TO RECAP THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS:
1. Clara unintentionally burned down the sweetshop, overdosed and is now going through somewhat of a recovery/ is suffering through withdrawals.
2. Penny got married and Tommy knows that Clara is a lesbian.
3. Will and Clara went to the Shelby Orphanage opening and ran into a businessman looking to speak to Clara.
4. In the last chapter, Clara got grazed by a bullet when Charles was taken!

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MORNING HAD SET OVER SMALL HEATH and Clara's dependable headache had opted to remain its incessant march across her mind. She had risen with the sun, despite her body's desperate urges to remain in bed. She had briskly dressed herself and had forced a bowl of dry cereal into her stomach to soothe her growing hunger. The girl dumped her empty bowl into the sink, she'd decided to deal with that later

Clara yawned in exhaustion as her hands flipped through a few letters addressed to her that had been placed on the kitchen counter by Finn presumably. Bills, business, bills, more business. Her fingers faltered over one where each letter of her name swirled in a dainty and familiar scrawl. Her heart fell into the abyss of her full stomach as she traced the envelope with her eyes. She carefully ripped it open and untucked the letter from inside. As the inked words flittered across her mind, she found her fingers letting the letter fall as she read.

Her hand ran over the span of her face as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut in contemplation. The words echoed around her mind and in a slump of uncertainty, she leaned against the countertop. Her mind raged in a fierce battle of indecision. The letter was Pandora's box, awaiting to be discovered and divulged, unleashing horrors unknown to man. The girl feared the letter, she shouldn't have but she did. And the fear crippled her to her gut. Yet even in Pandora's box, hope could be found and this hope was dangerous— tantalising and fierce, waiting for someone to fall into its clutches.

She should be preoccupied with the turmoil ongoing in her family but she couldn't focus. The letter sparked chaos in her not-so-organised mind, only adding fire to the fire. A helpless endeavour. It urged her mind to explore every possibility no matter the risk.

Clara picked the letter up and folded it as she let her eyes glance at the clock. Fuck it, she thought as she shoved the letter into her pants pocket and grabbed her coat from the coat rack. She faltered once more by the front door before she disappeared out onto the streets of Small Heath. She kept her head low while she strode through the streets of Small Heath. No one paid any attention to her as her boots began to get coated by the dirt of the roads. She was grateful for the lack of attention, she was certain she looked a mess and couldn't be bothered dealing with any stares that lingered too long. She kept her hands in her pocket and her eyes cast downwards, the clouds in the sky too bright for her head and eyes to comprehend without splitting pain.

Clara looked around cautiously before she slowly climbed down the steps leading to the canal side. Droplets of rain fell atop the crown of her head as she descended. Her shoulders were slumped as her body trembled in both a response to the cold air and in trepidation for what was to come.

The steps seemed all too familiar, the darkened grey canal side had become a ghost of a memory scrubbed from her mind. She pulled her grey coat tighter around her torso to fend off the wind that bit at her goose-bumped flesh. As Clara turned to face the long canal walk, she spotted the writer of the letter pacing back and forth in the same two meters. The Shelby girl took a deep breath in as she rolled her shoulders back in anticipation.

"Where have you been?"

Clara jolted backwards at the voice as she was tackled in a cold embrace, her face being pressed into the crook of a pale neck. The Shelby girl was stiff in the hug, her hands awkwardly patting the other's back.

"At home, Penny..." Clara sighed as she pulled away, her trembling hand pushing its way through her locks. "Why am I here?"

The blonde detached herself from Clara and hurt splattered across her face. Penny's crestfallen eyes scoured the other girl's face in disbelief

"I sent you the letter a week ago with the date and time," Penny mumbled as she folded her arms over her chest. "I was afraid you didn't get it."

"What? Couldn't handle the honeymoon?" Clara scoffed and shook her head as she laughed. Tiredness suddenly swept over the girl like waves dragging her out to sea. "I was busy, Penny, not that that's any concern of yours. Now, why am I here?" The blonde girl stiffened at the harshness that cemented Clara's words together, she hadn't seen this side of Clara, the side that really couldn't care less about anything in the world.

