Penny had never seen a mansion until arriving at Silas Javernick’s compound. It was somehow more unlike a house than the group homes and facilities she had been in while being the most homey place she had ever been.

She had an enormous bedroom with a queen sized canopy bed–that she never drew the curtains on because it made her feel suffocated–and a giant picture window that faced the stables. The decor was vaguely feminine without the frills, and she was told by Mrs. Adams upon arrival that she could swap out things as she wished, but had yet to take advantage of that.

There being stables was a feature that put the mansion outside of the house feel. Hodge had been captured and carted to the compound with her, and now resided in a large box stall that was always kept with fresh shavings and clean water. He was turned out in the small, attached paddock periodically, but mostly kept indoors. His adjustment was going bumpier than Penny’s.

Her stitches were gone. Her nightmares had started to calm down. A month came and went before she knew it, and the only source of disquiet now what that she had yet to meet Silas Javernick. Her only contact was with Mrs. Adams who acted as the caretaker and her lessons master. She no longer had to go to school and try fitting in, but found the workload much more intense. She had regular lessons about creatures and the history of the Realm alongside regular subjects. There was a big focus on unicorn lore and handling.

“Mr. Javernick will return tonight,” Mrs. Adams said, jarring Penny from a medieval tapestry. “He is quite eager to meet you. I want you in that blue set I sent aside for the occasion.”

Penny hummed to indicate she heard and understood. Her eyes dropped back to the tapestry recreation of the penned up unicorn. The burning question she had ever since meeting Mrs. Adams boiled to the surface.

She cleared her throat, aiming for nonchalance, saying, “He knew my mother, right? He’s not… not my father… is he?”

“Of course not,” Mrs. Adams said without hesitation. “How absurd. Now, if you’ve finished analyzing, put that away and be dismissed. I expect an accurate description and interpretation tomorrow by lunch.”

The rest of the day was spent wandering through the garden surrounded by a picket fence and grooming Hodge. She was allowed to use whatever she wanted to keep him clean and happy, and was given old remedies for hoof polish and mane conditioning to try out. Some of these were strange enough that she posted pictures of them, and whatever worked or didn’t work she was sure to do before and after shots. Those had a surprising following on their own, and she saw her follower count climb to fifteen million. Not that she paid much attention to it.

There was never a high from gaining followers, but whatever happy little blips she had felt had evaporated around the time of that horrific camping trip. Life was more fragile and fleeting than she had grasped; Beth-Ann, Aaliyah, and even Brooke had shown her that.

“It was never about believe or not,” Penny muttered, combing Hodge’s neck. “I was a bored little kid with a phone and a unicorn. I’m not responsible if people believe in you or not.” She packed away her brushes and gave him a hearty pat. “I know it’s fenced in, but you should try going outside more. It’s not your glade, but it’s better than shot and dissected.” She booped his velvet nose. “I have to go look nice for this Javernick guy. I guess a snob is better than a pedophile….”

The blue outfit–a royal blue knee-length skirt, pale blue blouse with a ruffled collar, jacket in royal blue and navy houndstooth–was set out on her bed when she returned to her room. She stared at it, examining each article, for far longer than needed. It took even longer to put it all on. She caught the briefest glimpse of herself in her vanity mirror, stomach twisting, and sat on the edge of her bed out of sight of the mirror.

The sky outside streaked red and died away into inkiness as she sat, staring down at where the hem of her skirt met her knees. She jolted as a knock sounded on her door, and cringed as Mrs. Adams’s disapproving stare floated across her mind.

“It-it’s unlocked,” she called.

A short, stout man entered. He set his twinkling blue eyes on Penny, and gave her a warm, easy smile. Despite the friendliness he exuded, she recoiled as he approached, drawing up her feet onto her bed and taking care that her skirt was plastered down.

“It’s good to finally see you, Penrose. May I come closer?” He approached on her shrug but kept a few feet of distance, and did not dare to attempt to sit. His smile broadened, but there was something other than friendliness and joy in his face. “My goodness… you look a great deal like Keena. Aisling said you did, but I still wasn’t prepared.”

Slowly, she lowered her feet. “You talked to Aisling?”

“I did. She reached out about a year ago asking for help in finding you. Apparently, there was a priest that had been asking around after her, said he knew you, but when she was able to get leave to see you, you were no longer in the area.”

Her lip shook as tears fell from her eyes. That priest had tried to help after all. He had not only used her to get information about Brooke and Mr. McBride. She buried her face in her hands, choking on a sob.

“I had Mrs. Adams send word to her the moment you arrived. Once she has leave again, she’ll visit. I don’t expect you’ll need to wait long.”

“My goodness me!” Mrs. Adams stood in the doorway, looking scandalized. “Mr. Javernick, what on earth are you doing here? Your dinner is growing cold.”

“Now, now, Mrs. Adams; it can be reheated.”

“All the same, sir, I’d rather not,” Mrs. Adams said sternly. “Penrose, dry those eyes and head downstairs. You two can get acquainted over a hot meal.”

Dinner was some kind of fancy steak wrapped in pie crust. Penny ate her portion in no time, earring disapproving throat clearing from Mrs. Adams the entire time. The old woman’s quick tongue had apparently been stopped by the presence of her boss at the table; he did not give Penny’s lack of manners a single glance.

“Mrs. Adams said you knew my mother,” Penny said after she caught her breath from gobbling her meal.

“I did,” Silas Javernick said, daintily picking through his own dinner. “We were great and constant friends for a decade.” He smiled down at his plate.

Penny lowered her silver chalice of water. “...Were?”

“Are,” Silas said hastily.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Something had happened when she was around twelve. She had understood Aisling was never a candidate for guardianship due to her vows, and with the rest of the Fox family dead, that left only her mother. Until two years ago when the caseworkers started bringing up foster for adoption.

“Mr. Javernick?”

“Silas. If you’d like.”

