Chapter Text
The late afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the grounds of Arrow House as Nora stepped out of the car, her heart pounding with urgency. She had just returned from Ada’s, where she had been blindsided by the news of Finn’s exile from the family. Her mind reeled, trying to piece together how it had come to this. Finn—young, brash, foolish Finn—was now lost to them, abandoned like a stray dog. She couldn’t let it stand. Not without fighting for him.
Without bothering to remove her coat, Nora made her way into the house, her steps echoing sharply on the polished floors. Tommy would be in his study; he always was when he wanted to brood or plan or escape the chaos of the outside world. She didn’t knock, didn’t wait for an invitation. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Tommy was sitting behind his desk, his usual glass of whiskey untouched next to a lit cigarette smoldering in the ashtray. His head was bent over a ledger, but the moment the door opened, his eyes flicked up. His expression didn’t change as he saw her, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that told her he had been expecting some sort of confrontation.
“Tommy,” she started, her voice tight, trembling with restrained emotion. “How could you do this?”
He didn’t look up from the papers. “Do what?”
“You know what,” she snapped, stepping further into the room. “Finn. You cast him out. You threw him to the wolves. He’s our brother, Tommy!”
Tommy finally leaned back in his chair, exhaling smoke from his cigarette in a slow, deliberate motion. His eyes locked onto hers, cold and steady. “He’s not my brother anymore,” he said simply.
Eleonora froze, her chest tightening. “How can you even say that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” Tommy replied, his voice clipped. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood, walking around the desk until he was a few feet from her. “Finn betrayed us, Nora. Whether he meant to or not, his stupidity nearly cost us everything. This isn’t a fucking game. He got too close to the wrong person, and now we’ve paid the price for his mistakes.”
Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she stepped closer to him. “He didn’t know she was working for Callahan! He didn’t know what that girl was doing!”
Tommy's eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. "Naivety doesn't excuse betrayal. Intentions don't matter in this business, Nora. Only results do. And because of him, we could have lost everything."
Nora's throat tightened as tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to back down. She stepped closer to the desk, her voice lowering but losing none of its intensity. "Tommy, he's your brother. Our brother. He's Shelby blood, and you can't just abandon him."
Tommy slammed his hand on the desk, the sudden noise making her jump.
“You think this is easy for me?” he snapped, his voice rising for the first time. “You think I want to do this? If I could keep him close, protect him, I would. But I can't. Not anymore.” He stood up, looming over her now, his voice quieter but no less forceful.
“Callahan may be finished, but he's still trying to hurt us. He keeps being dangerous even despite everything we did to destroy him. And there are others, stronger than him, waiting for their chance. We can't afford weakness, Eleonora.”
She shook her head, tears now streaming freely down her cheeks. "But he's family. He's still a child, Tommy. You can't give up on him. Please.” Eleonora shouted, her voice cracking. “He’s young and foolish, but he’s not evil. You can’t hold him to the same standards as you or Arthur. He needs guidance, not punishment.”
Tommy’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as stepped even closer to her. “Guidance?” he said bitterly. “You think I haven’t tried? You think we haven’t all tried? How many chances does he get? How many more risks do we take before someone of us gets killed because of his mistakes? There are no second chances in this business. Not for him, not for me, not for anyone.”
Eleonora shook her head, unable to stop herself. “You can’t just abandon him like it was nothing!”
Tommy’s voice dropped, cold and quiet. “I’ve made my decision. It’s done.”
She took a shaky step back, her breath hitching. “How can you be so heartless? He’s still your blood, Tommy.”
“And so are you,” Tommy said firmly, his voice breaking through her tears. “I gave up on you, didn’t I?”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him in stunned silence.
“For two times,” he continued, his voice steady but full of an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “I let you walk away. I let you go because I thought it was the right thing to do. Because I thought I could live without you. You think this is about being heartless? You think I want to do this? If I can give up on the one thing in this world that matters the most to me, then yes, Nora, I can give up on Finn, too.”
