A/N: This story is slightly A/U. Robert Ewell does not die on the night he attacks the Finch children.

Mayella Ewell gazed tiredly over the trash heap in her family's backyard, watching as her seven brothers and sisters ran between tires, jumped off of broken dressers, played with abandoned jump ropes that had been neatly sewn back together by her. This was her world.

She had had ambitions…once…when her mother had been alive three years ago. Her father had been different then. A bit distant from his family, but kind enough. But when Mrs. Ewell had died, he changed dramatically. Robert E. Lee Ewell turned to drinking and gambling. He had tried to find another wife, but he had let himself go too far. His reckless behavior had cost him his proper home on Maycomb's main street; it had cost him his job, not to mention his chance at another relationship.

And on those drunken nights, he cursed women and said they were all snobs who put on airs and didn't care about anything but social status. There was still—something—Bob Ewell wanted, however, especially when he was drunk. Something he could only get from a woman. And there was only one substitute for the woman (any woman would do) he couldn't have.

And it was this that had broken Mayella Ewell. 'It' had started a little before her fifteenth birthday, when her father had come home, drunk and stumbling. He was cursing about a woman who had avoided him on the sidewalk and calling her names that Mayella had never heard before. And then…

Mrs. Ewell had never taught her oldest daughter about certain things, and Mayella did not know what to do. She didn't know what her father did to her was wrong, but it terrified and hurt her. And, frankly, she felt shame and repulsion at herself, though she didn't understand what was happening.

Now all her life was despair, especially after her father had attacked Atticus Finch's children. Scout and Jem Finch had not been killed; Someone had pulled Robert Ewell away from them. But assault—and the fact that Robert Ewell had broken Jem's arm—had sent him to jail for five years.

At least now her father's relief checks couldn't be spent on liquor. With that, and what she managed to grow in the Ewell's front yard, was just enough, only enough, to keep her family fed.

The five years passed and the day of her father's release dawned on a damp, rainy morning. The fear that Mayella had kept at bay during the security of her father's imprisonment came back. And it only took moments for that fear to be realized. When Mr. Ewell came home that night, the darkness she felt was worse than the darkness of the moonless sky outside.

Thank God that the children were asleep.

"Hello, Mayella, darling," he said as he entered the house. "Where's my girl that can help me forget those high-headed, sanctimonious brats in town, the holier-than-thou men and the women who look down on someone who made a mistake?"

Mayella knew what was coming, but years of fearing this day sent a strength through her she never possessed. Her father was clawing at her, grabbing her, tearing a sleeve of her dress off in the process.

With a savage burst of pure adrenaline, Mayella sent him crashing to the floor. And then she ran…ran to the only person who had shown her the slightest mercy. Over those five years she had reflected on that day in court…

Atticus Finch had never meant to humiliate her. He had been as kind as possible. And in those years when she had been free from fear of her father, Mayella realized how deeply she had wronged Tom Robinson. She often felt guilty about his death, but there had been no one to talk to…no one…

But this was not in her mind now. She found herself at the Finch's house and began to pound desperately on the door. The door soon opened, and Atticus opened it, staring when he saw who was at the door.

Wordlessly he brought Mayella in.

"Miss Ewell, what's wrong?" he asked—though he knew very well.

"My…father…he tried to…r—to hurt me!" Mayella sobbed.

Atticus went to the telephone.

"Sheriff? I need you to go to Bob Ewell's house. Now."

Scout Finch—14 years old

That same evening

It was an unusually warm night in May. In my bed, I was restless, staring at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep but the warm, damp air seemed to stick to me. And then vaguely, I heard a strangely familiar voice sobbing. My mind searched for the answer. Where had I heard that voice before?

And then my mind flashed back to that day in court when Mayella had laid out her case of lies. Jem had never forgiven her, yet eventually I felt pity for the impoverished, desperate, and (I realized as I got older) abused girl.

I crept to the front room, where Mayella sitting in the rocker, shaking and sobbing. Her hair was tangled, her dress torn.

"My father…attacked me." Mayella was nearly choking on what to say. Yet instinctively I knew what had happened to her, despite my young age.

Feeling almost as if I wasn't in control of my actions, I went to Mayella and gently touched her shoulder. She startled and both she and Atticus looked at me for the first time. I gave Mayella a worried look and her expression was one of surprise. I thought Atticus would send me back to bed, but he didn't. My arms went around Mayella's shoulders and she broke down in tears. I felt distraught—how could a fourteen-year-old girl with a loving father comfort a young woman whose father had…

"Can I get you something to drink? I can make a right smart tea," I said.

"S-s-sure, J-Jean Louise," Mayella sobbed.

"Call me Scout," I said.

When I returned with the tea, Heck Tate had arrived and was questioning Mayella. She told the whole story and I stood there, my heart breaking for her. I still despised what she had done to Tom Robinson, but I no longer blamed her for his death. And seeing her here, looking like a broken, tattered flower, I felt more pity than ever. I felt as if I could go right down to Mr. Ewell's place with Atticus's gun and…

No. Death was too good for people like him.