“Mr. Javernick… What happened to my mother?”

He set aside his fork and knife. “Mrs. Adams, I think a cup of tea in the small parlor is in order.” He stood–Mrs. Adams staggering with difficulty to do the same–and smiled down at Penny. “Shall we?”

It was a bit of a show just to be sat down and told her mother was dead, but Penny humored him and allowed herself to be led off to the small parlor. She wasn’t sure what made a parlor a parlor and not a living room, and had a brief wonder how many of these random living rooms were really called something else as she sat into a worn, over-stuffed leather chair.

“Thank you,” Silas said, taking the tea from Mrs. Adams. “You can retire for the night. You’ve well earned the extra rest.”

The elderly woman let out a disgruntled huff at the suggestion and stalked off to the best of her ability.

“Well then, Penrose, where to start? I’m sure your aunt told you many stories already.”

“Aisling didn't like to talk about Keena,” Penny said. “She told me more generic things, like she was the oldest and sensitive to magic, but not a mage.”

“Magic is strong in your family,” Silas said, nodding. “Your grandfather and aunt both had the gift. I believe all members, your dear late grandmother too, had sensitivity to it….” He traced his finger on the teacup handle. “Your mother was… something else. A phenom; that’s what we called her.”

Aisling could do magic. That was far more phenomenal than being able to sense it, no matter how strong the sensitivity was.

“You know, you and I have been connected from your start,” Silas said, smiling fondly. “I was always hoping to meet you.”

Her heart missed a beat. “M-Mrs. Adams said you weren’t my father.”

His jovial face darkened. He looked into his cup, swirled it, and sipped. There was a pause after with him continuing to stare into his now empty cup before he took a breath and set his eyes once more on her.

“Your father was not a nice man,” Silas said frankly. He set his cup aside and draped his arms on the chair’s arms. “I helped your mother put you in care. And, I kept tabs on you for her up until the state meddled.”

Penny blinked, her eyes narrowing in a glare. Silas spoke about her going into the system, of helping put her there, as if it was a great accomplishment.

“You…,” she started, speaking slowly and carefully, “helped my mother give me away?” Heat rose in her chest. “And, you think that was… good?”

The hint of a smile that had started returning when talking about him helping Keena get rid of her fell away.

“She never wanted to,” Silas said.

“Oh, so, you talked her into it,” Penny said scathingly. “Good to know.”

“It was to keep you safe,” Silas said. “Your mother—.”

“Keep me safe,” Penny spat. She launched to her feet. “Didn’t Mrs. Adams tell you where she got me? Did you know why I was in jail? Aaliyah could’ve been me. Brooke. Beth-Ann. Even Paige, getting ready to age out with a big, dark nothing on her horizon.”

“Penrose—.”

“No!” 

She felt the tears coming, and stormed for the exit. He would not get to see her cry. She stopped, whirling back now that the distance was safe enough he wouldn’t catch on.

“You were a terrible friend to force her to get rid of me,” she growled. “I hope she realized that before she died.”

“She’s not dead.”

Penny stuttered in her exit upon those words. Hesitantly, she looked back at Silas, waiting. She crossed her arms huffily, glowering at his gesture to sit back down.

“I don’t expect Aisling to have told you why you were given up,” Silas said. “No, likely not with you being only nine when you were separated. I expect she stuck to the histories of the Holy Cor and Knights of Ferblanc.” He cleared his throat as Penny continued staring with zero give. “As I was saying, your mother was considered a phenom; people like that are a rare sort. They change things. A place. People. Everything, if you let them. And, others are drawn to them. …Good and bad types.”

She had questions starting to build, but was not ready to play into Silas’s conversation.
“So? What’s any of that got to do with her not being dead?”

“I don’t believe she is,” Silas clarified.

Penny’s hackles rose. “Goodnight.” She spun on her heel and stormed off.

She was halfway up the grand staircase before turning around. She ran out onto the grounds, making a beeline for the stables. She hunkered down in Hodge’s stall, cozying up to the unicorn and burying herself in the clean shavings. His deep, sleepy breathing lulled her to sleep.

-----------------------------

It's a short one, but I didn't want to jump into another scene with the length of this. I thought Silas would get to say more about Keena before Penny broke off the conversation, but it didn't work out that way. You meet Nellie first, so meet Silas first through her, but he has more connection with Penny/Keena. A big connection being he was the person that helped Keena give Penny up, and then helped get Aisling assigned to the group home to watch over her. (He was also friendly with Keena and Aisling's mother, in the way that you're friendly with a good neighbor and might have a cup of coffee with them outside on nice days.)

That unnamed priest really was trying to help Penny find Aisling. He was multitasking in helping turn in Mr. McBride. I almost had him try to mention something about someone getting back to his requests the last time you see him, but I think it would've messed up the timeline too much, so left that out. Aisling would've been individually reprimanded in addition to St. Brigid's being investigated due to her sometimes obvious favoritism towards Penny. That, plus her being part of the Holy Cor and not really a Marian nun, would've made things complicated, convoluted, and drawn out. I lost track of times/dates in my head a bit, but it should be about five years between Penny being removed from Aisling and the Holy Cor to right now.

I guess the only other note is to say that the fancy steak in a pie crust is beef wellington. I'm 100% sure Mrs. Adams told Penny that's what it was called, likely tells her what each part of every meal is called as part of her refinement lessons, but that Penny ignored her so just had 'fancy steak in a pie crust' in her mind. (Sidenote: beef wellington is made with puff pastry not pie crust, but when I made it I used pie crust since I had no puff pastry, lol.)

An ear-splitting scream rang out across the house; Penny throwing herself into a sitting position, drenched in cold sweat. Her shaking hand went to the large, bandaged bite beneath her pajamas, feeling the small bumps of the stitching.

