Lucy Harris was desperate. She ran to the shattered mirror that had broken when Spyder had finished with her and slammed the door. Tears streaming down her face, she picked up the longest, meanest-looking shard and brought it to her wrist. She yanked it across the pale, thin skin, tearing it apart and drawing blood. She was heaving tears; her small, thin body wracked with sobs. Sitting on the floor, she leaned her back against the bed and waited, waited, waited as the blood coursed from her wrist. She watched the steady trickle, reclined her head and said to herself, "yes, at last it's over."

At fourteen she had come here, to the Red Rat. She had been abandoned after her mother died, and wandered the streets, begging for food, until she met Gwynnie. Gwendolyn Blythe had rescued her from the elements; but indeed, as Lucy soon discovered, her problems were just about to begin.

She sang and danced at a mock dinner show the tavern held every night. Good folk tunes and drinking songs, sung and danced by the beautiful girls of the tavern. She served the men of the bar drinks and laughed with them, although she wasn't always sure what they were talking about. And then, three months after she had come to the Red Rat, Spyder, the owner, a tall, thin, menacing man decided she should be doing what the girls referred to as "workin' the upstairs". Lucy remembered clearly how he came into her room to tell her what a wonderful job she was doing serving drinks and performing, locking the door behind him. She remembered how his foul breath smelled as he assaulted her mouth with his own. She remembered him slapping her several times across the face for fighting with him as he struggled to remove her clothing. She remembered him ripping some of the garment from her, forcing her legs apart and coldly, cruelly, entering her, tearing her virginity brutally as if it meant nothing. That was her first time, but Spyder decided that night that it would not be their last. He visited her at least twice a week after that for another year. He was cooler in his visits now, now that Lucy was nearly nineteen and a favorite of the customers.

Her life had become one big blur. Endless days faded into endless nights. Her world consisted of lying on a bed for the majority of the day with her legs spread, and allowing any and every man to enter. After years of detesting and hating anything and everything about the Red Rat and numerous attempts at running away, she had become broken. Broken in mind and body and numb. It was then she decided to take her own life...

"Luce...Luce...you're gonna be awright...there's a doctor 'ere...a real gent!" Lucy heard Gwynnies' voice and murmurs in the background, but sleeping felt so nice, and she was tired, so tired, and dizzy. Her eyes fluttered and closed. A hand on her face. All of a sudden, smelling salts beneath her nose jerked her eyes open. Her eyes darted about wildly as she brought her arms up. Strong arms lifted her onto the bed and gently placed her head on the pillow. "Luce...this gent is...what was your name love?" More murmurs. "Doctor Jekyll, Luce! You're goin'ta be awright, love!" Then she heard "madam, would you please get everyone out of here, the patient needs no additional confusion."

Through her eyelids, she saw a dark shape move; someone's head in front of the dim lamplight. "Miss Harris...Miss Harris..." the voice was soothing. She felt a cool rag pressed to her forehead. "Miss Harris...do open your eyes." Lucy groggily obeyed. Her lids felt as if they'd been pasted shut. She finally got them open and her tired eyes rested on the handsome face of a gentleman. He spoke slowly and surely.

"Miss Harris, I am Doctor Jekyll. I believe your friend Gwynnie found you and called for a doctor in the house. I am here with my colleagues. You are going to be fine. You've lost a lot of blood and you will be feeling very weak for several days. It's lucky your friend found you when she did. I would try to eat as much as I could in order to regain my strength if I were you." She looked up at him "Thank you, Doctor Jekyll." He turned back and smiled.

