METHOD OF BEDLAM ━ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 ²

𝐯𝐢. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; silence the voices that haunt you

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vi. thirty-one: ❝ silence the voices that haunt you ❞

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: take on the world - you me at six

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Somewhere in London

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Inside Ada's London residence, the early morning sun painted a soft glow across the family room. Thomas Shelby, the enigmatic leader of the Shelby clan, sat at a table with a paper and pen, absorbed in the act of writing a letter. The room echoed with the faint scratches of the pen against paper, a silent testament to the gravity of the words being inscribed.

Thomas's sister entered the room with a tray bearing the aroma of freshly brewed tea.

Her gaze fell upon her brother, deep in thought, and she couldn't help but ask, "Do you want tea?"

Thomas remained engrossed in the letter, his focus unwavering.

Ada, interpreting his silence, let out a sigh. Undeterred, she poured a cup of tea for him, walking over to the table where Thomas sat.

"Did you want one anyway, you ignorant git?" Ada chided gently, sliding the cup in front of her brother.

"Ada, sit down here for a minute." Without looking up, Thomas spoke, his cigarette dangled between his fingers as he continued, "Ada, if anything happens to me today, I need you to post this letter. The stamp's already on. Don't ask any questions, it's to do with insurance."

"Look, Tommy, whatever it is you're involved in, just tell us," Ada's concern deepened, and she stared at the sealed envelope, she pleaded. "God, you never let anybody in."

"Ah, here's another one. Same thing, if anything happens to me today," Ignoring her plea, Thomas handed her another letter, dismissing Ada's words. "Give this to Mari."

"Except her. You never let anybody in except her," Ada observed, her eyes fixed on the envelope. "We love you too, Tom."

Thomas met his sister's gaze, a moment of silent acknowledgment passing between them. The unspoken understanding hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the multifaceted subtleties that well-defined the Shelby family.

And then, the morning light gently spilled into Ada's residence as Marianna entered the room, a greeting on her lips.

"Morning." She uttered, walking straight to the tray of tea.

Ada sighed, her eyes meeting Thomas's, and she quickly pocketed the second letter.

"Morning, Mari. How's your sleep?" Ada inquired, attempting to maintain a casual tone.