Thank you to Rachel420, TheKatanaMistress, Wolf Lover 06, Bumbletwin, Souxie 2.0, mrspencil, gothic girl, and WeWantTheRedhead for their kind reviews!

Sally could hear Edgar squawking from her room. She rubbed her eyes and looked out the window. Dawn had barely broken, but she could see in the dim light ghouls heading towards the graveyard.

"An arrival," she murmured to herself. She quickly hurried to the stairs, pausing just long enough to make sure Dr. Finklestein hadn't been disturbed by the noise before sneaking down the stairs and out the front door.

Arrivals were rare and revered events. About twice a year, a ghoul would be found in the graveyard that no one had ever seen before. Usually, the ghoul was unconscious and wouldn't wake up until a day later, but every so often a ghoul would wake up immediately and begin wandering around Halloween Town with no idea of where they were. Only one of those had happened within Sally's memory. Tet had been found huddled behind the Witches' House – too frightened and disoriented to realize that Abigail was offering him help. Doctor Finklestein had been sent for with some nightshade to calm him down and had brought the little mummy to live with them for a few days. It was during that time that Sally had learned that he could talk and began to make friends with him.

"I hope this one doesn't need nightshade," she mused to herself as she stumbled through the gate into the graveyard. A crowd had already gathered near a large headstone shaped like a "t." Sally made her way to the back of the crowd. Over the heads and shoulders of the other ghouls, she could catch glimpses of Edgar leaning protectively over the new arrival. From what she could see, the arrival was only a little more than three feet tall with some sort of black cloth covering it. A small hand was sticking out from under the cloth.

"Green skin," someone closer to the front commented. "Must be a goblin."

"Could be a witch," someone else suggested.

Sally tensed and scanned the crowd for Abigail. If the new arrival was a witch, Abigail would naturally be the first ghoul to object to her. The two would be rivals during reviews and, while Abby was well established, if the new witch was powerful, there was a good chance Abby could be sacked.

Edgar glowered at the two ghouls at the front and draped his one good wing over the new arrival. If the crowd were more unruly, he would have gestured with his bad wing for ghouls to back up. As it was, Mr. Stoker was looking over his nose at the crowd from where he stood in the middle of the half-circle, keeping the group at a respectable distance. "What sort of monster has been brought, Edgar?" Stoker asked, keeping his gaze fixed on the crowd.

"It's a witch," Edgar replied. He gave a nervous glance towards the middle of the crowd. Sally strained her neck to see who he was looking at and saw Abigail standing straight as a broom with her eyes fixed on Stoker.

Mr. Stoker nodded his massive head. "A young witch has been brought to our town," he announced to the crowd. "Will anyone step forward for her?"

There was a pause. Sally bit her lip. If no one stepped forward to support the young ghoul in her first years in Halloween Town, she'd be sent to the barracks where she'd live alone. Admittedly, that's where most ghouls went since no one wanted the extra responsibility of guiding a young ghoul into the ways of Halloween Town – or to get too emotionally attached to a ghoul who hadn't proved they could evade the Sack. Still, Sally always pitied the ghouls that had to grow up that way. From what she'd heard from Jack, it wasn't a nice place to live and ghouls that hadn't had a sponsor early on were generally the first in line to be sacked.

"Will anyone step forward?" Stoker repeated.

To everyone's surprise, Abigail walked to the front of the crowd, paused, then took a step into the half circle surrounding the new ghoul. "I'll take her," she croaked, holding out her arms to receive the young witch.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd. Abigail hadn't taken on a young ghoul since her first protégé, Tituba, had been sacked. Sally had heard through other ghouls that she'd sworn never to step forward again.

Mr. Stoker looked Abigail over with a critical eye. He then motioned to Edgar who placed the small ghoul into her outstretched arms. "She will have four Halloweens before she is expected to compete in reviews," he informed the witch as she drew the young ghoul close to her chest. "Have her ready by then."

Abigail nodded curtly and began to march out of the graveyard. Sally slipped away from the crowd while everyone else was talking among themselves about this unexpected turn of events.

"Abigail! Abigail!" she called after the witch's retreating back. "Wait just a…" She huffed as her foot got caught in a crack in the road. "Oh wonderful," she growled as she slipped off her shoe and examined the torn stitches.

"Need some help?"

Sally looked up to see Abigail standing nearby and adjusting the new arrival so that the small arms encircled her neck.

"A bit, yes," she replied. "If you could just help me over to that fence, I should be able to sew myself up."