"I–" Penny started once more, "I saw you at the church that day..."

"Did you now?" The Shelby girl muttered as she took a cigarette from her jacket pocket and stuck it into her mouth. She patted her sides down for the golden lighter, one that she couldn't find. With a frustrated huff, she pulled out a box of matches from her pocket. What could she say? She was prepared. "I saw you too. Funny how eyes work, isn't it?"

Penny blinked slowly as the girl struck the match and lit her cigarette before tossing it straight into the canal. Clara watched the blonde with exhausted eyes as the smoke furled in the air around her and flooded her senses with as much vitality as she could muster. Penny suddenly darted forward and plucked the lit cigarette out of her hands before stamping on it.

"Wh–"

Before the Shelby girl could voice her displeasure, Penny cupped her face and smashed her lips onto Clara's. The blonde hurriedly pushed her against the wall. Clara's vision grew hazy as her head hit the brick behind her. Penny was still feverishly kissing her as Clara remained motionless, her head now throbbing in an agonising pulse. Her shaky hand touched the brick wall behind her and suddenly the world seemed a lot smaller, and suddenly Penny wasn't Penny instead she was a drunken man screaming and slamming the then younger Shelby girl against the wall as she cried and begged for reprieve. Clara let out a startled gasp as she broke out of the kiss.

Hands around her throat, broken bottles, and blood everywhere.

Clara shoved Penny away from her as an onslaught of terror grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her into the deep depths of her memories. She tuned out the blonde's cries of protest as she tried to focus on her unsteady breathing and the pounding in her skull. She hadn't thought of that fateful night in the canal in so long. She hadn't dwelled on it. She'd moved on... but why had horror gripped her heart and squeezed until it was bled dry?

Clara coughed and with each chesty wheeze blinding pains were shot up through her spine and into her head.  Penny's incessant voice was a monotonous hum in the back of her mind as Clara concentrated on her panic as it swirled like the most ruthless blizzard she'd never experienced. Her hand splayed across the base of her neck as she struggled to inhale. The girl hunched over into herself, her other hand gripping her shirt front. She could feel like man's slimy, dead hands slither up from the canal, his fingers grasping at her ankles in a cruel attempt to pull her beneath tainted waters

"Clara, you're scaring me," Penny pleaded, her hands out in protection as she cautiously approached the girl. The blonde girl didn't quite understand what had elicited this reaction, but it surely wasn't going to stop her from doing what she'd come there to do.

"Stay there," the Shelby girl gritted whilst her widened eyes blurred Penny's close figure. "Just fuckin' stay there." It had been more of a plead than an order, yet the blonde hadn't obliged and when she placed a hand on Clara's shoulder.

Hands around her throat, broken bottles, and blood everywhere.

The Shelby girl shoved her back so hard that Penny stumbled and almost tripped over her own feet. She glared daggers at Clara, her lip curling in utter shock as the other girl remained hunched. Clara gritted her teeth and gripped either side of her head as a splitting pain rippled through her skull.

It was then that something in Clara's mind snapped and she saw with greatest clarity the look of horror and anger across Penny's face.

"I said to fuckin' stay there," Clara heaved through a broken voice, "and you didn't listen! You never listen!" She turned to face Penny, her body straightening up as much as her muscles allowed.

"I listen!" Penny jumped to defend herself, her arms crossing over her brand new, unmarked dress, one fitting for a Lady. "I always listen."

"Why am I here?!" Clara implored, strands of her hair now dangling in front of her face as her hands ran through her tresses. "You're married."

"And before, I was engaged," Penny gritted, her face pulled into a look of disgust. "What's so different now?" Clara let out a loud laugh, as she turned her back on the Penny girl once more.

