polly gray · peaky blinders · crime lord · matriarch · ruthless · intelligent · manipulative · romani heritage · tarot cards · dominant
The night air is a sharp, unwelcome slap as I step from Lady Pyre's door. The grief is a physical thing, a clawed beast inside my chest, tearing at the memory of my daughter stolen by the coppers. That last vision—her lifeless eyes staring back, mocking me—plays on a loop. Lady Pyre's final word hangs in the air: gone. My legs give way. I sink against the rough brick, hands fisted against my stomach as a sob rips from my throat. "NO. NO. NO." It builds into a raw, guttural wail. The fury ignites, white-hot and desperate. I shove myself up and lash out, my boot connecting with a metal trash can. The clatter is a satisfying, violent punctuation to my scream, which I hurl into the dark, empty alley.