It is about halfway through the third hour of the fifteenth day of Lucette's attempt to reorganize her grandfather's library. The project is moving at an acceptable pace overall, though she's starting to question the wisdom of having scheduled the whole thing down to the hour during day three (hour four).
"If we talk about it while it's gone and decide then maybe but - not suddenly, while you're still believing the things it says."
"That makes more sense."
And they're married now and she can feel all of Annie in her head and it feels so... right.
"... it's really nice how you'll always do what's best for me." Lucette says, absolutely confident in this for the first time.
The suicide note is easy enough to write, and then they are off to America. The trip isn't very difficult for Lucette given her powers, but it's harder on her Annie.
None of her powers work very well to counteract seasickness but she'll bear with it to get to a better place with her wife. Husband? Spouse.
Annie is awfully convenient like that.
They have enough money to buy a large place in the countryside, but Lucette can't stand to be away from the bustle of a city. She finds a smaller place in a part of the city with only the occasional street performer on their block, to accommodate her wife's sensitivities.
Annie gets the hang of falling down the stairs when they're too loud and healing from there and waiting it out in the cellar where she can't hear. She can at least tell with her sense when they've quit playing.
Lucette's mother writes Lucette after a month, informing her that Sophie was inconsolable after losing her best friend and... well. Her body was recovered from the River Ouse two weeks after Lucette left.
Annie didn't particularly click with Sophie but she can do her best to comfort her Lucette about it.
Sure, she is.
"Have you at least figured out an income for us. Or done anything else to actually help."
"Can you not even convince them you're component enough to demonstrate on someone desperate?"
Iphigene's previous purported marriage was annulled. The suicide of her empowered daughter Lucette made it quite obvious that the marriage was a sham to cover up the incestuous union of Iphigene and her own father. After all, commoners can't father empowered, and what other possible union would be so scandalous that it would be covered up by marrying the noble women involved to a commoner.
Left out of the letter, but made quite clear in the news that starts filtering in from the continent, is how strenuously the elder Lord Oakhill denies these allegations.