"She just wanted to draw," Julie says. "She didn't want to do anything else. Sometimes, she could be convinced to play dress-up, but over and over, time and time again, it was the drawing. She wouldn't eat unless she could draw at the same time – she'd just cry and have meltdowns that could last the entire day, sometimes longer. It was a matter of understanding how to work with her, so she could get things done. It was easier as she got older."
"It sounds like she was just throwing tantrums," Hecate frowns.
Julie looks unusually stern as she speaks, "It wasn't a tantrum. Mildred barely understood what manipulation was when she was ten, let alone four. You're her teacher, haven't you noticed the way she behaves is different from others?"
Hecate struggles to answer, even though her mind – surprisingly – easily draws upon examples. Mildred's study habits are the most colourful of her peers'. Hecate has often caught her drawing out ingredients, drawings that animate themselves when Mildred isn't looking – and when she is looking, she doesn't even seem to realise what she's done. Maybe she thinks it's in her head, Hecate wonders.
"Mildred braids her hair," Julie says, "she'll do it the same way for months. Those two braids she's had since she started Cackle's haven't changed once, that I can think of."
"She did in the showcase," Hecate says, before she can change her mind. Julie looks at her in surprise.
"Millie what, now?"
Hecate grimaces upon realising she'll have to explain. As if my reputation hasn't gone to the frogs, already. "She and her...accomplices impersonated teachers. She...pretended to be me. Very well, in fact."
"Good old Millie," Julie laughs a little, "I wished I could see. She could have been an actress, if she wanted to – she's very good at mimicking."
"As I recall," Hecate replies. "Is that part of her..."
"Autism? Yeah. She doesn't do it often, but when she does, she gets it done good and proper. She probably practiced for hours in a mirror to get you down to pat."
For some reason, the visual of Mildred Hubble standing in front of mirror pretending to be her makes Hecate feel embarrassed – the warm kind, like someone had just praised her for something she'd done. It reminds her of when she gets letters from those that had read her latest potions or runes disquisition, but this is stronger by far, even what she felt during and after the showcase.
"I asked you because you're kind of...sensitive. Also, you wear the same design of clothes every time I see you. You're pretty closed up, too."
"I do not know how to reply to your..." Allegations seems too strong a word. "...suspicions."
"Have a think about it," Julie offers, "Or even ask Mildred – privately, mind. It's something she tries to keep quiet, around kids her age."
"Maybe," Hecate says distantly, once again wondering how to make such a thing happen. Could I invite her to my office without making anyone suspicious...wait, no. That would never work. Even just a rumour could inspire another silly article. A detention could work, provided Mildred can keep her mouth shut. "What do you do about it?"
"Do about it? Nothing, really, unless your functioning is severely compromised. Systems work, provided the systems work with the person and don't completely block out everything they need. Mildred draws and paints – you should have seen her revision portfolio," Julie stands abruptly, "Just a minute. I think she left her old one at home over the holidays, actually."
"You don't-" Hecate starts, but Julie is already gone. Sighing, Hecate waits, eyes falling on the Hubble Cloak again, before she forces her gaze elsewhere – to the tetrahedron. Curious as to what it might be, Hecate picks it up gently, feeling the magical enchantments, still in place but far from working. Runes, Hecate predicts, using her magic to reach into the small, palm-sized device, tensing as the three-sided artefact opens, a bubble appearing.
For a moment, it's just a bubble – then, it fills with colour and there's an image of a strangely familiar woman, singing to a child on her lap. To Hecate's surprise, the singing rings out softly in the real world.
'Moon and stars, dark blue night,
I am watching you sleep.
Child of mine you are safe from harm,
Mama's here in your slumber, deep.
So, close your eyes, fly away,
The Moon is shining so bright.
Lullaby, stars and night,
Sleep, you're safe with me tonight!'
"That's beautiful," Julie says as the tetrahedron closes. "A lullaby?"
"A lullaby bubble, meant for children when their parents go on long journeys," Hecate replies, before frowning. Why was that women so familiar? Opening it again, she lets the lullaby play out once more, narrowing her eyes as she looks sharply at the women with the child.
"What's wrong?"
"...I believe your daughter- or rather, Miss Darkside, has some explaining to do."