From The Journals of Katherine Plumber

August 11th, 1900

"Jack! No! Please, God, no!"

"Katherine!" Edith shouted as I stared out the window, across the street to the park.

I jumped, quickly snapping my neck around to face her with my tear stained face. Edith sighed, walking over and sitting in the bay window of my new house beside me, "Katie, you have 2 weeks till the wedding,... I know this is seeming hard, but... You need home, Jack or no Jack. We've already pushed back the wedding by a week, people are to talk and-"

"You think I care about people talking?" I asked, "Edith, my future husband is to be killed after our wedding. Murdered for something he has never done! You insist I need a home, one that Jack provided for me so people won't talk. I'm not scared of people talking! I'm scared of losing the only man I ever loved! Father's money could only buy Jack 2 weeks in prison and 1 hour to marry me before being sent to death row in some grand scheme just so I wouldn't create any more drama for our family. It couldn't even buy him a fair trial!"

Edith sighed, "Katherine, you don't get how hard this is for everyone involved. I hate seeing you like this. I hate seeing Jack have to go through this for something we know he hasn't done. I hate seeing the fellas lose their brother and hope!" She cried.

"Edith, maybe you should just go home." I said, standing and walking to the back door that was opened so I could feel the warm air hit my face as I looked into the yard.

"And leave you here?" Edith asked.

"This is my home in 2 weeks. A place to spend the rest of my life, alone. It will be a week tomorrow since they took him,... Maybe... Maybe I should... g-get used to it." I muttered.

"Katherine-"

"Edith, leave. Please, I beg you."

"Of course, sister." She nodded, "I will see you Friday."

I merely nodded, still not facing her before hearing her footsteps go into the hall, followed by the door closing. I stared out the back door some more before drying my tears and walking back inside. After closing the door, I went upstairs. This is the only thing Jack has left me with; An empty house to fill with the family we will never have. Why? Because he will die. My husband... My husband will die! And why!? All because of some stupid judge who decided that he shouldn't get a trial because of his history.

His history of escaping the refuge saved his life! Yes, stealing was wrong, but it saved a lot of the fella's lives. Jack is a good person! He wouldn't kill anyone! Ever! He doesn't deserve what is coming to him! Nobody deserves such a gruesome death, especially if he is innocent and nobody will give him the time of day to even try to save him.

I made my way into our office. You see, 3 days ago, everything was fine. Yes, Jack was accused of murder 3 days prior, but then we thought he would get a trial and we could prove his innocents. Father even believed he was innocent. We brought over a few of his things from the apartment, mostly art and working supplies. The day after, we learned he would never get his trial and would be sentenced to death.

I sat at my desk that faced down 5th avenue. Sometimes I sit here and just expect a carriage to come with Jack in it, saying it was all a big mistake and his name was cleared. It never happens. I went into my desk drawer and grabbed my Journal, placing it on my desktop before picking up a pen and beginning to write.

August 8th, 1900

Dear Journal,

Long time no see. I suppose with many recent run ins with unfortunate fate, I forgot to write. The truth is,... I wish I couldn't write. I wish I couldn't live this life. I wish I weren't alive right now, in this dreaded time. I don't know how else to say this, other than to come right out and say it; My fiance is to be killed for heinous crimes he never committed.