His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, suffocating her. Eleonora staggered back, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob.
“Tommy-” she whispered, her voice trembling.
But he wasn’t done. “This isn’t about love, it’s about survival. Callahan is out of the picture for now, but his shadow still looms over us. And he is not the only one. Finn was a crack in the armor. I’ve sealed it. That’s the end of it.”
“You think this is strength, Tommy? You think this makes you invincible? All it does is make you alone.”
Tommy turned away from her, his shoulders stiff as he walked back to his desk. “Go to him if you need to. Say your goodbyes. But don’t come back to me asking for mercy. I won’t change my mind.”
She stood there, trembling, her heart breaking for Finn, for herself, and even for Tommy. He was a man drowning in his own choices, his own fears, and she didn’t know if she could save him.
When she finally left the study, her tears were still falling, but her resolve had hardened. Losing Finn was unbearable, and she had lost too much already.
- - -
The sitting room was calm, the soft crackle of the fireplace blending with the occasional coo of the baby. Eleonora sat perched on the edge of the sofa, her posture too straight to be comfortable. In her hands, she clutched a delicate china teacup, though the tea inside had long since cooled. Across from her, Lizzie lounged with effortless ease, her sharp eyes missing nothing as she sipped her own tea, the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at her lips.
Doris hovered near the fireplace, cradling baby Thomas in her arms and rocking him gently. She hummed a soothing tune, her quiet presence filling the room with a sense of calm that contrasted with Eleonora’s obvious tension.
“You’re quiet today,” Lizzie remarked, her voice casual but probing as she set her cup down on the table. “Not like you.”
Eleonora glanced up, startled, then forced a faint smile. “Just tired, I suppose. The little one doesn’t believe in regular sleep schedules.”
Lizzie chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Well, you’ll get used to it. Or you won’t. Either way, welcome to motherhood.”
Eleonora let out a polite laugh, but her eyes dropped to her hands, where her fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of her teacup. Lizzie watched her for a moment, her gaze narrowing slightly.
“Something’s on your mind,” Lizzie said finally, tilting her head. “Out with it.”
Eleonora hesitated, her grip tightening on the cup. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly, too quickly. “Just the usual worries.”
Lizzie raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, she picked up her tea again and took a leisurely sip, her posture as relaxed as ever. Doris, sensing the tension, turned her focus entirely on baby Thomas, her hum growing softer.
For several minutes, the room fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the faint clinking of porcelain as Lizzie set her cup down again. Eleonora’s thoughts churned in her head, a mix of doubt, fear, and a nagging desire for clarity. Finally, unable to bear the weight of her indecision, she took a deep breath and spoke.
“Lizzie,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “Can I ask you something?”
Lizzie’s gaze sharpened, though she kept her tone light. “Of course. Ask away.”
“It’s… it’s personal,” Eleonora added, glancing down at her lap as her cheeks flushed.
Lizzie let out a soft laugh. “Nora, I’m the last person to shy away from personal questions. You know you can talk with me.”
Still, Eleonora hesitated, her fingers trembling as they traced the edge of the teacup. Finally, she forced herself to meet Lizzie’s gaze. “It’s about Harry,” she said quietly. “He’s asked me to leave Birmingham. To go to London with him and the baby. He says it’s our chance to start over.”
Lizzie’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in her eyes—something that looked like understanding, or perhaps pity. “And you don’t know whether to go,” she said, more a statement than a question.
Eleonora shook her head. “What if it’s a mistake? What if I’m just being selfish, thinking about what I want instead of what’s best for Thomas? I need stability for him, Lizzie. I need safety. And if I leave, if I really do it... I won’t be able to come back, this time. There would be no space to regrets.”