The bedroom was plain and of a modest size with just one window. Pre-dawn gray light was beginning to shine through, washing out the sharp corners of the walls. It was a cold, listless room, but familiar in that Penny had used it before when the Sizemores watched her during her time with the Lamberts. Comfort was still not a word that came to mind despite this familiarity.

There was no more sleep to squeeze out with her nightmare coming so soon to sunrise. She stared at her blank ceiling, mouthing what she could remember of a mantra, prayer, or hymn that Aisling used to repeat to her over and over when she was small. She stayed put until she was certain breakfast was well underway downstairs.

“You need to work on those nightmares,” Mrs. Sizemore said crossly, setting cold cereal on the table. “Trauma or no, we have jobs we need to get up for.”

“Don’t think seeing a girl’s guts all spread around is an easy get over,” Aaliyah muttered under her breath, further covering her comment with a long drink of coffee.

Penny and her briefly met each other’s eyes before continuing with breakfast in silence.

Her fostering by the Sizemores had been delayed a week to treat her injury, be debriefed by police and rangers, to start off on therapy, and to be sure the Sizemores still wanted to deal with her now that she had extra baggage (and a smaller stipend with new expenses resulting from that baggage). Whether Aaliyah was explicitly told what had happened, or if she overheard something, she had been giving Penny a pass on her usual bullying. She was not nice to her in any regard, mainly ignoring her, but in ways Penny appreciated that more.

Her friends at school, and Colton, wanted to hear all the details, ask how she was, but there was an unspoken rule between all of them not to bring it up. It felt stagnant between them, and as if everyone was trying too hard not to pull away into other groups or activities to escape the crushing lapses of awkward silences.

There was the tiniest highlight of Colton now avoiding her as much as she had been avoiding him before. He would make a show of greeting her, sometimes putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked, but then spent the rest of the school day apart or with a friend or two between them. Penny knew it wasn't sustainable; it was a question of which of them would be the first to say it out loud.

She flinched as Colton dropped his arm around her shoulders as she arrived at school. He quickly withdrew.

“Did I touch your…,” he trailed off, his eyes lingering on her shoulder.

“Only surprised me,” Penny said. Her green eyes darted to her hand as he took it, swinging it in time with their steps. “You’re extra happy today.”

“My mom says you should come around for dinner,” Colton said. “This weekend or next. It feels like… I don't know, like things are getting to be okay again.”

Heat flared in Penny’s chest. “Okay again?” She crossed her arms and stepped away. “Beth-Ann doesn’t ever get to be okay again.”

“I didn’t mean—You know what I was trying to say,” Colton said defensively. “What happened was awful. You know I believe that.”

She unbristled. “Sorry….”

“Paige wants to come. Whichever weekend works out for you,” he said. He smirked. “It’s kinda grown up, right? The girlfriends coming over for dinner.”

She froze as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She barely was able to force out a smile as he bid her goodbye, heading off to his class. She touched her cheek, walking in a stupor towards geography.

Hodge was not going to like this.

---

The unicorn was antsy when she visited that evening. He flattened his ears when she petted his neck, but allowed it. He refused the butterscotch chip molasses cookie she made for him. She knew he'd gobble it up the moment she left.

“You know it's a bribe,” Penny muttered. “You’re too good and honest a creature for that. Oh, hold still a sec, you’ve got a major burr.”

The task of painstakingly removing burrs with her fingertips was oddly soothing. There was a degree of focus to it so that she didn't pull too hard or prick herself too badly. It was good for clearing her mind, to stop it from showing her images from that night. Hodge had been getting a lot of burrs since that camping trip. Much more than before.

“My counselor wants a specialist to evaluate me tomorrow,” Penny said. “She isn't saying it, but she thinks I'm a lost cause. …Guess that tracks.” She patted his neck, receiving a disgruntled snort. “I know. I know. I got to stop all this with Colton. It isn't fair to either of you. It's…,” she moved away from the unicorn, “it's that I don't think we can go back to friends after this… Maybe if he wasn't into this boyfriend-girlfriend thing so much….”

Colton was the only friend she had that she still saw consistently, and that was with how much she gave him the cold shoulder. There would be no one left if she dumped Colton. There may be no one left if he dumped her. It was always possible there would be no one if they stayed together, everyone growing bored with their couple act.

Penny finished up a braid in Hodge’s mane. She gave his neck a long, steady stroke. “I had no one before. So long as I have you, it’ll all be okay. …I wonder how Brooke is….”

She shook her first friend from her mind, bid Hodge farewell, and hurried out of the glade. She was halfway back to the Sizemores when a chill ran down her spine. She slowed, froze, as the hairs on her arm rose. She spun around, immediately feeling defenseless and helpless when all she managed to grab as a weapon was her cellphone.

A willowy man was climbing from an old car with a mud splattered front bumper. He wore a lot of black, as if he could not do without it, and his lank, jaw-length hair looked previously dyed or bleached with the ends being off colored and not sandy brown.

Penny lowered her guard as an odd sense of familiarity crept into place over the initial alarm.

“Penrose,” he asked. His voice was distinct, with a croak and rasp that she could not mistake. “Penrose Fox, right?”

“Who wants to know?”

His lip curled. He took a step forward, stopped as she took a step back.

“I heard about your case,” he said. His jacket shimmered slightly as he opened it, showing off the inside pocket. “Can you see that from there? Do you know it?”

She took two micro-steps forward, squinting. Her heart missed a beat. A smile hesitantly formed on her face as she locked in on the marking: 🜩.

“Y-you’re with the Order of Ferblanc….”

“Somewhat reluctantly, but yeah.” He let his jacket fall loose. “Friend of mine told me about what happened. You met her. Bowen Crabtree.” He gave a dismissive wave. “Nevermind. Probably didn’t exchange names with her busy killing that not-deer chomping on your shoulder.” He winced. “Sorry… that was too blunt.”

