I'm so glad this story is getting views, I hope you're all enjoying it! And a little fun fact to go with this, after some in-depth research I have discovered that I actually share my birthday with Sarah Noyes Hale. How weird is that?!

Also I'm trying to keep this as historically accurate as possible while still keeping the time line logical to the ages so just bear with me please? Thanks!

It didn't take long for the trials to start full throttle, and Sarah was glad to play a semi active role in it all.

While John worked with the Judge and Mr. Cheever, the newly appointed court clerk, Sarah handled the girls and anyone else who happened to be disturbed by the new found evil.

She would keep a log of every person accused and a brief summary of the crimes, and offer comfort for the aggrieved children afflicted.

A few seemed uncomfortable talking about the attacks, and a few claimed that they could not remember certain details.

Sarah was glad to do this job, acting as confidant and comforter to the afflicted and the tormented.

It seemed Abigail Williams was the most clear-headed of the girls, as she could recall nearly every detail of her attacks.

One afternoon in the first week of the trials Goody Putnam arrived at the door of the home, little Ruth in hand. The red headed child looked ill at ease and antsy.

"Goody Hale?" she knocked in and Sarah looked up to find the two in the doorway.

"Goody Putnam…" She set aside her knitting and smiled welcomingly. "And little Ruth, how good to see you."

She stood and motioned them into the home and closed the door, despite it being an exceedingly warm day.

"Please, sit." She insisted, "May I offer you something to drink? It's dreadfully hot out today."

"No, thank you. I wonder if you would talk to my Ruth, I fear something is a-gnawing at her mind."

Sarah eyed the child and nodded with a comforting smile. "I would be happy to. Ruth?" she knelt down a bit to be on the child's level. "Do you have anything you would like to talk about?"

Ruth eyed her but kept her lips seal, and instead casting her eyes uncertainly up at her mother.

Sarah caught the meaning of the look and nodded. "Mrs. Putnam, I wonder if I might have a moment alone with Ruth. If you don't mind?"

Goody Putnam seemed a little miffed at the very idea of being left out of the conversation but she nodded and pushed Ruth forward before leaving the house.

"Would you like to sit down Ruth?" she asked and the little girl paused before accepting a seat, watching Sarah sit in the other chair and take up her knitting again. "Now, your mother thinks there is something bothering you. Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

The girl swallowed and looked down demurely. "No, ma'am."

"Alright." Sarah nodded content and Ruth looked up, surprised that she didn't press for more information. Her mother practically hounded her for any scrap of knowledge she had and that only made Ruth clam up more.

She hated it when her mother and Father thought she was hiding something, because even if she wasn't they made her feel as though she had done something wrong.

She looked at this woman and tried not to stare.

She was a pretty woman, not very young but not old like Goody Osborne or Goody Good either.

From what she could see she had fair reddish brown hair like Ruth herself, and a round face with full cheeks and pouting lips that were pulled to the side in a curious, contemplative look, as though she was thinking over something that didn't seem quite right.

"Goody Hale, may I ask you something?" she braved and Sarah looked at her passively.

"Of course" She nodded calmly and continued her knitting steadily.

"What will happen to the people in the Jail?" She asked and Sarah froze in her movement before swallowing.

"Well…" she sighed. "They will be tried and if they are found guilty they will sit in the jail for a time until they confess."

"But what if they don't confess?"

"Then it up to the courts to decide what is to happen to them." She put it vaguely, not wanting to have to tell a child that they could very well be hanged for witchcraft.

"Goody Hale, do you think if a person does something bad and then repents on it, God will still love them?"

This question seemed particularly weighty on the girl's heart and Sarah could hear it in her voice. Setting aside the work Sarah smiled and motioned for the girl to stand.

"Come hither child."

Ruth obeyed and stood before Sarah who smiled a little, stroking her soft, pale cheeks with a warm hand.

"Ruth, it is not for us to decide what The Lord thinks. But I believe that no matter what, no person is beyond redemption in the eyes of God. And if a person really truly repents on their bad deeds, then God will still be in their heart." She took the girl's hands and held them gently. "Do you know that, Ruth?"

Ruth nodded, a light of understanding in her eyes. "I think so. Thank you Goody Hale."

"You're welcome. Shall we bring your mother in now?"

Ruth nodded again and Sarah stood and opened the front door where Goody Ann waited impatiently.

"I think Ruth's mind is at ease now Goody Putnam, there is no need to worry" She beckoned Ruth who took her mother's hand.

