Disclaimer: I don't own the characters…even though they are amazing!

Note: Again PLEASE R/R

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"That poor boy" Whispered InaMuller looking out the kitchen window, she began to set bread on the table. Cautiously she glanced up at her mother who had tears rolling down her aged cheeks.

"This is my fault Ina. This is my fault" she too began to stare out the window. She saw that rebellious teenager staring at her daughter's grave. "No! It's his fault! It's that boy's fault!"

"Well Mama, I don't know if that's fair to say. I mean he didn't ra…"

"Rape her? Oh yes he did. That boy rapped my baby girl. My baby. My little Wendla. My precious little Wendla." She opened up the window and stuck her head out. The day was just awakening and flowers began to spring from the Earth.

"Mama, don't! Yelling at that boy won't do anything. He's been through enough already. You know he has."

"Enough. That boy has not been through anything!" she began to speak, but was cut off by her eldest daughter's stern look.

"No, you know he's had enough. You just can't come to face the truth. Mama, you are the reason Wendla died, you and that doctor." She put her hand on her mother's trembling shoulder. "But Mama, it'll be okay, only if you stop torturing that poor boy" her mother stood up, and quietly left the room.

Ina stared out the window. She had awoken in the middle of the night to that boy's yelling. That's when he had probably come across her sister's grave. As much as she hated him, she knew it wasn't his fault. She also new she had to convince her mother that. But in the meantime, she couldn't help but wonder. Why did that boy just sit there? What was he doing? Why wasn't he moving?

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There was a knock on the Gabor's door. Fanny meandered to the door and opened it. As she did the scrawny Pastor Skinnytum lifted his hat. He had always been a gentleman.

"My dear Fanny, I was wondering. Perhaps, may I have a word with you" He hadn't been to her house since the day her son had left. No one had been there since the day he had left.

"Yes. Please, come in. Come in!" she ushered his wet body inside—it must be raining she pondered.

"It would seem that your young Melchior has returned to town, and I must assume that his reappearance was unplanned, am I right?" Fanny Gabor stared shocked.

"Here. My son is here. In this town?"

"Yes, Frau Gabor, I wanted to talk to you about that. We—the town—the church believe it may be best, if he where to leave."

"Excuse me?" she said in disbelief and pure shock.

"I mean, with obvious past events we believe that, well—I'm sure you know what we assume. Now, I'm not accusing you of anything, but how did he get back here? That's what we would like to know. When was the last time you heard from him?"

"My Melchior is at that awful reformatory school that your church made him go to! He is not home. Now please, if you will, I do wish for you to leave. Your presence is by no means welcomed here!" She stood up from her chair.

"Fanny, if you would please let me…"

"Now Herr Skinnytum, go!" she watched as he left through her front door, and then she quickly slammed it. Could it be true, could her precious baby really be home? Already?