Penny shrugged, reading over her stitches and staring at the pavement. There had been a rescuer, but she had only barely registered the person was a woman with all that had happened. She had not even delivered Penny back to camp, merely taking her to within sight of the clearing before dashing off–-presumably to handle the rest of the herd and clear a path for Beth-Ann to be found.

“She’s the keeper for that stretch. If you were wondering. She wasn’t some random park ranger.”

“I figured she must’ve been… I think,” Penny said. “Beth-Ann, officially, was mauled by a mountain lion. A random person would’ve completely freaked out and gone with rabid deer or something.”

“It’s easier.” He pointed to her phone still in her hand. “But… you don’t share the whole idea of keeping the Realm quiet, do you?”

She shifted away from him, crossing her arms tight. “You never said your name?” She glared. “You could be a bad guy. Being part of the Order doesn’t automatically make you a good guy.”

He laughed a deep, slightly wheezing, laugh. “Ezekiel Zickefoose.” He gave her a courteous nod. “Eek, if you’d like, but never in front of other Knights.” His smile faltered. “You can sense something off about me, right? Like magic, but not exactly the same. That’s my superpower; naturally more resilient against magic. Pretty useful for a Knight.”

“Yeah…,” Penny said, sidestepping. She looked at her phone, gulping at the time. “Well, Mr. Zickefoose, it’s cool getting some connection to the Realm again, but I do have a curfew. I’d exchange numbers, but…,” she looked at this grown man trying hard not to be a full blown goth, “kind of weird. Sounds like you know about Hodge, so you can just DM me.”

“Right… I’ve held you up. I wanted to meet you before tomorrow.” He gave a small, sly smile. “Your counselor thinks I’m some type of mental health consultant. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not.”

She stared, eyes once more flicking over his appearance.

“I can’t really help with what happened except to be someone who knows what really happened.” He dusted his hands together. “There. Now your hour tomorrow we don’t need introductions. You can just talk. Bowen said you’d need it.”

“Thank you,” Penny said, unsure. “Umm, I do need to go….”

He didn’t try stopping or delaying her further, but Penny could feel him staring after her as she walked on. She bolted once she turned down the next street, stealing a glance back.

“What a weirdo….”

Ezekiel Zickefoose stayed on the edges of her mind as she sat down to dinner and prepared for bed. There was something about his voice she couldn’t shake, something about how he looked that sparked familiarity. She must have been familiar to him as well with how he immediately jumped to his nickname and watched her go. He had no real reason to intercept her, pretext of giving her the heads up or not.

Her phone buzzed, distracting her from staring into the nothingness of her ceiling. Her heart plummeted when she saw it was Colton’s customary goodnight text. This one asked a follow up question, so it felt too rude to leave it answered.

Did you get a chance to ask about dinner?

A simple ‘no’ worked, but was too blunt. She deleted it and tried again, but ‘not yet’ wasn’t right either. It was dancing around the glaring issue, the one she was hoping he’d pick up on enough to call it quits mutually. Her insides squirmed with guilt as she slowly wrote out:

Dinner won’t work. I don’t think dating works. Sorry.

She hastily silenced her phone and put it screen down so as to not see the light from the notifications. She gulped the stale air, half surprised to find tears leaking from her eyes. It was hard to say if it was the crying itself or knowing she hurt her–now former–friend for so much longer than needed that embarrassed her most. It was being a coward not explaining it all in person.

Penny took deep, slow breaths and forced her mind back to Ezekiel Zickefoose. There was not much to latch onto outside of his voice and appearance. She stared hard, hearing Mrs. Sizemore leave for work for the overnight shift. She continued staring with nothing to grasp as her eyes grew heavy and the sounds of thumping came from the stairs. Her eyes were shut, breathing starting to even out as her ears caught murmurs from Aaliyah’s room, drawers or something being shut or banged about.

Aisling’s room was being raided by an unknown man and woman; they were packing a bag for her because her mother had died unexpectedly. That man… he was goth trying hard not to be with a croak in his voice.

She sat up, breathing hard. The familiarity… the voice and fashion… how he seemed to know her–depite them not meeting before–it all added together. That woman with him at that time may’ve even been Bowen Crabtree, but she had no reason to think that and couldn’t remember enough of her rescuer to connect the two.

“...Please… not tonight… please….”

Penny stared through the wall that separated her room from Aaliyah’s. She blinked slowly, ears straining, annoyed at the distraction from this revelation that Ezekiel Zickefoose was connected to Aisling. She flinched at the sound of a slap and a yelp.

She was out of bed and throwing open Aaliyah’s door before she knew she had even moved.

Mr. Sizemore was bearing down on Aaliyah as she cowarded in the farthest corner of her bed. Her buttoned pajama top was torn open. She held her face where she’d been smacked.

“Ger back to your room,” Mr. Sizemore demanded. He straightened when Penny stayed frozen, and lumbered towards her menacingly. “Get back to your room, and you keep that mouth of yours—.”

Penny heard static. She saw red. There was a scream from Mr. Sizemore, high pitched and pained. Her foot hurt, and it took a minute for her to realize she had kicked him and was continuing to kick him. Even once she realized, she kept kicking every inch of him as he thrashed about on the floor trying to protect himself. She grabbed a lamp, threw it over him with a guttural yell. She searched for anything else to use.

“Penny!” Aaliyah grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. “S-stop! You’ll kill him!”

She kicked him once more in the stomach, or groin, grabbed Aaliyah’s wrist, and ran down the stairs. Her mind was racing, tripping over itself, not making sense of anything. She kept her grip on Aaliyah tight, and the older girl didn’t stop her or fight her off. They dashed from the cul-de-sac, down into the woods, and out into Hodge’s glade. Only then did Penny stop to catch her breath, and release Aaliyah.

“Y-you idiot,” Aaliyah snarled. “You messed up everything!”

“What?” Penny glared. “I just—.”

