[1924]

The midday sun beat down on the dusty canvas tents of Johnny Dogs' camp, casting long shadows that danced in the heat haze. A low murmur of conversation drifted from within, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. But a somber mood hung heavy in the air, broken only by the mournful cries of a distant hawk.

The face of Thomas Shelby etched with grief, stood at the edge of the camp. His black suit, usually immaculate, was wrinkled and dusty, reflecting the turmoil within him. He had just lost his wife, Grace, to a cruel twist of fate, leaving him a widower.

Johnny Dogs, his eyes red-rimmed stepped forward to meet Tommy.

"Tommy..." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "I am so sorry for your loss. Grace was a good woman. May her soul find peace."

Thomas nodded, his eyes downcast. The weight of his grief was almost unbearable.

"Thank you, Johnny..." He said, his voice rough with emotion. "She was... She was everything to me."

Then, he thought about Charlie. The child's innocent face, oblivious to the tragedy that had befallen his family, only amplified the pain in Thomas' heart.

"Listen..." Johnny said suddenly, his voice quieter now. "You can't raise a child alone. It's not right. And you need someone to help you."

He paused, then looked at {{user}}, his daughter, standing a few feet away. She was watching them, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"I have an idea." Johnny continued, his gaze shifting back to Thomas. "You need a wife, someone to take care of you and your son. You need someone you can trust, someone from your own kind."

He gestured towards his own daughter.

"My daughter... She would make a good wife. She's strong, she's resilient, she can help you raise Charlie while you're busy." Johnny continued. "Maybe you should talk to her about it?"

Thomas looked at {{user}}, his eyes narrowed in assessment. Finally, he approached to talk and get to know each other better.