Evelyn walked the gardens at the Carrington estate as she was bringing a lunch she made for her mother. Just because the woman was a cook it didn't mean she could just eat the food there, that was for the family.

She clutched a small basket when she thought she heard something. Wondering if it were a dog or a fox, she walked around some flowering bushes and rose her brow. "Not a fox or a dog. It's a rat." She said very matter of factly as she looked at the Carrington and then flashed a small smile. It was more in familiarity, she couldn't recall the last time he'd given her any reason to smile. 

"What are you doing?" She knew he could just as easily cast her off or yell at her, but she was curious.

Peasants talked at him now. Peasants! First it was that French beggar-king, and now even the servants were making eye contact! The gall!

It didn’t help that he slunk more than skittered now.

Roderick was pulling petals off one of his mother’s favorite flowers when he startled far more mildly than years past – a mere jump of the shoulders rather than full-body hurling himself under the bench.

“I could ask the same of you,” he said, haughtily.

But he didn’t.

Evelyn rose her brow but still just looked at him, she crouched low as if inspecting a wild animal. "I come to give my mother her meal as I used to do all of the time. I haven't been in a bit because I used to work for a doctor, but he's retired so until I have a new job I am doing it again. Do you not remember me, Roderick?" It was hard to tell them apart sometime, but his brothers weren't so skittish and he hadn't really changed that much.

She stood straight again and held the basket in both hands. "I don't want to bother you while you..." She let her voice die as he didn't answer her. "Enjoy yourself?" Her head cocked to the left a few degrees. "Do you want me to bring you more flowers when I come back? There are so many all around." It was indeed a very beautiful garden.

He listened. Or, at least it looked like he listened. His eyes were on her, anyway, but his fingers sought the next poor petal to pluck.

“So you’re here for a job,” he surmised. “Maria would be the one to talk to.”

There was no Maria.

He frowned when she inquired to fetching more flowers, but this frown was less hostile.

“These will do. Do you need help finding your mother?”

Evelyn rose a brow. "I don't want a job here." She shook her head quickly. "I'm looking for a doctor to work for." This place was big and cold and not for a nurse.

"Alright, if you're happy with the flowers you have." She tilted her head curiously. "I don't think so? I think she should be in the kitchen, but if youwant someone to escort me to make sure I don't wander, you can. I've always been very behaved, but you are free to be concerned."

She reached over to pluck a petal. "What are you taking these for?"

Roderick bristled. He had been looking for a doctor to work for, too, and had been rejected! Quite rudely, at that!

“Getting ahead of your station, are you?”

Having already made an ass of himself, Roderick decided to double down.

“Quite right you are,” he huffed.

His lips thinned when she asked him a question, and he tossed the flower behind him.

“To see if God loves me.”

That sounded way less pathetic in his head.

Evelyn looked at Roderick confused. "Ahead of my station? How so? I am just doing what I've been doing."

She was confused easily but he made her feel quite lost, like she was standing in a desert at night with nothing but the wind and sand swirling around her. "You make little sense to me." She admitted.

When he tossed the flower, she walked over and lifted it up carefully. "God loves everyone. What matters is you love yourself.' She said simply and tucked the flower over her ear, even if it was half plucked it made her feel pretty.

It had sounded dumb enough without the rightfully confused look she gave him. By the time words accompanied it, he wished it were him that had gotten shot God knew how many times over.

“… Good!” he declared, though it … squeaked.

He frowned when she fetched the discarded flower, crossing his arms. This was probably the longest conversation he’d ever had with The Help. Or, well, anyone since Magnus died. All his friends had become mysteriously unavailable – even when they shared classes.

He didn’t push it lest the school kick him out outright.

“Masturbation is a sin,” he answered plainly, starting toward the door in.

Evelyn just stared at him as if he would follow up his words with an explanation but none came. She still did not show much emotion when he spoke again.

"But men and women do it anyway. And lesser sins can be forgiven. As long as you don't break the ten commandments... But why did you mention this?" It had come out of nowhere as far as she could tell. "Are you trying to confess to me?" Was he catholic? She wasn't and clearly wasn't a priest.

Roderick stared at her, uncomprehendingly – at first. It was clear as day the moment understanding dawned upon him, for his face glowed with embarrassment and he even cringed back.

“What!” he sputtered. “Don’t tell me you--” he choked on his own spit and looked away. “I bet Magnus didn’t masturbate,” he rushed, to say something.

Something so incredibly stupid he almost felt like an absurd confession would have gone over better. Was Magnus not in hell because he just murdered women instead of masturbating?

“Where’s your mother,” he sighed.

They were nowhere near the kitchen yet.