“Took me out of the only place keeping me from a homeless shelter,” Aaliyah snapped. “I got nowhere to go!” She scoffed. “You never got it. Brooke resented that. Pretty Penny, too pure for the creeps. You’d get believed. Couldn't have that.”

Penny took a breath. “How long’s it been going on?”

“All my life,” Aaliyah said, faux-nonchalance breaking with a crack in her voice. “Or, Mr. Sizemore specifically? Since the Lamberts used to pawn us off on them.”

A shrill, braying whinny rang out. In the dark, Hodge looked like he glowed. He charged from the woods, lowering his head to point his black horn forward into a skewering position. He went for Aaliyah, but Penny blocked him, shushing him and speaking calming nonsense.

Aaliyah fell backwards. “Th-that’s from—It’s r-real. That’s a real unicorn!”

“Ssh, Hodge, easy there,” Penny said, ignoring Aaliyah. The colt kept trying to charge around her, to get at the intruder. “Easy there, handsome; she’s a… Easy there, boy.” To Aaliyah, firmly, she added, “You might want to back up a bit. You’re too close to me. He’s protective. And unicorns are aggressive to non-vir…gins.” She whipped back to Hodge, her face hot as she tried blocking the choked sob from her nemesis. “Back up! Back! Hodge, quit it!”

“Penrose!”

Hodge immediately diverted his aggression to Ezekiel Zickefoose upon his arrival into the glade, rearing up to spin around and charge. Penny opened her mouth to yell for Hodge to stop, choking on her words when a road flare sparked to life. 

Ezekiel waved it, roaring and yelling at the colt until he bolted for the woods.

“Hodge!” Penny abandoned Aaliyah, racing towards the treeline, but was caught around the middle. “Get off me!”

“No, Penrose,” Ezekiel scolded. “The cops are searching for you and that girl. You need to get back on the street before they start combing the woods.” He put his hands firmly on her shoulders. “That little spook won’t destroy what you have with that animal. Don’t worry. He’ll be back. Now, hurry up.”

There was another ten to fifteen minutes of snapping Aaliyah out of her shock and getting back to the neighborhood. It was another second after they set foot on the sidewalk near the Sizemore house before the police found them. The house was a swarm of lights, one of them being an ambulance.

Penny was separated from Aaliyah–no real loss–and taken away in a different car. The officers tried talking gently to her on the ride into town, but by this point her adrenaline was plummeting. She was doing all she could not to fall asleep. Tears pricked her eyes when she pictured Hodge’s wounded, frightened expression. Ezekiel was wrong for scaring him off how he did.

She was brought to a windowless room with a table and three uncomfortable, metal chairs. It looked every bit like the stereotypical interrogation rooms from random clips she had seen on the internet. She was given a bottle of water and then left alone. The room was too cold to sleep in despite her grogginess, and the chair too uncomfortable to bother attempting it.

A grizzled officer entered. He handed her a blanket and sat opposite of her with his beady eyes on his clipboard.

“We talked to Aaliyah,” he said. “She said she and Mr. Sizemore were having an affair. She apologizes for leading him on.”

“That’s bull–That isn’t what happened,” Penny said.

“I guessed as much.” He glanced over his clipboard. “Did he ever touch you?”

“Mostly ignored me… Guess I was lucky.” She straightened. “Why would Aaliyah say that?”

“Scared. I hear it a lot, unfortunately. Especially from kids like you two. Let’s see…. Did you mean to injure that man?”

Penny shrugged. “Is it bad? I don’t really remember it.”

“He’s not fathering any kids any time soon.” The officer’s mouth twitched but he quickly wiped his face back to neutral and stared at the clipboard. “There is a predicament with all this. You being a foster, and attacking your foster parent… we can’t exactly release you back to them. I tried contacting your caseworker, but she seemed…. Well, she answered the first call, and hasn’t gotten back to us.”

“Which means…?”

The old officer sighed heavily. “I suppose you go into holding until morning. Possibly the detention center after. Just until we get things sorted out.” He shook his head, his expression sour. “What a waste. Plucky little thing like you, we should give you a steak dinner and put you up in the best hotel for the night.”

There was not much comfort knowing she had done the right thing, not when faced with a long, cold, lonely night in a holding cell. She suspected it was more comfortable than the ones they kept adults, but that was not saying much. The cot was loosened bands between a frame; she had little choice but to be stuck hanging in the middle, and there was no real protection from the draft sweeping beneath all during the night.

She bounced between irritation at Aaliyah for failing to be truthful, and horrible, uncomfortable sadness at how things had turned out for her. Brooke popped into her mind often; Aaliyah’s charge that she had resented Penny went with it. She nearly drifted off, but whether due to all these bad thoughts or just the situation at hand, she would find herself snapping awake with a mingled image of Beth-Ann or Mr. Sizemore, both lying on the ground, sometimes both dead, sometimes both writhing.

The exhaustion kept her from fully processing that a young, female officer was standing in front of her cell with a tupperware similar to those used in airport security.

“I have your phone, a change of clothes, toothbrush, and we got you a bagel sandwich from down the street.” She opened the door and gently placed the tupperware on the floor. “There is someone here wanting to talk to you. Think you’ll be up for that in twenty to thirty? Give you a minute to change and eat?”

Penny didn’t respond, still staring blearily at the woman. She must’ve taken her silence for confirmation, because she left without pressing the issue. Penny could hear murmurs of her speaking to someone before the heavy door of the holding area cut off the sound.

She changed and was halfway through her sandwich before picking up her phone. Her heart dropped at the seventeen missed calls and forty-six unread texts from Colton. She cleared the calls and messages, scrolling to the most recent text at the bottom.

I deserve some kind of response. Ghosting me is immature.

Her jaw clenched, her hackles raising.

Sorry. I got arrested last night and didn’t have my phone until now.