Abby nodded and, making sure the little witch was secure, reached out with her free hand to help the ragdoll up. "You really need to be more careful," she noted as she helped Sally hobble over to the fence.

"I know. And usually I am, but…"

"You were curious about the new arrival," Abigail supplied.

Sally leaned against the fence and began to sew her foot back to her ankle.

"It's okay to admit it," Abigail continued. "I know if I were a young ghoul, I'd probably be curious too."

Sally smiled softly as she finished up the last few stitches. "Alright. You caught me," she admitted as she straightened up. "May I see her?"

Abigail paused for a moment then lowered the little witch into her arms again.

"She's awful," Sally exclaimed appreciatively. She could see now that the cloth was a cloak with a hood that nearly obscured her face. Beneath that, she could see that the new witch was almost like a smaller version of Abigail. The biggest differences were her green skin, her soft, black curls, and the impressive wart forming on the side of her nose.

Abigail smiled sadly and settled her back against her right shoulder. "One can only hope," she said. She then began walking towards her house.

Sally quickly double-checked her stitches before hurrying after Abigail. "I'm sure if you teach her some spells, she's going to be fine," she said by way of comfort, looking at the small witch resting against Abigail's shoulder. "Maybe she could be a Guardian like you."

Abigail tensed and Sally could just barely see tears forming in her eyes. "I'm not so sure," she murmured, tucking a black curl back under the cloak.

Sally frowned at her, confused. "Then why…?"

"Who else would take her?" she snapped. Her expression softened. "And besides… We witches have to look out for one another." She grunted and positioned the small witch so she was resting against her left shoulder. "Mischief only knows what she went through to be sent here so small."

"Sent here?" Sally asked, surprised. "You mean… She had another life before coming here?"

Abigail smiled sadly. "I keep forgetting you were created. Yes, she did. We all did." She placed her free hand against the back of the witch's head and stroked her curls through the cloak. "Most ghouls forget where they came from within the first few weeks," she murmured wistfully. Her expression soured and her hand dropped to her side. "Some… Aren't so lucky."

"Lucky?" Sally plied. When Abby didn't reply, she added, "I would have thought knowing where you came from would be a good thing."

Abigail looked at her, pity in her eyes. "Not always."

They walked on in silence for a few moments. "So…" Sally began, unsure whether to even ask the question. "Do you…?"

"Remember? Yes, I do," Abigail replied before Sally could finish. She grunted again and placed her other hand beneath the young witch.

"Do you need some help?" Sally asked as she watched Abigail trudge forward with the young witch in her arms.

Abigail smiled bleakly. "It's not too far now. Besides, I'm a little afraid you'd drop her," she replied. "Or was that some other ragdoll I had to help a few minutes ago?"

Sally pursed her lips. "Alright," she said. "What do you remember then?"

"You're just full of questions!" Abby exclaimed as she adjusted the young witch around her neck. "Doesn't Dr. Finklestein tell you anything?"

"Nothing about arrivals or where ghouls came from," she replied.

There was a moment of silence as Abby pondered this information. "Fine," she grunted finally. She took a deep breath. "I remember… Being drowned in a lake for creating a healing potion for a sick friend of mine."

Sally's eyes widened. "Who would drown you for healing someone?" she asked, shocked.

"The potion didn't work," Abigail replied tersely. "She drank it all in one gulp. I'd given the instructions to her husband, but he ignored them. So instead of healing her, it caused her to have nervous fits and then… die." She shifted uncomfortably. "The husband blamed me. There was already a hunt for witches going on…" She trailed off.

Sally clenched her teeth and decided not to press her for more information. "Do you think this little one will remember?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I can only hope not," Abby said, lowering the witch from her shoulder to look at her. She rubbed some of the cloth between her fingers. "This tatty cloak though… I need to get rid of it. If she's going to forget, everything about her past needs to go."

"I'll come over with a measuring tape tomorrow morning," Sally assured her. "Since she's so small, I might be able to make something for her before sunset. Something like your clothes, maybe?"

Abigail looked down at her green and purple striped shirt and old grey frock. "No. Something nicer," she asserted. "Something white."

"I have some white and purple cloth," Sally suggested. "That and a black frock?"

"Yes, that would work nicely," she said, smiling at the young ghoul in her arms. She turned tear-filled eyes to Sally. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble," Sally assured her. As they kept walking, a thought occurred to her. "Do the new ghouls have names already?"

"Only if they remember," she replied. "And even then some of them choose not to use their former name."

"What if they don't remember?"

"Then they choose their own name or whomever stepped forward chooses one for them."

"Do you have anything in mind?"

