Chapter 26: A Revelation, Part 2

Serendipity listened carefully but did not blink. Finally, after several minutes of silence, she asked, "Would you want to come with me?"
Maevis wrinkled her forehead in question. "To stay?"
Serendipity nodded once sharply before adding, "Not that I'm even considering it."
Letting go of a deep sigh, Maevis replied, "I couldn't child. Oh, I'd miss you something awful. And I'd want to visit, if that's allowed. And I'd write you letters and hope that you could find a nice elf to write me back. But, no, I couldn't go with you."
Cocking her head to one side, almost like a cat, Serendipity asked, "Why not?"
Studying her interlaced fingers carefully, Maevis replied, "Well, I have things to do. I have people who need me friends responsibilities."
Serendipity continued to stare at her without blinking.?Maevis shifted in her chair. Silence penetrated the room like a thick fog. Moments passed by slowly. At last, Serendipity said, "Who is he?"
Maevis glanced up, meeting her eyes for only a moment before looking back down. "I don't know what you mean"
"Do I know him? Have I met him before?"
Smoothing her perfectly straight dress, Maevis replied slowly, "Yes, you know him."
"How long?"
There was another pause for consideration before the response. "Nine, ten years, I suppose."
"Before then?"
"Yes, before," Maevis confirmed, meeting pale blue eyes at last.?"Your mother didn't like for us to have relationships--even friendships. I had to hide it from her--from everyone. Still am, I guess, even though there's really no reason to."
"He's not married, then?" Serendipity asked, more out of clarification than suspicion.
"Goodness, no," Maevis shot back, her hand straightening the back of her pinned up hair. "What kind of a hussy do you take me for?"
"I didn't think so," Serendipity replied, "only trying to make sense of your secret."
"It has been a secret," Maevis agreed, "and one I wouldn't have kept from you, if I didn't think you'd suppose."
"Suppose what?" Serendipity asked, her eyes wide again.
"Suppose it had anything to do with what happened that day," Maevis clarified.
Serendipity's forehead wrinkled in confusion. Though she often pushed thoughts of that April day out of her mind, she reflected on it now. Who on earth. Then she realized who her friend must mean. "Deputy Shellingpepper?" she asked, her voice high with excitement and surprise.
"Yes," Maevis confirmed, glancing down before answering, "but that has nothing to do with"
"Is that why?" Serendipity asked, standing up so suddenly that the rocking chair shifted behind her and slid back several feet across the floor, sending dozens of little feet scampering for cover. "Is that why he didn't arrest me?"
"No!" Maevis exclaimed, crossing over and facing Serendipity. "No, that had nothing to do with it. I assure you."
"He couldn't take me to jail for killing my family because of his love for you," Serendipity continued, puzzle pieces flying together in her head now.
"That's not true," Maevis implored, her hands resting on Serendipity's shoulders. "It was not his decision to make, Serendipity."
"All this time, I've been trying to convince myself, trying in vain but trying none the less, that it wasn't really my fault, that I wasn't a murderess, but I was--I am--and it was only because of you that he didn't cart me off straightaway and throw me in prison, never to see the light of day again!"
"Serendipity!?Serendipity!" Maevis yelled, grabbing both sides of her face with her strong hands. "You did nothing wrong!?Sylvester didn't take you to jail because you did nothing wrong!" Seeing she was getting nowhere, she finally stated, "There was a hearing, Serendipity."
"What?" she asked, her wandering, tear-filled eyes refocusing. "What do you mean?"
"There was a hearing. Before the judge. A few days after after the incident. I had to testify. So did Sylvester, and Dr. Tweedleton, and Ms. Crotlybloom. We had to testify as to what happened, to the best of our knowledge, and as to whether or not you had acted with any malice. We had all concurred that it was an accident. Then, Judge Craftingminer asked if we thought you were of sound mind--that you would be able to go on about your life under your own power, with our assistance. We all said yes. At the time, we all thought we would be able to take care of you. You were such a little thing, so vulnerable, so frail. Serendipity, Sylvester had nothing to do with the fact that no charges were brought against you. But he is part of the reason why you still have your freedom."
"What do you mean?" Serendipity asked, still processing all that her friend was saying.
"He has to come out every few months and do a wellness check. He has to report back to the judge, to let them know you are of sound mind and body," Maevis explained, finally releasing Serendipity's face but still looking her in the eye.
"But I haven't seen him since that day."
"I know," Maevis nodded, "because he doesn't do it. He lies. He says that he has seen you and you are perfectly sane."
Serendipity's puzzled expression continued. "But why?"
"Because I knew," Maevis went on as she turned away, her back to her young ward now. "I knew that if I actually let him see you, he would know almost immediately that you weren't yourself. And I wouldn't let him take you away from me." She glanced back over her shoulder now. "I wouldn't let him take you and lock you up in an asylum somewhere where you would wither away and never get better. I needed you here, at home, where I could help you."
Serendipity nodded.
"Except for I'm not helping you," she continued, sinking down in the chair.
"What?"
"You're only getting worse"
"No, that's not true," Serendipity replied, crossing the few steps to the chair and dropping onto her knees before her caretaker. "I'm getting better. I know I am."
"Oh, Serendipity, my love," Maevis said, taking her face in her hands again, "I'd so like to believe that, darling. My little angel." She pulled Serendipity's head to her shoulder, smoothing her hair as she did so. Then, as if lost in time, she asked quietly, "Do you remember when you used to climb into my bed late at night, and we'd look out the window and count the stars? Do you remember that?"
Pulling back to meet her eyes, Serendipity nodded, the tears streaming down her face now.
"Even though you'd been through so much, lost your father, with a mother who never understood you and two spoilt sisters, you were so full of life, so full of glee.?Each night, you'd find a different star and tell me a tale about how you would someday go there. You'd tell me the adventure you would have."
"And how Father would be there as well."
"Yes, you would say that.?That your father would be there as well. And I'd remind you that he's in heaven with Jesus now, singing with the angels. You always wanted to see him just one more time. Oh, sweet girl," Maevis exclaimed, wiping tears from her own cheek and from Serendipity's, "this might be your chance at last, to travel to a star, to have an adventure, to start over. Your Pa won't be there, that much I know, but he'd be so proud of you for trying."
"But what of the dolls, of my promise?"
"You'll take them with you, darling. You'll work on them up there, amongst the stars," Maevis explained.
Serendipity looked down at the floor, shaking her head. "But this is my home. I don't want to go"
"Darlin'," Maevis said, pulling Serendipity's chin up to look her in the eye, "whether you go or not, I'm gonna lose you. I'd rather lose you to a noble cause than have you locked away somewhere where I can never reach you."
Serendipity shuddered. "You mean an asylum?"
"No, my love," Maevis clarified, her brown eyes sharp with consternation. "I mean locked away in your mind."