"Oh thank you." Goody Putnam breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Ruth, I want you to head back to the house now, and don't dawdle. Straight home."

The girl obeyed quickly and Goody Putnam took Sarah's hands, "What did she say to you? Has she been attacked again?"

"Ruth is fine, Mrs. Putnam, just fine." Sarah soothed her. "She is a true Christian child, even when they had wrong her she worries for the souls of those in the Jail. She fears God will not love them anymore."

"What did you tell her?" Goody Putnam inquired, worried what lessons her daughter may have learned outside her knowledge.

"I told her that if a person truly repents on their evil deeds then they are not beyond redemption, no one is."

Mrs. Putnam seemed satisfied with this and thanked her once more before leaving, nearly bumping into Abigail Williams on the way out as the girl approached the house.

"Good Marrow Goody Hale." Abigail smiled and Sarah nodded at her.

"Abigail, what brings you here?"

"I thought I would bring you something to say thank you." Abigail smiled and offered her a small sweet wrap in a cloth pouch.

It was a small cake just barely an inch long by an inch wide and was blackish blue in color with a white powder on top.

"My mother taught me to make them…before she died I mean." Abigail added the last part sadly and Sarah's eyes softened.

"Abigail, if there is ever anything you wish to speak on. You are welcome here, do you understand?" Sarah asked and gently pushed the girl's chin up with her palm.

She was a lovely girl, with large dark eyes and a pretty face.

Sarah was almost reminded of her own sister, whom she hadn't seen for years.

"I ought to get back, I should be with Betty now." Abigail smiled sheepishly and nodded to the cake. "I hope you enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will, Good day to you Abigail." Sarah waved her off as she turned back for the village, waiting until she was out of sight before re-entering the house.

How could someone bare to hurt these children? She though with a shake of her head.

She tried to understand what could make a person turn from God so far that they were face to face with Satan, but she could not for the life of her.

She remembered the first witch she ever saw, a woman in her home town of Charlestown by the name of Margaret Jones. She had been a midwife who was accused of witchcraft when Sarah was ten years old, and she witnessed the execution with her mother and father.

She had not known it at the time but John had been there as well, as he was born and raised in Charleston as well.

In her young mind, Sarah didn't understand how a person could do good deeds and yet be bound to the Devil, but she would come to accept it soon enough.

She and John met and married not too long after John's first wife, Rebecca, died of illness and Sarah always knew he had loved her dearly.

It is always a difficult thing, to enter a marriage with someone who has already traveled down that path.

Sarah, at first, was afraid that she would not be able to live up to Rebecca's memory, that she would forever be compared to her husband's dead wife in his mind.

But it was soon clear that John wanted no such thing; all he wanted was a companion, someone to share his home with.

Her devotion to God drew him to her, and the passion he gave when he was preaching to the congregation enraptured her senses.

And his mind fascinated her, the keenest of wit and cleverness.

Before she met John, Sarah's reading skills were nearly non-existent due to her weak eye sight that made small print in books blurry and unfocused. She would strain her eyes until her head was pounding just to read a few pages.

One evening John asked her what was ill as he witnessed her twisting her face into frustration as she sat with the bible in her lap.

After blushing with embarrassment she admitted to him that she could not understand the passages because she could not see them, she had always depended on a member of her family or the minister to read from the bible so she could hear it.

With amused understanding He took the book from her and read to her the Book of Exodus in one night.

As she stirred a pot of stew for that evening's supper she eyed the small sweet on the table.

Maybe just a taste, she thought and reached for the cake.

She took a bite that took up half the cake and savored the sweet taste of the berries, though it was unfamiliar to her.

She finished off the tiny cake and went back to stirring the stew until she slowly felt a strangeness over take her.

She felt her body warming up considerably and her mouth was terribly dry.

Making for the water pitcher on the table she stumbled and grasped the handle of the pitcher and struggled to pour the water into the tin cup.

Her arms were weak and as she tried to lift it she stumbled once more over her own feet and the pitcher clattered to the floor, spilling the water on the wood.

She needed air.

Pale and dizzy she made for the door and heard the sounds of horse hooves and the rattle of a carriage.

The room was hellishly hot now, but she felt not a drop of sweat on her skin as it burned and crawled.

She looked around her as the room seemed to spin like a top, the sound of the hooves grew deafeningly loud, and as did every noise she heard until they all pounded in her head like a demonic symphony.

"Sarah, I'm home…"

John entered the house merrily just in time to watch his wife, flushed and writhing, tumble to the floor…