Dear, Hamilton

The greatest city in the world! ...Gone?

I'm so shell shocked by my bomb and Riley's death that I stay seated on the lawn's grass when Alexander has to leave to report my news to General Washington. He gazes at me worriedly, appearing reluctant to leave me alone. He finally settles for tucking a locking of hair behind my ear before heading towards the mansion.

I watch his back as he walks into the murmuring crowd. So purposeful, I can't help but think. He walks like he's always on a mission and is confident it will succeed.

Soon, though, he disappears amongst the crowd, so I shift my blank gaze to stare down at the grass. I run my fingers through the long grass, memorized by the way the grass parts before my hand.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I look up to see Kitty smiling at me with concern. "Hey, Eliza. Are you okay?" she asks.

I can't bring myself to smile back, so I simply nod. "I'm okay."

ALEXANDER HAMILTON'S POV:

I don't want to leave her alone. Not after what must have been a traumatizing experience for her. I thought I had stressed enough to her to be careful, but being the rebellious, stubborn girl she is, she tried to help.

And put herself at risk in the process.

So typical.

I tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear as I look into her sad eyes. She looks so broken that it terrifies me and drives me crazy at the same time. I can tell she's studying my eyes when our eyes meet. She's been doing that since she reappeared, as if trying to figure out a complicated puzzle.

As if she knows that we've met before but cannot quite remember. Even though she told me her sisters' names, I can tell she still doesn't remember her life here. Maybe she only remembers that part of her life, her childhood. But if that were the case, then why does she still act as if she doesn't know Angelica and Peggy?

I think all of these things as I stride purposefully towards Washington, who stands amongst the crowd of partygoers on the front lawn. I can easily pick out his tall frame through the crowd.

I stop before him abruptly and he turns towards me, a rare smile blooming on his face at the sight of me.

"Colonel Hamilton," he says kindly. "I'm glad to see you're okay, son."

I chose to ignore his use of 'son'. While he is like my family, like the father I never had since mine abandoned me when I was six years old, it still bothers me to hear that word. I don't like to rely on anyone but myself, so the thought of growing close enough to Washington to consider him as my replacement father figure sounds terrifying.

I glance uncomfortably at the eavesdropping people around us before telling him stiffly,"I found out who set the bombs at the British camp."

Washington seems to get the message and, putting a hand on my shoulder, leads us away from the curious mill of people. When we're out of earshot, he asks, "Who was it?"

"Eliza, sir," I inform him.

His eyes shoot up in surprise. "Eliza?" he clarifies in disbelief. "What? Why? How?" His disbelief grows with every question.

I frown slightly as I reply, "She only told me a little. She seemed a little shell shocked, sir." He nods in understanding and indicates for me to continue my report. I oblige, saying, "She went with a soldier named Riley to the British camp where she then proceeded to blow up their supply wagons and a portion of their headquarters."

Washington raises a brow. "And did she say why?"

"Well, I can only assume it was to draw the redcoats away from us by creating a big enough distraction," I say confidently with a shrug.