Abigail paused for a moment and stared at the young ghoul. "Betty," she stated. She placed the witch back against her shoulder. "If she doesn't like it, she can pick another, but I like 'Betty'."

Sally nodded. "It's a nice name," she agreed. She stopped in front of the Witches' House. "You know, I could go get my measuring tape right now," she said. "Dr. Finklestein is in the middle of one of his experiments, so I don't think he'd even notice if I slipped out again."

"Could you? The sooner I can get rid of this," Abigail said, holding up a bit of the cloak. "The better."

Sally smiled. "I'll be right back."

As Jack hobbled into the Witches' House, he was surprised to see a little black hat bobbing around the tables. "New arrival?" he asked as he sat down next to Polly, who was gazing forlornly into his slug soup.

The clown nodded. "Betty. She's been here for two days." He turned to Jack, an irked expression on his face. "Where have you been?"

Jack clenched his jaw and gestured to the splint. "I… I fell off the post," he murmured.

"Don't give me that stew," Polly said, pushing aside his bowl. "I heard what happened. If you'd been up and around, you'd have heard too. You caused a big fuss with that fire business. Did you really…?"

"Pagliacci, if you don't eat that soup, you're not going to get a sip of brew!" Abigail called from the kitchen.

"It's not like I get much as is," he growled as he pulled the bowl closer to him. "You'd think she doesn't want customers." He took a small sip of the soup and turned his attention back to Jack. "Where was I?"

"Prying into other people's business," Jack said wryly, setting his skull in his hand.

"Oh, yeah! That's right. Did you really see King Oogie Boogie?" he asked, unfazed by Jack's remark.

The skeleton's expression soured. "Abby?" he called, turning his skull towards the kitchen. "Why did you take a new arrival? I thought that you'd sworn…"

"Hush!" Abby scolded, rushing out of the kitchen. She scooped up the small witch and gave Jack and scathing look. "She's new. Now I don't want any more talk about arrivals or both of you are out of here!" she snapped.

The two ghouls stared at her in shock. Meanwhile, Betty looked with confusion from Abigail to Jack. After a moment, she pulled on Abigail's shirt and pointed to Jack. "Who?" she asked in a voice too small to rasp yet.

Abigail smiled sadly and brushed a curl out of Betty's face. "That's Jack, witchling," she cooed. "He's one of the best tutors in Halloween Town."

Jack grinned and sat up. "Thanks, Ab—"

"Why hurt?" Betty interrupted.

Jack clenched his jaw. Abby glanced at him, panic in her eyes. The older witch had clearly heard some version of what had happened to Jack. "He… He…"

"I fell off a post and broke my leg," Jack said, pasting on his signature grin. "I was the Scarecrow this Halloween. That's where you get to dress up in a costume and hang from a post. Only this year, the strings weren't tight enough and I fell off."

For a moment, the lie hung in the air like a dark cloud. Then Betty giggled and said, "That funny! You a funny Jack."

Abby clutched Betty closer to her and gave the skeleton a grateful look. "Yes, he's a funny skeleton, witchling," she cooed, a question written across her face. "But now, you need to go practice your spells so you can help me with the shop. Have you been practicing your turning spell?"

Betty simply repeated "funny skeleton" over and over as she was carried upstairs. As soon as the two witches were out of hearing, Jack whistled. "She's teaching her spells this early?" he commented.

"Forget the spells! Did you see her face?" Polly said, straining his neck to try to peer upstairs. "I'm pretty sure she thought you were going to tell Betty the whole thing."

Jack's brow furrowed over his sockets. "Why would I do that to a ghoul so young?"

Polly shook his head. "I don't know. All I can tell you is you gained some major points by making up that story."

Jack felt his ribs constrict. "I just wish it wasn't a story," he mused aloud. He turned his sockets towards Polly. "And you aren't going to get any of the real story with this new witch nearby."

"Betty," the clown corrected. "And alright. Where do you want to meet?"

Jack sighed. "My house will do," he said as he got up from the bench. He hissed as his splint hit the wooden bench. "I should probably get back there anyway. Sally says it takes time for bones to heal and that I shouldn't walk around too much. I only came down here to get some slug soup, but now it looks like that won't happen."

"I'll bring some when I come over tonight," Polly said.

Jack drooped a little and tucked his hands under his arms. "You just have to know what happened, don't you?"

"That's right, numbskull," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Anything that gets you beat up that bad is something we all need to know about. In detail."

Jack groaned his frustration and began heading towards the door. "Just make sure you bring the soup."

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