A cold breeze found its way through her threadbare shawl, causing the young woman to pull it closer about her shoulders. It reminded her of the chill she'd felt that morning when she had picked up the dirty newspaper the gentleman had dropped on the filthy east-London street. "Another Murder in White Chapel!" the title had screamed, immediately catching her attention. The name itself would bring a chill to anyone in London. Even if they didn't read the paper the gossip around town was focused around this 'Jack the Ripper' person who was killing the East End prostitutes. Four people, she thought, how could Scotland Yard let it have go this far? And the way they had been murdered...it sent chills down her spine even now.
She suddenly didn't feel safe in the dark alleyway she was walking down. It was late, but they had yet to light the gas lamps around the main roads. Her ears perked up a bit at the sound of swishing material behind her in the alley, and suddenly a rock went skittering down the alley. This scared her so badly that she ran down the rest of the alley and turned the corner onto the road, leaning against the nearest building and panting.