"Look, it was a mistake, I was using you as a distraction," Clara coldly stated, her eyes lowered as she looked at her boots against the cobblestones. She was getting sick of people being around her. She was sick of being hurt, sick of her heart throbbing and so goddamned sick of Penny Margrave. With malice, she turned and sneered at the girl. "I wanted to prove that I could have you even when you were somebody else's. But now, it's high time we cut our fuckin' losses."

"Cut our losses?!" Penny growled, almost rabidly, "You don't get to talk about losses, not after all you've done." Clara grimaced but now found herself lost in the conversation, her chest was exploding in a panic now shrouded with confusion. Penny's gaze set out to burn Clara's skin and brand her with fear, a fear Clara couldn't feel.

"I've done a lot, Angel," the girl remarked, she tried to sound as casual as humanly possible. She used the nickname mockingly, looking to hurt the newly dubbed Margrave girl just as much as she'd hurt Clara. "You'll have to be specific."

"I know you did it,"

"What about the word 'specific' don't you get-?"

"I know you were the one who burned down the sweetshop," Penny spat as tears welled in her eyes. Clara's eyes widened by only a fraction as the world came crashing down onto her shoulders. "You burned down my home, Clara, who the fuck does that?!"

The Shelby girl faltered. She felt as if her body had been doused with ice water, sending her body into shock as it permeated her trembling skin. Fear had always imposed a funny feeling, one that clawed at her soul and pulled at the very essence of her being. It tore the thoughts from her mind and funnelled them down and down into the deepest most lamentable abysses where nothing could prosper or persevere.

"I–I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Stop lying! I saw you and I found your stupid golden lighter in the wreck!"

"I–"

"You what, huh? You 'didn't mean to', you 'didn't want to', you 'didn't know what you were doing'," Penny sneered mockingly as her face screwed up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and brimmed with tears that would never fall. "I'm so sick of you ruining my life."

"Ruining your life?" Clara seethed. Grief and Anger were sisters, Clara found. They skipped hand in hand and held one another during the fiercest battles. One could simply not perform without the other, they worked in tandem, shrouding one another in its comfort. "I'm done here, whatever reason you called me here for, fuck you and fuck that."

"You don't get to walk away, Shelby!" Penny yelled, as she quickly stormed after Clara. "You've taken so much from me! And you keep getting away with it!"

"Yeah, well...I'm paying the consequences, alright?!" Clara snapped in return, as she continued walking. "I'm paying the bloody consequences and right now you need to turn around, Angel, and go back to your precious fucking husband and stop fucking sending me letters."

"Oh, running away, classic Clara, very mature," Penny scoffed as she stopped walking. Malice filled her voice like the sweetest of alcohols from a golden goblet as it slurred her voice and allowed her to speak her deepest desires freely. "You always called me an Angel, but if I am a so-called angel then you are the goddamn devil Clara Shelby, a sinner in its worst form."

Clara didn't say anything in response as she lowered her head and continued to walk with her back to Penny. Her head was pounding from the knowledge that the Margrave girl was well aware that Clara had set the sweetshop alight. The girl shook in anger at the blonde's words, in her eyes, Penny wasn't that girl Clara had once thought to have loved. Penny was now simply someone lost to time, a foe amongst her ranks. Clara hated it. She felt like she was losing a war she hadn't even realised she'd been fighting. She shouldn't have come. She should've let bygones be bygones.

But curiosity killed the cat, and whilst satisfaction could bring it back, it certainly couldn't sustain it.

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TWO DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE SHE'D ENCOUNTERED PENNY down by the canal, and throughout that period, she'd spent it drinking whatever she could get her hands on. She'd ransacked the entire home, tearing up floorboards, throwing vases, and ripping open pillows in search of any snow she might've hidden away and forgotten about. She'd spent the evening sat in the kitchen of number six Watery Lane, her reddened eyes on the clock as her shaky hands threw back another glass.

Around six that morning, she'd received a call from Ada, informing her that Charlie had been returned home. Clara hadn't said anything, she merely hung up and threw the phone halfway across the kitchen. She had become angry, angrier than she'd ever been. She suspected it was a malignant anger, one that had been brewing for far too long without any output. She'd destroyed the kitchen before she knew it, plates, cups, bowls, and mugs all smashed and shattered on the wooden flooring.