"You must call me Henry, Miss Harris." Lucy smiled faintly back, "and you must call me Lucy." I put weight on my hands to sit up, but flinched at the pain. "A fairly deep incision, Lucy. I have bandaged it with salve to the best of my ability. You must change the dressing daily. I will leave you some other bandages." She pushed herself up the rest of the way so she was sitting up on the bed with him. "Thank you for your kindness, 'enry." He went about the business of packing up his medical kit. "Lucy, it's none of my business in the least but...why? What would make you feel you had no way out?" Lucy looked away, then started talking, for some reason unloading all of her troubles on the doctor, her saviour. "'enry, you have no idea what it is like here. I have been here for five years now, and at times, it seems so...hopeless." Lucy tried to prevent it, but a tear rolled down my cheek and off into the bed sheet. "I'm sorry..." Lucy started. Henry seemed embarrassed, as if he did not know what to do. An emotional female seemed foreign to him. "There, there Lucy", he said, turning his back to produce his handkerchief. "Please don't cry" he started. Lucy leaned her head over, bending at the waist, and sobbed into the handkerchief. Henry's hand went to her back and slowly, methodically rubbed it, as a parent would to a child. Lucy sat up and blew her nose into the handkerchief. Henry slid further in to her and, after hesitating, wrapped her in his arms. She put her head down into his chest and continued to sob. Henry was impressed by the deep, wracking sobs this poor creature was emitting. He took a chance to observe his surroundings. Broken mirror on the floor, torn curtains, torn bed sheets, dark wood everywhere, only a small dim lamp lighting the room. The entire room felt damp and mildewy. Holding this strange woman in his arms left him with an unsettling feeling. He was, however, glad for some strange reason that he could provide her a little solace.

Lucy wrapped her arms underneath Henry's as she sobbed. He did not move, but afforded her his chest to cry on for a quarter of an hour. Slowly, Lucy's sobs subsided and she pulled away. "I'm so sorry, Doctor Jekyll...I...I don't know what came over me."

Henry did not know what to do; his experience with the fairer sex was limited to his overtly kind, caring, rarely moody fiancee, Emma Carew. "Miss Harris...I need to know that when I leave you are going to be alright. You won't try...to do this again." Lucy regarded him with tired, empty eyes. Another tear rolled down her tired face. "No, Doctor Jekyll, I'll be awright. Thank you for your kindness this afternoon."

"Lucy, I will be back to check on you." Her face brightened. "Now, I've already asked that some food be brought up for you. It would please me greatly if you were to eat everything and then rest." Alarm shot through Lucy's mind...she'd be expected to work tonight just like any other. She had to lie to him, though she hated to do so. "Yes, sir. Nothing tonight but food an' rest." She managed a smile. He smiled back, "Very well, then. I must take my leave of you Miss Lucy. I will give you my card if you should need me before my next visit. I do hope you fall on better times than you've received." He placed his card in her hand, his hat on his head, tipped it in her direction, and with his chapeau a bras over his arm, descended the stairs.

Lucy lay back, thinking of the kind doctor's face. How gentle he was when he handled her. And to let her cry without end on his shoulder. She smiled. She looked at his card. 46 Harley Street. A wonderful area of town, of course. She tucked the card into the night table by the bed. Her mind set to work at once building a future between herself and Doctor Jekyll.

Lucy enjoyed a meager dinner of some kind of beef stew and dry, possibly stale bread, but she savored it, for she hadn't eaten this well in a while. She was resting when she heard a knock at the door. Before she could respond, Spyder entered. Her blood froze and she lay stunned on the bed. "Now, Luce, you know 'ow this goes. I only makes money if you work, see? If you get sick or try to off yourself, I ain't gettin' nothin', see? You's one of my prized girls, you are. What is a visit to the Red Rat without a visit to Miss Luce?" Lucy regarded him, reclining against the headboard, certain of what he wanted. "Lucky for you, the good doctor was 'ere. He refused money for his service, he did." Lucy was surprised that Henry had been so kind; then again, who really would pay him? "Now, me girl, I'm afraid I got to punish you. Set an example outta you." She turned her head away from him, and he chuckled, a deep menacing laugh. "Come on love, over before you know it", he said, and approached her on the bed.