Lizzie studied her for a long moment, then leaned forward, her voice quiet but firm. “Let me tell you something, Nora. I’ve spent my life tied to Tommy Shelby. Loving him, hating him, hoping he’d change. And do you know what I’ve learned? Men like Tommy don’t change. They take and they take, and they leave you with nothing. If Harry’s offering you something real, something away from all this—” she gestured vaguely around the room, encompassing the weight of Arrow House and everything it represented—“then maybe you should take it. Staying here… it’s not a life. Not for you. Not for your son.”
Eleonora blinked, Lizzie’s words sinking in like stones dropped into still water. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Mary stepping into the room. “Mrs. Neri, you have visitors. Miss Ada and Mrs. Linda Shelby are here.”
“Send them in,” Eleonora said automatically, though her mind still reeled from Lizzie’s blunt advice.
A moment later, Ada swept into the room with Karl bounding ahead of her, his youthful energy lighting up the space. Linda followed closely behind, her serene smile firmly in place.
“Hello, everyone,” Ada said warmly, kissing Eleonora on the cheek before turning to Lizzie. “We thought we’d stop by for a visit. Karl’s been dying to see the baby.”
Karl darted over to Doris, his eyes wide with curiosity as he peered at the infant. “He’s bigger now!” he whispered, reaching out hesitantly to touch the baby’s tiny hand.
“Be gentle.” Ada warned, smiling as she ruffled her son’s hair.
Linda stepped closer to the baby, her expression softening. “He’s growing quickly, isn’t he?”
Eleonora nodded, her smile returning as she glanced at her son. “He’s a handful, but he’s worth every moment.”
Linda hesitated, then clasped her hands in front of her. “Well, it looks like he’ll have a little playmate soon enough.”
Ada’s eyes widened. “Wait—are you saying—?”
Linda nodded, her composure breaking into a rare, radiant smile. “Yes. Arthur and I are expecting.”
The room erupted into congratulations. Lizzie stood to embrace Linda, while Eleonora and Ada took turns hugging her warmly.
“A new Shelby,” Ada said with a grin. “God help us all.”
Doris, still cradling Thomas, added her own congratulations with a gentle laugh. Meanwhile, Eleonora felt a strange mix of emotions. Amid the warmth and joy of family, Lizzie’s words echoed in her mind, reminding her that her future—and her son’s—depended on a decision only she could make.
- - -
The Shelby limited offices were mostly quiet as the closing time was now approaching. Tommy sat in his chair, his mind distant as he stared at a stack of documents that barely registered. His thoughts were elsewhere—on Finn’s betrayal, on Eleonora’s tear-streaked face after their fight.
Arthur stood near the desk, his broad shoulders outlined against the fading light coming from the big, dusty windows of the room. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and though he spoke in his usual rough tones, there was an unfamiliar hesitancy in his voice. He gave Tommy the daily report—shipments secured, collections made, bribes paid—but something was off.
“Everything’s in order,” Arthur said, though his pacing betrayed the tension that lingered beneath his words. “Nothin’ out of the ordinary, really.”
Tommy glanced up, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. “You’ve been here ten minutes and haven’t sat down. Either you’ve got somethin’ to say, or Linda’s got you hooked on that bloody church tea.”
Arthur let out a laugh, more nervous than genuine, scratching the back of his neck. “Aye, well… maybe there is somethin’. But it’s not business.”
Tommy’s attention sharpened, his hands leaving the desk as he leaned back in his chair. “Go on.”
Arthur hesitated, his eyes darting to the windows behind him as if looking for the right words out there. Finally, he exhaled heavily and turned back to Tommy. “Linda’s pregnant, Tom. We’re havin’ a baby.”
For a moment, Tommy didn’t react, the words floating in the air between them. His mind took a moment to grasp the significance. When it did, the corners of his mouth twitched into a rare, genuine smile.
“Arthur,” he said, standing up abruptly. His chair scraped against the floor as he moved around the desk to face his brother. “That’s… that’s good news.”
Arthur’s grin grew wider, his nervousness replaced by relief. “Aye, it is. Can’t bloody believe it myself. Me, a father.”
