The ringing hadn't improved at all. But other than that, Cora was getting more to terms with herself.
Tommy had noticed a distance between he and his daughter. In his head, this was good so he didn't feel obliged to spend time unless he didn't need to- he loved his daughter, naturally but she was too much to deal with. In the past month, 14 episodes had occurred and some lasted days. At this point he couldn't rule out a nutters unit. It was in her best interest, he told himself over and over again to try and justify his heinous thought.
He tucked his daughter up in bed, she was settling nicely tonight. "Night babe. Sleep well. We'll have a good hearty talk in the morning."
Tommy Shelby was not a happy man and he didn't think he would be any happier for sending his baby girl away. How would he break the news?
He didn't have to. Cora had died in her own bed.
Her eyes were flat, her complexion pale. Stone cold dead. Tommy couldn't react.
The pathologists ruled her death as a brain trauma. "Don't be ridiculous she never complained of anything wrong with her head, pains or nothing."
"We're sorry for your loss Mister Shelby."
He grunted in response. How could this have happened? "You don't understand, my daughter loved me she would've said."
"We're sorry for your loss Mister Shelby."
Something must be done about this. This wasn't right.
YOU ARE READING
Popped bubblewrap is no good.
FanfictionCora Shelby. A name you're not likely to forget, being the daughter of Birmingham's most famous gangster. Things have never been easy, they never will. Unless. Unless. She's six when she realises. Will anyone ever take her seriously? She doubts i...