The responses came in short and quick, expressing disbelief but not at her words, at the situation. News of her arrest had spread already. Then came the asking if she was okay, and the pleading for some kind of explanation. He went as far to ask if her decision had anything to do with witnessing Beth-Ann’s death, and expressed he could wait it out.

I thought about breaking up since before then. Hodge doesn’t like this dating thing. I’m never dating anyone.

The dots kept going and going, indicating Coton was doing a lot of typing. But, the response was short when it finally came through.

You’re breaking up because of your photoshop unicorn?

He’s real.

The dots moved again and again, before stopping with no reply.

She turned her phone off, sighing heavily.

“Ready for your visitor?”

“Sure,” she said, tucking away her phone.

It was not her caseworker that entered the holding area despite that making the most sense. It wasn’t Ezekiel Zickefoose or Aaliyah, or anyone she knew. It was an older than old stout woman holding herself up with a cane. She hobbled forward resolutely, and set a stern gaze upon Penny.

“I am Mrs. Adams. I was sent to negotiate your release to my employer, a Mr. Silas Javernick.”

“Should… should I know who that is,” Penny asked unsurely. “Is he famous? I’m not very good with remembering celeb—.”

“Straighten up, please, Penrose.” Penny straightened. “You do not know him, nor do I expect you to, but he knows of you. He was acquainted with your mother.”

“M-my moth–?”

“Yes. Your mother. I was quite clear.” Mrs. Adams gave her a look over. “I’ll have you sorted once you’re out of this miserable place. Will not take but a few hours.”

The arrival of Mrs. Adams, and her matter-of-fact stating that she would be released to someone that knew her mother was a level of surreal Penny was too tired to wrap her brain around. She sat on her uncomfortable bed, and finished her sandwich.

--------------------

Bowen Crabtree is a name I saw at baby gym and it was just too good not to use for fiction. I have no idea if the real one is a boy or girl. I was going to try to use it in the Beatrix and Wrenna books, but my first thought was of the loup garou, and I wanted something more traditionally Cajun. Crabtree has some Appalacian ties, so it worked better here. Which, Zickefoose is supposed to be a very distinctly Appaliacian surname that I've been avoiding until I got a "good guy". Eek and Bowen both were in chpt 2 raiding Aisling's drawers; Penny's insticts about the woman that was with Eek being Bowen is correct (because I want to use the name, lol).

The idea of Penny being "too pure" was always going to be a rift between her and others in the system. The reality is that people probably sense something kind of off about her so avoid her, particularly foul adults who would quickly gather she wasn't easy to mislead. It wasn't about purity or prettiness, that was just something other girls would grab at with how they'd been treated.

Penny being arrested for assult and sprung by Mrs. Adams was one of the big scenes fom her childhood, like the one with Hodge being upset she had a three second kiss, that was core to her.

It'll likely take me a few sessions to get all this down, but mostly because of the two kids balacing and me being unable to do a lotof movement. So, like with The Rant Session I'll put in the dates. This is being started on October 16th around noon. Here we go!

It's funny how different two years and eleven miles (by highway, I looked it up) changes things. And how some things stayed the same; namely that once more it was a girl and a c-section. I hadn't had a visit with my doctor for weeks, and that is one of my two complaints with her (the other being sometimes the bruskness, which I like, is too dismissive). My stress tests were all going well; these were testing to see if Vee was strong enough and healthy enough to endure labor, and if my body could handle it too. Because, unlike with Minn, she was in the correct, best position to go through labor. I had expressed immediately that I wanted to avoid another c-section, so every visit that was never brought up as any kind of option for whatever reason crazy women have when they get them electively.

During one of the visits when my doctor was gone, which she was gone most of the last two months so my exact visit isn't there at the top of my head, the ultrasound tech looked slightly pale and asked if my baby always measured big. I said she did, and it wasn't elaborated. The NP told me in the review of that ultrasound that Vee was estimated to be 7.1 pounds. I just went 'whoa... my older kid was born at 7.7, that's crazy'. They said the doctor will want to talk more about that later, especially after I casually mentioned my scar from Minn hurting almost all the time. That was another medical-person-went-pale and asked me to describe the pain. Mostly dull, some sharp if I stood too fast (or sometime stood period, it wasn't that consistient) or rolled over at night.

I didn't see the doctor until my last pre-scheduled visit on the 7th, exactly a week from due date. She started by asking what my thoughts were when I heard how big Vee was. Same answer as above; my first was born roughly that size. And she goes 'right, so, I need to check you, and I don't want to say it, but this could be a c-section'. She checks, and jut goes 'nope, nothing, you cannot go beyond your due date, she's too big'. Apparently, I was nowhere near ready body wise to have her within the week.

Now, I was not told why the doctor was so insistant because I didn't argue back. With my own research, and the increasingly smaller fragments of biology knowledge I still remember, I already pieced together the big fear was hemmorage. So, while I was not at all thrilled to do a c-section again, it was better than the ever increasing risk of bleeding out before I even got to labor, or bleeding out during labor. ...I still asked for the last possible day to delay it as long as I could, and was scheduled for the 13th.

(October 17th ~8:45AM): I mentioned in the chat that Minn's godmother was coming to help out since my mom was in London. The original plan was to have my sister come with me because she's my emergency contact (our mom is notorious for never answering the phone, checking texts, or even calling back) and that'd give Minn bonding time with her godmother since they don't see each other often. But, with my surgery set for 7:30, I had to arrive at 5--before labor the hospital opened, so we had to go through the ER--it was very complicated figuring out school buses and stuff of that nature. And the topper, my sister ended up with a cold coming on. Minn came to the hospital with us. My sister came by once she set up breakfast for her kids (my BIL had some sort of work thing so couldn't do the kids that morning) and picked her up. Then it was all prep for the 7:30 surgery. ...Which went significantly over.