Tommy clasped his shoulder, pulling him into a brief, firm hug. “Congratulations, brother,” he said, his voice low but warm.
Arthur’s face lit up, his grin breaking into a laugh. “Thanks, Tom. I didn’t know how you’d take it, y’know. With everythin’ else goin’ on…”
Tommy stepped back, moving to the glass cabinet near the corner of the room. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of whisky, its amber liquid gleaming in the dim light. “Good news deserves a drink,” he said, setting two glasses on the desk and pouring them each a generous measure.
Arthur took his glass, holding it carefully as Tommy raised his own. “To you,” Tommy said, meeting his brother’s gaze. “And to the next Shelby.”
“To the next Shelby,” Arthur echoed, his voice rough with emotion.
They drank, the whisky burning its way down their throats in a familiar, comforting way. Tommy leaned against the desk, his glass balanced in his hand as he studied Arthur. There was a softness in Arthur’s eyes that Tommy wasn’t used to seeing, a vulnerability that made him pause.
Arthur swirled the whisky in his glass, staring into it as though it held the answers to his thoughts. “You know, Tom,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, “I never thought this’d happen for me. Didn’t think I’d live long enough, to tell you the truth.”
Tommy gave him a small, knowing smile. “You’ll manage. You’ve got Linda to keep you in line.”
Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “Aye, that’s true enough. She’s the one who’s made this possible. God knows I don’t deserve it.” He looked up, his expression suddenly serious. “But it makes you think, y’know? Havin’ a kid. Makes you look at things differently.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Differently how?”
Arthur hesitated, his fingers tightening around the glass. “Just… you can’t turn your back on family, Tom. No matter what. A father, he doesn’t walk away from his child.” He paused, letting the words settle between them. “Not if he’s got a choice.”
Tommy’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He took another drink instead, his mind working behind his impassive expression.
Arthur glanced at him, gauging his reaction. “Look, I’m not sayin’ anything, not really,” he added, his voice faltering. “Just… if you want to keep Nora and the little one close, I’d understand. That’s all I’m sayin’. You have my blessing.”
Tommy remained silent and while the room was starting to feel heavier, his gaze fixed on a distant point beyond Arthur.
Arthur sighed, finishing the last of his whisky. “Anyway,” he said, his voice gruff again as he set the glass down on the desk, “that’s all I’ve got. Just thought you should know.”
Tommy nodded, his expression distant but not hostile. “Thank you, Arthur.”
Arthur gave him a small, almost reluctant smile before turning to leave. As he reached the door, he hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. “You better be a good uncle, y’know,” he said, a hint of mischief returning to his voice.
Tommy allowed himself the faintest of smiles and Arthur, satisfied, and left the room.
- - -
The hotel room was modest but clean, its furniture worn but sturdy.
Eleonora sat stiffly in one of the armchairs, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her gaze flicked to Finn, who stood by the window, one hand gripping the edge of the frame as he looked out onto the bustling street below. He hadn’t spoken much since she arrived, and the silence between them felt heavy, like the room itself was holding its breath.
“I wish you’d at least told me where you were staying sooner,” Eleonora said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft but strained. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”
Finn turned to face her, his expression guarded. “I wasn’t alone,” he said, his tone light but tinged with bitterness. “I’ve had plenty of company—anger, shame, and regret. They’ve kept me busy.”
Eleonora flinched at his words but said nothing, her hands tightening in her lap. Across the room, Doris sat quietly on the sofa with the baby in her arms, rocking him gently. She kept her eyes on little Thomas, giving them their privacy, but Eleonora knew she was listening.
Finn sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his boyish features etched with a weariness that didn’t belong to someone his age. “I didn’t want you to come,” he admitted. “I’m trying to make peace with this, Nora. Seeing you… it just makes it harder.”
Eleonora stood, unable to sit still any longer. “And what about me, Finn? Do you think this is easy for me? Watching you walk away—knowing I can’t stop it?” Her voice cracked slightly, but she pressed on. “You’re my little brother. I used to change your nappies, for God’s sake. I used to stay up all night when you had nightmares.”
