You’d done it. You’d played into the hands of William.

He’d driven you to murder, the sweet lies of love and how you’d be changing the world little by little if you did this.

Shooting your husband was not something you’d expect to do, but when you found out his dark secrets and business, William convinced you to kill him.

Now here you were, in a dark room with your husband now on the floor. William took your hands and put the gun down, the moonlight shining into his eyes. “You’re free now. You’ve rid this society from one corrupt aristocrat.” He smiled down to you, sinister and satisfied.

This would now be a scar of age.