I put a preview of that in the chat. The bruises! Standard protocol is nothing to drink after midnight, and my mouthful of water at 4AM was not enough to hydrate me to avoid the 'you're so dehydrated, the IV doesn't want to go in'. This place though, instead of seeming confused by my dehydration like the other hospital, just was all 'every c-section, all of them, sorry about the pain'. A little more comforting that they knew the side effects of no water after midnight.

The bigger of the two bruises is on my right arm. That was from labs. They took two or three vials (probably because when they're asking if you have such and such they want to double check you didn't lie and cause some kind of reaction or contanimation). I was pretty hopeful when the needle went in. It hurt, but I was thinking 'yes that single mouthful of water helped'. And apparently, that would have been where the IV would have gone if I was hydrated. The lady kept squeezing blood out, like juicing me, to fill the vials. It got worse and worse pain wise and volumn wise until she just went 'yeah, no IV here, but hopefully that's enough blood for labs'. Thankfully (and I know this from genetic lab a million years ago) you don't need a heck of a lot, so that worked out. On the back of my right hand is a barely noticable greenish bruise from a failed IV attempt. I told her once that one fail to please avoid going into my wrist joint, so she went to get someone else to help. The failed attempts were starting to set us back.

(October 19th ~11:00AM) The second lady found "a juicy vein" in my left arm, which it the second large bruise from the pictures. It blew out almost immediately, and she just kept saying sorry over and over. Not just because it hurt, but because now we were further behind schedule. Luckily, the last attempt on my left hand worked or I would've been looking at a wrist joint. That thing did not go in lightly, and kept trying to pop out. I was supposed to get two IVs of fluids to rehydrate me before surgery, and now that we were well beyond 7:30, those needed pressure sleeves to force the fluid into my hand/body faster. Drinking from your hand is already a weird experience (that I don't really hate, especially being that dehydrated) but gulping is much weirder. And I'm naked at this point, so got cold very quick with the cold fluids going in that fast.

I was dragged off to the OR to get the spinal, and the OR is even colder, so I just started shaking. And me being how I am, I'm just going 'I hope they know this is from being cold'. Which my spinal guy did, because at one point he just went and got a hot blanket from under the heater and put it on my arms. That was enough to stop the shaking. That guy was an odd man that may've been a tad on the spectrum in the way that all the best weirdos are. We probably would've be friends as teens or something.

The spinal this time was not as horrifying as with Minn. It hurt much worse though. Because Vee was so heavy, my spine was very compressed. It was a slower process, with several stops due to the pressure getting to be too much, and a lot of small popping noises of going through my spinal discs. It was just after 8AM at this point. My doctor just goes 'throw her down, they're going to throw you down'. She was already through a few layers before they went to fetch Minn's godmother. She was brought in just in time for Vee to be pulled out at 8:08. And unlike Minn, she made a cry. Not the type in the movies, just the one, and a second when they went to go cut the cord (Minn's godmother got to do it, I think my mom declined with Minn because it freaked her out, lol). They had me see her a second, and then my doctor was like 'okay that's enough, let's stitch her up'. Which I actually appreciated because with Minn there was the awkwardness of my arm starting to numb from the spinal, and they wouldn't take her away until I told them too, but I wasn't sure if I was supposed to tell them too, and the whole time your guts are on tables waiting to go back in. I was shut up in maybe 15 minutes, also much less than the last time.

I forgot to mention that I was given a form before surgery to consent or deny that Hep shot. Easy enough, just sign deny and no one brought it up again or lied about what it was for or tried talking me into it. The form came with a packet on what it was, and the consent to had a big block of text that probably was about side effects. I didn't read it since I was declining. Don't need my newborn vaccinated against a sexual transmitted disease.

I tasked Minn's godmother to follow Vee around, but the ward was really open so there wasn't as much need to hover. Lots of glass walls for the nursery. She went there only for visits with her assigned doctor, for all her glucose tests and other blood lettings, and then for a bath. I went with her for the bath. I never saw how they did them on newborns because I was so done with the other hospital that I wouldn't let them near Minn more than I could help it at that point.

Vee was born with low glucose which was due to her being large. She had a drop after she was detached, so needed 4 or 5 tests to make sure she was stable. She showed improvement on test 2, improved to a stable level on 3, and 4 and 5 were the same as 3. One reason my mom suspects that the doctor didn't do everything in the room like with Minn is because this hospital is Catholic and the other was secular. Minn and Vee both had male doctors assigned to them. Vee's was 1000% better. (Bonus, he was from PA and grew up around a bunch of Poles, so not only knew how to say my last name with a slight accent, but knew both clans that went into making my last name and could pronounce them.) Vee's doctor is the person who finally gave me exactly what I've been asking since Minn was born: a number on how much a newborn could eat.

If you remember, I knew something was wrong with feeding Minn, and I was just constantly shown a button all the nurses wore and told 'her stomach is the size of a grape, just a few drops is fine'. And it turned out to be very not fine. Vee's doctor told me '30ml, maybe 35ml, but if she spits up that's too much'. And he told me what the lactation consultants at this place told me 'boob first, then do formual so you can gage how much you're making, you'll watch the formal start to not be touched much at all one you're producing more'. Formula was never on the table at the other place because I checked exclusively brestfeeding. I checked that this time too, but told them my concerns (last time my concerns were the same too since my sister and mom both had issues), so they kept formal in the mix if I started going 'nope, something isn't right'.

Right now, Vee is mostly formula and nearing 60ml already. I'm not doing boob first like suggested because I just cannot figure out how to get her latched they way the consultants showed me, and we both get frusterated. So, I pump and put it in a bottle mostly. I let her latch on when she wanting just comfort and not so much food. She's much less likely to hurt me being too hungry, and it sort of counts as pumping. The hope is to make enough to get her exclusively on boob via bottle, but I've already made peace with it being okay if it isn't that exclusive. ...20% formula is my limit, lol. (October 23 edit ~11:45) She's hitting 90ml sometimes and about half or more are mixed formula and milk. I have two 60ml in the fridge right now waiting for a 30ml shot of formula. So, yeah, better progress this time around.