Finn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away. “Don’t, Nora. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
She stepped closer, her hazel eyes searching his face. “You don’t have to go. I could try to talk with Tommy again. We could—”
“No,” Finn interrupted, his voice firm. He finally met her gaze, his green eyes filled with a pain he was barely managing to hide. “This is how it has to be. Tommy made his choice, and maybe… maybe he was right. I screwed up, Nora. I let someone use me—use us—and people got hurt because of it. He’s not wrong to cut me loose.”
Eleonora shook her head, her throat tightening. “But you’re family. That should mean something.”
Finn’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “It means everything, which is why I’m leaving. I’m not gonna be the reason someone else gets hurt. Not again. Even you… they threw you out and it was all my fault.”
She took a shaky breath, glancing at Doris, who had stood up and handed her the baby. Eleonora cradled little Thomas against her chest, his warmth grounding her as she struggled to keep her emotions in check.
“He’ll miss you,” she said softly, looking down at the baby. “Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
Finn stepped closer, his features softening as he looked at the child. “He’s got you. That’s more than enough.” He hesitated before reaching out to touch the baby’s tiny hand. Thomas’s fingers curled instinctively around his, and Finn let out a shaky laugh. “He’s gonna be alright, Nora. You both are.”
She swallowed hard, her vision blurring with unshed tears. “And you? Are you going to be alright?”
Finn smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Australia’s far enough, I think. Far enough to start over.” He straightened, his tone turning lighter, almost teasing. “Maybe I’ll open a pub. Or a farm. What do you think? Can you picture me herding sheep?”
Despite herself, Eleonora let out a laugh, though it was tinged with sadness. “You? On a farm? You’d last a week before running back to the city.”
“Maybe,” Finn said with a grin. But the smile faded as he stepped back, his expression growing serious again. “I’ll write to you,” he promised. “I don’t know how often, but I’ll try.”
Eleonora nodded, clutching Thomas closer. “You’d better,” she whispered. “And maybe one day… you’ll come back.”
Finn didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes said enough. He didn’t believe he ever would.
When it was time to leave, Eleonora moved toward him, the baby still in her arms. She leaned forward, careful not to jostle Thomas, and wrapped her free arm around Finn’s shoulders. He returned the hug, holding her tightly, as though trying to memorize the feel of it.
“Be careful, okay?” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“You too,” Finn replied, his voice thick. “Birmingham is a viper’s nest. Remember that.” He glanced down at the baby before stepping back.
Eleonora nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying. Doris, sensing her struggle, stepped up behind her as they left the room. When they reached the hallway, Eleonora broke down, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Doris wrapped her arms around her from behind, holding her gently but firmly. “It’s alright, Nora,” she murmured. “Let it out. It’s alright.”
Eleonora clung to the baby, her tears falling onto his soft blanket as Doris held her, the two of them standing in the dim hallway, bound by shared sorrow and the faint hope that Finn might find a future far from the shadow of his family’s name.
- - -
The station was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came in the early hours of the morning. A faint mist clung to the air, curling around the iron beams of the platform and the few figures scattered across it. The sound of Eleonora’s heels clicking against the stone floor echoed faintly, as if marking time. She paused, her arms tightening instinctively around the small bundle nestled against her chest. Thomas stirred, his tiny fingers brushing her collarbone, and she looked down at him. The weight of her decision bore down on her, heavier than her suitcase, heavier than the walls she’d built to keep herself standing all these years.
Behind her, the car idled softly. Ada was the first to step out, her heels crunching against the gravel as she approached. There was a tension between them, an unspoken understanding that this moment was as final as it was fragile.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Ada asked, her voice steady but gentle, her dark eyes scanning Eleonora’s face.
