Chapter Text
On a normal day, after washing up once Sneed had relieved her for the evening, she would have likely left already and gone home. But today has been less than normal, and she cannot leave yet, not without speaking to her rather concerning fiancé first.
He has been a bit off since she arrived this morning, almost snappy, distracted, ignoring her silent concern, and stopping all her attempts to find out what is wrong. Only promising her that they will discuss it later.
After checking the wards and his office, she eventually finds him sitting at the edge of the bed in his old room, staring at a large grey hatbox that is open on the normally empty table.
This must be about Fagin, then. He has taken to hiding up here when he is thinking of him.
When he notices her, his face instantly relaxes, before ushering her inside.
"What is all this?" she asks, closing the door behind her.
Her curiosity makes her reach into the box. It is full of folded paper.
"Aputi found them in Fagin's things yesterday," he says as she pulls one out.
She knows what is in her hand even before she turns it over, seeing Jack's name in her own handwriting just makes it true.
Pulling out another, it is the same, another one of her letters. Both of them are still unopened.
This does explain his attitude today.
But it doesn't make sense. She was certain that Fagin had destroyed her letters, and clearly, Jack must have thought the same.
Looking up at him, she sees the anger and the pain in him that he has been keeping in all day. This betrayal of Fagin's has always stung particularly harshly.
"Why would he keep them?" she wonders.
A hard look takes over Jack's face before a sadness fills his eyes. "I don't know for certain, but 167 letters is plenty of blackmail if he ever felt he needed it," he admits regretfully.
So he counted them. 167, had it really been that many? Six months, that is about right. "As soon as Fanny was allowed to stay with me alone, that is when this started. She wrote out the first dozen or so for me while I couldn't," she tells him, dropping one of the letters back into the box.
There is just enough room beside him for her. He wraps an arm around her waist, welcoming her into his side as soon as she sits down.
"He didn't even read them?" she wonders, confused. How could letters be useful blackmail if he didn't even know what was written in them?
Gentle lips find her cheek, just for a moment, before he says, "Some of them are open."
That's interesting, which ones are open? Did Fagin know about her plan or the laundress?
"Have you managed any of them?" she asks instead, her thoughts returning to him beside her.
With him shaking his head at the question, she has one choice. She is instantly breaking the seal and unfolding the letter in her hand.
He should already know every word of each letter. So they'll begin with this one.