeleine's mother has fallen ill, and it is not looking good." She said gently, studying her son's face for a reaction. On the outside, he seemed concerned, at most. But on the inside, his body was screaming to do nothing other than sprint across the yard and comfort Madeleine. His pounding heart began to ache as he thought of Madeleine sitting alone in that dark house by her mother's side. A pit of guilt began eating at his heart as he replayed their last conversation in his head.

"Benedict?" His mother's eyebrows narrowed as she squeezed his hands to get his attention. He snapped his head back up to hers and nodded, his mother clearly worried about the lack of concern he appeared to be showing.

"Um.. Uh, do they know what it is? The illness?"

"Benedict, it does not matter what it is, that should not be your concern right now. You should go and be with your friend, she needs you." She urged him, gesturing out the window at the dark house. Benedict shook his head fervently, standing up and pacing a bit.

"No, mother, I should not do that. Madeleine does not exactly wish to see me right now." He bit his lip, resting his hands on his hips and looking down.

"Dearest, whatever squabble the two of you had is not important. You are her friend, and she needs a friend. You must know that." She stood, placing a hand on his cheek and making him meet her eyes. He sighed, moving away.

"You are not listening, mother. It was no mere squabble, she does not wish to ever speak to me again and my going over there would only serve to make things worse for her." He walked over to the door and held it open. "Thank you for letting me know."

Violet gave him an incredulous stare before standing up, shaking her head and walking out. Disappointment was practically written across her face. Benedict closed the door and leaned against it, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his head. He felt awful for disappointing his mother but he knew that he was the last thing Madeleine needed right now. The two had said absolutely horrid things to each other and he was certain it would hurt her more. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her and be there for her, but he would consider himself selfish to act on these desires if he knew it would only hurt her.

Madeleine sat on a bench outside of her mother's room across the yard, nervously fidgeting with her fingers as the doctor worked inside. Madeleine's mother had began to cough up blood again, a lot of blood, and Madeleine had called for the doctor immediately. Her foot bounced up and down and she bit on her fingernails as she waited. She couldn't help but remember herself in this exact same situation with Benedict when his mother was having Hyacinth. Only he was the one being terrorized, and all she could do was sit and be there with him. His mother ended up being perfectly fine, maybe hers would too. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to think of happy memories she had with her mother.

Three-year-old Madeleine burst into her parents' room, jumping up on the bed in between them and shaking them. Her mother awoke with a jolt and sat up quickly, her husband soon doing the same.

"Sweetheart, what is it?! Are you okay?" Her dad gently grabbed her, examining her for any wounds or injuries.

"I had- I had a dream that a scary monster comed and eated you guys." She whimpered. Her mother sighed softly and smiled at the girl, brushing her hair out of her face as she held her on her lap.

"Oh my darling, daddy and I are perfectly okay. And we will protect you from any monsters." She poked her nose, making the toddler giggle.

"No monster is getting past me, the ultimate tickle monster ." Her dad growled, making claw hands at her as the girl shrieked in laughter and attempted to climb behind her mother. She was too slow and the tickle monster got her, attacking her sides as she rolled around, howling in laughter. Her father stopped after a moment and kissed her nose, her giggles dying down. He sat her up and smiled at her.

"You feel better now, princess?" The toddler giggled and nodded, hugging him tightly. He gave her a big squeeze and pulled away, taking her hand.

"Now, if you ever need to make sure that Mommy and I are okay, here's what you do." He held her tiny hand in his, demonstrating how to use two fingers to find a pulse. Then he held her hand out for her to try it.

"Did I do it?" She watched him with wide, curious eyes. He smiled and nodded, kissing her forehead. "And that says Mommy and Daddy are okay?"

"That says Mommy and Daddy are okay."

It felt like ages before the doctor exited the room and Madeleine jumped up immediately, waiting for him to speak. The look on his face made her want to vomit.

"Miss Sinclair, I am terribly sorry."

Madeleine stared at him for a moment, and then began to rapidly shake her head, tears stinging in her eyes.

"No, no. Absolutely not, no! She was JUST fine!" She raised her voice, tears running down her cheeks. The doctor watched her with an apologetic look, unsure of what to say.

"We.. we went to the park just this morning. We walked together and she was laughing and we talked about everything under the sun and I held her hand and now she's just gone?!" She cried, gasping for air and barely able to get the words out. She could not breathe. "How? How can she be gone? SHE WAS JUST HERE." She shouted, sobbing as she rushed past the doctor into her mother's room. She refused to believe it was true.

She felt as though her heart had physically shattered inside of her chest and she was now being impaled with a million shards of glass. Her mother laid still in the bed, her frame frail and lifeless. Madeleine slowly walked over, hyperventilating as she took for her mother's hand and used two fingers to feel for a pulse. Her hand was cold to the touch and Madeleine was overcome with pain as she felt no pulse. She collapsed over her, sobbing as she held her mother.

"You were just here."