Eleonora didn’t respond immediately. She looked toward the platform, her gaze searching the shadowy expanse for Harry. He wasn’t there yet. The train wasn’t there yet. Perhaps that was why her heart hadn’t entirely shattered—it still clung to the illusion of time, the hope of something to anchor her.
“I don’t know,” Eleonora admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t stay. Not like this.”
Ada stepped closer, placing a hand lightly on Eleonora’s arm. “Wherever you go, Nora, I hope you find what you’ve been looking for. Happiness, peace—whatever it is. You deserve it. And you deserve to stop running. Just… don’t forget who you are, wherever you end up.”
They embraced, a brief but firm hug that spoke volumes. When they pulled away, Ada wiped at her cheek, pretending it was from the cold.
Then it was Doris’s turn. She approached hesitantly, as if afraid to interrupt, but her usual confidence soon took over. She reached out to stroke Thomas’s head, her touch lingering for a moment before she looked up at Eleonora.
“I owe you everything,” Doris said, her voice trembling. “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me. And don’t you dare think for a second you’re abandoning me. Thanks to you, I’m not going back to the streets. I’m done with that life, one way or another.”
Eleonora bit her lip, her eyes glistening as Doris leaned in and kissed Thomas on the forehead. “You’ll take care of yourself, won’t you?” Eleonora asked, her voice trembling despite her efforts to keep it steady.
Doris nodded, brushing away a tear. “You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about me, Nora. And this little one—” She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the baby’s cheek one last time. “I’ll miss him, the little rascal.”
The two women embraced, clutching each other tightly, and for a moment Eleonora let herself lean into Doris’s strength. When they pulled apart, Eleonora inhaled sharply, steadying herself.
After what it felt like a lifetime, she slowly stepped away.
The suitcase in her hand felt impossibly heavy, though it held so little. Each step felt like wading through quicksand, her legs weighed down by invisible chains.
The platform stretched before her, sparsely populated by early travelers and station workers. She scanned the faces, her heart racing as she searched for Harry. He wasn’t there. Was he late? Had he changed his mind?
Doubt crept in, coiling tightly around her chest. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Ada’s through the car window. Ada gave her a small nod, her expression unreadable. Doris was leaning against the car, arms crossed, watching with an almost maternal protectiveness.
Eleonora’s grip on her suitcase tightened. Her mind was a cacophony of thoughts—Harry’s promises, Ada’s words, Doris’s faith in her. And then there was Tommy. Always Tommy. The man she had loved, the man who had hurt her, and yet the man she could never seem to leave behind.
Her chest tightened as his image came unbidden, the piercing blue eyes, the way he had looked at her during their last argument. His words echoed in her mind: If I could give up the thing I care about most, then I can give up Finn. She had tried to ignore the weight of those words, tried to dismiss the truth buried in them. But now, standing on the precipice of a new life, she couldn’t shake the pain of it.
“God, what am I doing?” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking.
Thomas stirred in her arms, his small face turning toward her, and she looked down at him. His blue eyes, so much like his, seemed to anchor her in the present. This was why she was doing it—for him. For a chance at something better.
The announcement of an incoming train echoed through the station, and Eleonora’s heart jumped. Her grip on her suitcase faltered for a moment, her hand trembling.
Her gaze darted toward the platform entrance, still searching for Harry. And suddenly, in the distance, she saw a figure moving awkwardly but unmistakably—it could only be him. Harry was there. He had truly come to take her away from it all, once and for all.
Her breath hitched as she glanced back at the car one last time. Ada was still watching her, her expression calm, while Doris gave her a faint, encouraging smile.
Eleonora turned back toward the platform, her feet frozen in place. The train screeched to a halt, its doors hissing open. The few passengers waiting began to board, their movements brisk and purposeful.
And Eleonora stood there, rooted to the ground, her heart pounding in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to move—to step forward, to step back, to do something . But she couldn’t.
She looked down at Thomas again, his tiny face peaceful and unaware of the turmoil inside her.
“Come on, Nora,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “You know it’s the right thing.”