"Ms Shelby?"

Clara snapped her head towards the driver in the front of the car. She'd received a hand-delivered note from the man that morning. Imagine her displeasure when she realised that the note had been a letter from Thomas requesting her presence at Arrow House. A very annoyed, not to mention hungover, Clara had laughed obnoxiously at the sight of it and shoved the letter back into the hands of the innocent driver. She had been quick to slam the door in the man's face she retreat into her home.

After waiting twenty minutes for the man to leave she let out a frustrated groan. She knew there was no way she could avoid the lingering man and his car, Clara had promptly opened a window and yelled down to him that he could wait another twenty minutes at least while she got dressed.

"Yes, Nigel?" Clara sighed heartily, her eyes remained on the outside world as they drove amongst the fields of pure emerald bliss. Clara longed to be out there, she longed to ride Cannon, a task she hadn't partaken in, in quite a while.

"We're five minutes out," Nigel informed her as he glanced back at the Shelby girl. Clara didn't respond, she remained her steady stream of thoughts as her mind focused on the beauty of the outside world. It was a clear day, only a few clouds dared cross the threshold of the sun's rays. The girl's arms were wound around her middle, her head against the car window. There was a knitting feeling in the base of her stomach, one that stored nausea and flares of doubt. She shut her eyes and leaned further back into her seat for the remainder of the journey until the car finally stopped.

Clara muttered a quick thanks to Nigel before she got out of the car steadily. The house stood firm and tall in front of her as she lingered for a second or two. The haunted house was one she took no pleasure in entering. She could feel the lies built into the foundation and the pain that plastered the walls. She hesitated no more than a few seconds before she entered the house. It seemed to be colder inside of the house compared to the outside world, it felt like a certain warning sign with flashing lights that screamed 'run away and never come back'.

"Miss Shelby, Mr Shelby is waiting in his study. He said to send you in."

The girl turned to face Francis who stood precariously across from the girl. Clara was getting rather sick of all the 'Ms. Shelby' she was hearing that morning. It made her feel old, rather than respected. The girl straightened her back and cleared her throat as she nodded silently.

"Would you like tea?" The stern woman questioned, folding her hands in front of her.

"Maybe later, Francis," the girl answered. Clara wasted no more time hovering as she swivelled on her heel and walked deeper into the hearth of the house, only getting colder and colder. Her boots clattered against the wooden flooring as she strode through the halls to reach her brother's office.

Stopping outside the door, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath in. She could feel her anger from the night before returning at the mere knowledge that Thomas Shelby was only hidden behind one door. Letting out her breath of air, she allowed her knuckles to rap loudly on the wood. Clara huffed impatiently before she heard a quick 'come in' echo from inside.

The girl opened the door carefully and entered. She saw her brother standing by the large windows that overlooked the grounds. He had his back to her, his arms folded as Clara stood at the back of the room. The room had been organised for a family meeting. There were roughly fifteen or so chairs organised around Tommy's desk in two lines. The girl scrunched her eyebrows together and wove in and out of them until she was standing directly in front of her brother.

"Take a seat, Clara," Tommy sighed heavily as he turned slightly and gestured towards one of the many chairs.

"Why am I here, Thomas?" Clara questioned as she remained standing. She had no patience for her older brother, not today, probably not the day after either or any day in the future if she were to be completely honest. Tommy finally turned fully to face his sister. His eyes looked far away, their usual stormy blue a mere trickle of rain.

"I brought you here to apologise," He began. The man remained very still as he spoke, so still that Clara glanced around to check that some narrator wasn't hidden away and forcing Tommy to lip-sync these words. "I accused you of doing something you wouldn't. I wrongly blamed you and I apologise for that."

