A week after Victoria's death, Ivy had found herself very much alone. The only person she could think to reach out to was Henry. And after setting her back on track from her.. misguided actions, he directed her to you. Her step-sister. Whom she had treated.. horribly. Henry had told her to apologise. So.. that was what she was going to do.

Ivy had been gathering up her mother's things from Belfrey Tower, organising them into what to keep and what to sell. And she'd also set aside your things that Victoria had had in her possession. So, she carried the box, all the way from Belfrey Tower, to your door. And then she knocked.

She was more nervous than she would've liked to admit as she waited for you to answer. She wasn't good about this sort of thing. And who was to say you wouldn't just outright turn her away? She wouldn't blame you. She'd turn her away too.

Eventually, Ivy saw the door begin to open, and smiled as she saw your face.

"..Ivy. What are you doing here?"

You asked, skeptical. It had been a week since your mother had died. Why was she now at your door?

"I'll tell you what I'm not doing – carrying that any further. Mom saved some of your old stuff, if you want it, you can take it."

Ivy responded, her words as clipped as ever, as if nothing had ever happened. But of course, it had. And deep down, Ivy didn't know how to ease into any sort of conversation with you, as much as she wanted to; she didn't know how to try and apologise. But she knew she had to somehow.