After the sheriff had left, I gave Mayella the cup of tea—ginger cinnamon, Calpurnia's specialty. Her influence, and even that of Aunt Alexandria and Miss Maudie, had not entirely pushed me into the domestic arts, but I knew how to make a dandy tea and cookies and even Lane cake…

"This is r-r-really good, Scout," Mayella said shakily. "Scout, how can you be so nice to me after what I did to Tom Robinson and what my fa—what Mr. Ewell tried to do to you and Jem?"

Her words echoed in my ears. Mayella felt remorse for what she had done.

"Because…you didn't deserve what…what happened to you and I know you've had a really hard life."

For just a moment Mayella gave me a smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Thank you, Scout. You're so sweet."

Mayella spent the night in my bedroom, she on the bed and I on a cot. I held her hand until she fell into a fitful sleep. And for the first time, I was glad that Jem was at college. If he knew Mayella was our guest (though refugee seemed a more appropriate word) there was no telling what he might say. He hated Mr. Ewell most of all but he hated Mayella, too.

One week later

I found myself on the balcony in the courtroom again, once again watching a trial play before my eyes. It did not take long for the jury to make a decision. Mayella's testimony and Heck Tate's description of Mayella's state of mind and body that night had turned everyone against Mr. Ewell more soundly than ever. Nobody had really believed Mayella's testimony about Tom—though that didn't stop them from wrongly convicting him—but there was no doubting her sincerity this time.

Atticus played the final card and made Mr. Ewell break. He admitted that he had been attacking Mayella in that way almost since the week after her mother's death.

And death was what Mr. Ewell would receive in turn.

I felt no pity for him and as he was led out of court in handcuffs, I gave him a look of pure venom, though he could not see my face.

I didn't care so much what he had tried to do to me and Jem, since that attack had been stopped by Arthur Radley. And now it seemed almost like a childish prank compared to what Mayella had had to go through.

What mattered now was that Robert E. Lee Ewell couldn't hurt her anymore.

The following month

"Dinner's on! Lily, you know that cake's for after dinner. Joey, stop jumping on the furniture!"

I grinned at Mayella, who was routing her four youngest siblings: Lily, Joey, Adam, and Carrie. The older children had been adopted, but Mayella couldn't bear to part with the four youngest. Lily was the oldest of all at only six years old. I didn't mind, either, for it was like having two little brothers and two little sisters.

Mayella had come to stay with us as our housekeeper.

A year after the Tom Robinson case, Calpurnia had pursued a position in Nashville. She wanted to get out of this sleepy town, she said, promising to write us often. A myriad of housekeepers had come in and out, none of them proving satisfactory.

Mayella was a capable housekeeper and proved herself a very good cook, despite having so little resources not long ago. I knew she hadn't ever cooked anything fancier than a broiled racoon, but she could make turkey roasts, hot soups, and other savory dishes with surprising ease.

So she and her four young siblings stayed with us.

Even Jem, upon a visit home from college, had forgiven her upon learning about her fate and seeing how wonderful she was with those children. He believed me when I told him about Mayella's remorse.

Mayella asked me to help her learn to read and write and she proved an apt pupil. I wondered what Miss Caroline would think about a girl barely in her teens teaching a young woman basic lessons. I enjoyed teaching, however, and I wondered if I wouldn't rather be a teacher than a lawyer.

One night I heard Mayella sobbing in her room (the children shared a room across the hall). I tiptoed in and saw Mayella at her desk, writing frantically but sobbing.

"Mayella?" I said quietly.

"Oh…hello, Scout," she said shakily.

"What's the matter? You're not still upset about your writing, are you? You've gotten really good!"

Nothing could have prepared me for the answer.

"N-no. I'm writing a letter to…Helen Robinson…to apologize…"

It was then that my pity for Mayella turned to respect.

She showed me the letter, asking me if she should correct anything. Except for a few spelling mistakes and incorrect pronouns, it was surprisingly good for a woman who had barely been to school in her life. Indeed, it brought tears to my eyes.

Dear Mrs. Robinson,

I am sure that you don't want to hear from me. I am guilty for causing Mr. Robinson to be wrongly jailed. I know he was a good man. He never tried to hurt me, even when I touched him in a way I shouldn't have. He never spoke bad of me. He was very kind to me in court even though he was speaking up for himself. I am very sorry for what I have done. I am so sorry that even if I got to be a good writer I couldn't say how sorry I was.

I am not asking for you to forgive me.

I just wanted to say I'm sorry.

-Mayella Ewell

Atticus had said that you really didn't know a person until you walked around in his shoes. I had walked around in Mayella's shoes and realized the darkness of her life, though I would never fully fathom the fear and damage it had done to her.

I smiled at Mayella.

"That's a beautiful letter…my sister."

A/N #2: I always felt sorry for Mayella (as Atticus did) and hoped that someday she'd find redemption. This is my take.