Clara tilted her head at his words. "Noted," she squinted, her eyes boring into Tommy's demeanour. He looked at her, almost studying her as if she would disappear in a puff of smoke. "If you're looking for an 'apology accepted', Thomas, you're not going to get one. So, I suggest that you tell me why I'm really here, and let's not tread around any more bullshit."

"You never let anything past you do you?" Tommy commented monotonously as he sat in his chair. Clara was silent as she watched her brother lean his hands against his desk "You never did."

"Where's everyone else?" Clara asked, ignoring his previous statements. Tommy shook his head ever so slightly and looked around the room.

"They're coming later...for a family meeting," he sighed lowly, his eyes still on the room around Clara. The girl squinted her eyes at her older brother once more.

"And this couldn't have waited until then?" She questioned whilst her arms folded. The pit in her stomach throbbed and pulsed as it sent nausea ricocheting through her nerves. "I have better things to do with my life than being here, Thomas."

Tommy looked to the ceiling. Guilt. That was all Clara could pluck from his odd behaviour. This wasn't regular guilt though, she could tell. Guilt manifested in so many ways and she'd witnessed so many versions of it. This guilt, the one she saw written all over Tommy's face was unavoidable, deep-rooted and so plainly there.

"There is a warrant out for the arrest of John, Arthur, Michael and Polly," Tommy spoke slowly and clearly. Clara's eyes widened in horror, whilst her heart sped up.

"What?" She muttered, her eyes on Tommy as he looked down at his desk. "What the fuck!"

"John and Arthur for Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosions. Michael...for the murder of Hughes. Polly... for the murder of Chief Inspector Chester Campbell." Tommy stated as Clara's mouth fell in shock.

"Tommy, what..?" She let out a deep laboured breath before she straightened up. Clara pushed aside her emotions and caged them in the depths of her mind. She wasn't a baby. She could handle business and this was business...but this was also family.

"The people we betrayed last night,"

"We?!" Clara exclaimed in a fiery display of rage. Guess being emotionless was overrated. "No 'we' here Tommy, only you. It's always fucking you!"

"There's a warrant out for you...arson for the Crawford Sweetshop and attempted murder for the family inside at the time," Tommy paused and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "The evidence is stacked...they're coming for you too."

And boom.

The last bomb of the day had exploded, hitting home and demolishing everything in its path. Clara was silent as Tommy spoke. Her eyes had fallen to the floor, her head hung as her lips trembled. Her mind sunk away from her into nothingness. She couldn't feel, couldn't think, Tommy's voice had become a buzz.

"Clara, Clara girl, listen," Tommy ordered, his voice raised as he rounded his desk. "I've cut a deal. It's all taken care of. You won't serve time..."

Clara shook her head in disbelief. Her older brother had stuck a knife between her shoulder blades and watched her drain away. He betrayed her. He was going to betray everyone. She shook in anger as tears pooled in her eyes. Her fists on either side of her body threatened to punch the man, her nails digging deep into the flesh of her palms.

"Why am I here?" She gritted eventually. Her eyes darted towards Tommy's as she raised her voice. Something inside of her snapped hard and fast. "TELL ME WHY I AM FUCKING HERE, THOMAS SHELBY!"

"You're going somewhere, somewhere away from here," Tommy replied calmly and Clara hated him for it. "It was the only alternative they would accept."

There was a knock on the study door. Clara let out a strangled few breaths in anticipation as Francis poked her head around the door. Tommy lowered his head at the sight and that's when Clara knew she was utterly fucked.

"There are people here to see you, Mr Shelby," Francis informed as her eyes glanced carefully between the two siblings. Clara looked to her older brother pleadingly, the blue of her eyes shattering and falling down her cheeks in perfect drops.

"Send them in, Francis." Tommy nodded briefly. He hadn't even given his words a second thought.

"Tommy, you can't!" Clara cried out as she lunged forward, her hands pounding against his chest. "I won't go!"

"You have to," Tommy spoke slowly, almost softly, his hands grabbed her wrists. "Don't fight it, it'll only be worse, go with them, Clara, there are worse things you could be facing." The girl pushed him away and broke out of his grip as she made a dart towards the door, it opened and three men entered. Clara staggered backwards as she took in their sudden appearance.

