Another life to live

Chapter 16~ A Lin-ttle Problem

Ho boy this is going to be an exciting chapter.

The next day Evelyn was called into work. It was bound to happen soon anyway.

She left for the museum in the early morning, apparently some new arrivals had come and they needed help setting them up. That left everyone alone in the house till four or five. That was plenty of time for Alexander to find the address of his old house, the Grange, and slip out into the streets of New York.

He got there in good time, it was about ten when he arrived. Almost immediately, tears threatened to spill. It looked the same as it had before.... whatever. It possibly looked even better. "Well, she did say they restored it"He found that it was open and stepped inside.

 There were some people in there already, not many, just enough that it was slightly awkward when he saw them in rooms he had once occupied with his family. He was beside himself when he saw his office. It was clean. It was never clean when he worked there prior. It was a constant messy mass of letter drafts, actual letters, ink stains, broken or worn quills, inkwells, and books when he worked but now? No. It was what it was supposed to be, an office, a neat, clean, clutter-free office. He sat in the chair at his old writing desk, he had to remind himself to breathe. It felt like it had back then, just him sitting there, all these thoughts rushing through his head, begging to be set loose onto paper, he actually reached for some papers but there was none.

He didn't want to go to his bedroom. That was the last place he wished to be. It had all those memories of the affair, fights with Eliza after the publication of that damn pamphlet, and the times he cried with her after Philip had.... done what he let him do. Instead, he opted to go to the living room. The piano was still there, fond times of his family gathered 'round it while Eliza or Pip played a sweet melody danced like butterflies across his mind. He could still remember the tune Eliza had taught him while they courted but he doubted he could recreate it. Times of joy, times when the only thing that mattered was his family, times he threw away because he would rather work than be near them. 

He let a few solitary tears fall for them. His children must miss him dearly. He had looked them up, John Church did as much as he could, he was proud that he had helped his mother as best he could. Proud of all of them that they still lived on despite his death. He was greatly saddened by Angelica Hamilton, his first daughter. It broke him up inside to see that she never recovered from her broken mind. It must've been hell for her to live like that, in a ward where no one believes you, in terrible conditions, alone, scarred by your father and brothers death. She was quite the spitfire when she was healthy, lovely young lady, now she lived with angels in a place where no harm would befall her, where she was happy with her brothers and sisters.

His wanderings were quiet, hands behind his back and a solemn expression. Time moves on, he had to as well. Pictures of him, Eliza, and children of theirs littered the house. He came across a mirror during his walk. He only paid it a glance before moving on but he had to stop for a second.

He hadn't pulled his hair back that morning. In fact he was still a mess from yesterday's little fiasco. All he had done was wash his face and put on clean clothes. A long sleeve green shirt with a grey t-shirt on top and some black pants.

So why did his reflection have no hair in his face?

Thinking about it, his reflection also had different clothing on, something red and something blue. 

He backed up to find himself face to face with, not his reflection but a different man staring back.

The man had short hair, a red shirt and blue jeans on, they stood at about the same height and had a similar skin tone, but the face...