But, I'm skipping ahead to some warm and fuzzies. Let's go back and talk about the gore!

(October 20th ~10:30 - we made it a week!) After I was put back together, I asked how long I wouldn't be able to move my legs. They told me 'you'll get feeling back in an hour, by three you should be okay to stand' or something to that effect. Which was shocking because it was 8 hours last time. They did have my legs wrapped in these weird compression things that pulsated. That kept my muscles going for me (and they didn't come in constantly to move my legs around for me like last time).

Having an entirely female staff was a weird highlight. I already did all this being cut open and totally helpless thing, naked for a few days on end, smelling awful from everything going on. And I did it with a handful of men being right there on hand up in my situation. So, it was kind of surprising to me when I realized I saw a total of 3 men the whole time, and none in my room except for the two visits from Vee's doctor (and he announced hmself and paused to make sure it was okay to enter). And those other two were more like one and a quarter. My spinal guy's shift ended right as they were stitching me up, and his relief was also a guy. I think I saw him less than five minutes. So, yeah, there was an extra layer of chill that I think came from the staff being all women that I didn't connect until after I was getting ready to leave. (And I struggle with female friendships so that's saying something.)

My first night was the same with the zero sleep. You're woken up too often by your staff and the baby's staff coming to check things out. That first day and night I was constantly offered oxy, which I denied each time. I was just going 'wow they're really pushing it' because the other place didn't give me any, they just prescribed it for when I left. I was going 'no I'm good with the two extra strength tylonal and one motrin, just like before'. But, by that first night I started to realize this was not like before at all.

(October 21 ~10:30) My legs had full function within the 3 hour window I was given, but I couldn't seem to move. A t this point, I didn't need to stand up except that I was supposed to be since I was still hooked up to everything (no bathroom trips) and Minn's godmother was on top of taking care of Vee. Moreso when part of the reason I couldn't move was conneced to my attempts to feed her.

The pain was excrutiating. Not the boobs, my guts. Biology hat on a sec: when you start brestfeeding your uterus contracts. After birth or a c-section, when everything is still stretched and a little angry, this feels like period cramps. The degree varies. These cramps started out like the worst period I've ever had in my life, and worse than the saline ultrasounds (the first check when you're doing IUI or In Vitro to make sure everything looks good) which had already passed the worst period cramps ever. It was debilitation, nausiatingly painful where I'd be completely tensed up, eyes shut tight and teeth clenched. So... not good for brestfeeding at all, lol.

By that night, everything was removed so I would need to stand and walk to the bathroom. And while I did, it was a shuffle and more, and more pain. And it was worse after I fed her, because then I felt sick from the pain like I needed to go to the bathroom just in case I threw up. Minn's godmother offered to call a nurse for a barf bag at one point so I wasn't trying to scramble, walk, stand, whatever, because there was no way I could.

My night nurse got me to take one step forward and one to the side as a first movement before all this, and I found out that I could side step to the right (or drag my foot half and inch) but could not at all go left. (October 22 ~9AM) At one point, while trying to feed Vee, I just said something about how this was so much worse than with Minn pain wise. Because, with her, it took 8 hours for feeling to come back, but I was left alone at night and was up doing all sorts of stuff. And I was constantly trying to feed her. The pain there was because there was zero milk and almost no colostrum, so she was essentuially drinking my blood. Minn's godmother ended up saying something about the pain difference to the night nurse, and she explained that because they were messing around with scar tissue, and because Vee was large, everything was just going to hurt much worse this time. I was stretched too much on a scar, so it would take harder and heavier contractions to try to put it all back together again. And it suddenly made sense why they kept looking at me like I was nuts for refusing the oxy.

I had at least four different people explain the oxy, all from a different area; lactation, nurse, doctor, the nurse specific for my vitals. I think even the nursery nurse at one point. Did a internet search. Asked Claude AI. Eventually, sometime during the following day, I took one. It was just enough that I could get up and hobble to the bathroom.

The oxy they give you every 4 hours, unless you request it. They only give it to you at request (or at least me because I freaked out so much about it). I think I took 3 or 4 while I was there, and even though everyone talked about 5mg not being enough to pass through to milk, I still had Vee eat formula only for a feed or two after I took it. Following day, the 15th, I was able to get around with none.

I now have two bottles, one from Minn and one from Vee, still in the Walgreens bags tucked up at the top of my cabinet for emergencies. (Like when you smash your finger in a door so the tip is crushed and you almost lose the whole thing... because that happened right after I explained to my dad why I didn't just toss them. He refused to take one, but I have them on hand for things like that.)

(October 23 ~noon) My memory is getting fuzzy with it now being over a week and nothing egregious happening like the last time. The tired is coming for me, lol. There's random things like Minn first meeting Vee I was sure to have my arms free so she could see me and just me, and then got introduced. ...The following day she didn't care to see me at all and went right for her sister. She's doing very well, but is way too overstimulated and gets little break downs wanted to both be the attention and to be affectionate to her sister at the same time. But, all that's normal. I keep telling her we're going to have a lot more fun in a few weeks when I can pick her up, and drive, and just be more normal.

Part of me thinks that's really the harder part, not so much as now she has a sister, but I can't do anything. She's having way too much TV time (my dad's version of hanging out and watching her) and that's making her act up too since it's just more stimulation on top of a stimulating experience. But, she does get to go out with her Memere alone to stores or hang out with her cousins at sushi. She got to go to baby gym Wednesday, and my mom said she'll bring her this coming Wednesday too for her last one. Then, we're on pause until January. Unless the sick is really bad. Then I might extend to Feb.

But, yep, I think that's about it. If I remember more random stuff worth mentioning, I'll just drop it in the chat.