Leading the pack, Lewis Earle stood in his neat attire, his bowler hat firmly on his head. The girl's heart dropped as she pieced together why he had tried to talk to her at the Orphanage opening.

"Thomas...what's Saint Jude's?" she breathed out through a hiss, her eyes still on the approaching men as she backed away slowly. She was met with silence from her brother. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!"

"An organisation for the rehabilitation of troubled youth," Tommy uttered as Clara laughed haughtily. "They've agreed to take you...rehabilitate you."

"I can't fucking believe you!" Clara whipped around to face her brother, her back towards the men. "After everything, everything, you're sending me away?!"

"It's for your own good," Tommy shook his head, his eyes on the ground. Clara laughed once more and spat at him. She felt her heart being wrenched out of her chest and tossed into the flames of disaster.

"Fuck you!" She seethed. From then it all seemed to happen at once. Two men grabbed her underneath the arms and began to pull her in the direction of the door.

"Go willingly, Clara," Tommy said briefly, yet his words didn't reach his eyes, it looked like he was mourning. The girl began to fight the grip the men had on her. "It'll be better if you go willingly."

"FUCK YOU, THOMAS SHELBY!" Clara bellowed as she attempted to pull herself out of the men's grasp. "GET OFF OF ME! LET GO!" She struggled in their tight and unmoving hold, her legs kicking up and out whilst she wiggled like a fish out of water. "YOU ARE DEAD TO ME, THOMAS, YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE DEAD TO ME!"

Tommy kept his jaw locked as his eyes followed his enraged and floundering sister as she screamed and kicked whatever she could. His sorrowful eyes were shielded by a wall of cold, his weaknesses being hidden in the foundation of it all. Lewis Earle cleared his throat as the girl's screams continued to echo through the house as she was dragged out into the halls.

"She'll be safe in our care, Mr Shelby," Lewis Earle reassured. Tommy sighed and lowered his head ever so slightly as he rounded his desk and sat in his chair. His hands found themselves atop his desk to stable himself. This had been a necessity, he repeated to himself and with a shallow breath, he looked up to face Lewis Earle.

"Get out," Tommy muttered and without another word, the other man departed the office and shut the door behind them. Clara's faint blood-curdling screams shone through every crack of the house, they were unavoidable.

One down.

One Shelby out of the four he had to deliver.

Clara pulled and pushed her body in a variety of ways as she tried to outmanoeuvre the men holding her. Her mouth was open, still spewing screeches and profanities. She wanted the world to hear her. She wanted everyone to know that Thomas Shelby was a ghost in a man's body, a figment of pretence and evil.

She was sent tumbling to the floor as the two men shoved the girl carelessly into the back of a dark van. She ignored the throbbing in her head as she held it with one hand and leapt to her feet. The doors shut, locking her in darkness, the only light being a small rectangular gap covered by metal bars. Her fists pounded against the doors relentlessly, her screams shallowly turning to frustrated sobs.

Clara screamed, it was a harrowing noise— not one of a human. It was the noise of an animal, of life itself, releasing its terror and its distress into the uncaring air that surrounded Arrow house. It was a noise that served no purpose but to exhibit pain in all its varieties. It was a destroying scream, one that no one seemed to hear.

It also seemed to be a lone scream, one that would echo the screams of the broken Shelby family as they would receive their similar fates that evening.

At least together, they would scream in unison and together they would fight it. They wouldn't have to tackle it alone.

Clara only wished it hadn't been the same for her.

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HEY...how's everyone doing?!

It's been a while since I've published a chapter (almost two months I believe) and I'm so very sorry, between exams and school in general I just haven't had to willpower to write!

ANYWAYS, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF ACT THREE! Who's excited for act four <333 (hint: it's me, I'm very excited!!)

I LOVE YOU ALL AND ENJOY YOUR SOMETIMES WEEKLY MEMES!