For disclaimer, see previous chapters.
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Sara laid out couch with blankets and pillows. Adrienne had refused the bed. As Sara finished, Adrienne approached her uneasily. "Sara?" she began.
"What is it?"
"If nothing else, I need you to know this. Our mother loved you very much. She would tell me about you; she could see you in her dreams as you grew up. if you ever blamed her, resented her for giving you up, please don't. Forgive her that. she wanted to keep you with her but circumstances wouldn't allow. She loved you as if you had been right there with us. She did her best, even if she did fall apart in the end." Sara didn't say anything for several minutes.
"Before now, I never felt anything for my birth parents. What you've told me has let me accept that part of myself. I can't say I love my mother, but I don't hate her or resent her."
"That's more than anyone could ask. I'll tell her; it will ease her mind, I think."
"Might I see her? Speak with her?" Adrienne looked at the floor and when her eyes again met Sara's they glistened with unshed tears.
"She couldn't understand Sara. She's, she's really bad. Her mind isn't...Routine, familiarity; that's what keeps her from going off the deep end. She's been institutionalized for years. She lives in her own little world, we just do our best to keep her contented there. She does love you, she never forgot you, but she knows you only as a sort of abstraction. The price for breaking down her perceptions might be losing her completely. No one wants that."
"No, no of course not. Thank you Adrienne. You've made her real for me. That means something. Goodnight." When the lights were off, Adrienne crept over to Sara's bed. She was asleep. With her thumb, Adrienne traced some symbol on Sara's temple, and whispered a charm.
"Sleep, sweet sister,
slumber well.
And with thee
let no nightmares dwell.
Sleep refresh your tired frame,
then welcome in the flames of dawn."
Adrienne smiled, and then returned to the couch where she curled up and slept herself.

Sara awoke to the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Adrienne was busy in the kitchen, she looked completely at home. "Coffee pot's full. Clean mugs next to it. How do you like your toast?" Adrienne smiled brightly at Sara before returning her attention to the toaster and her enormous cup of tea. Sara poured herself some coffee and sat down at the table with the cream and sugar.
"Em, not burnt, please?"
"I think I can manage that. What do you want on your toast? Butter? Cinnamon? Jam? Honey? Marmalade?"
"Butter please. Wait a sec, do I even have marmalade?"
"Well, you didn't until half an hour ago." Adrienne set a plate of toast and the butter dish in front of Sara. Sara sat silently, sipping her coffee and buttering her toast; mostly enjoying the company.
Adrienne sat down opposite her, with her tea, toast, and marmalade. Sara laughed. "How British of you!" Adrienne grinned.
"Hey, spend half your life on those islands and you're bound to develop a fondness for some things."
"Where?"
"West coast of Ireland until I was 7, Cambridge Massachusetts til 12, then 3 years shuffling between England, Scotland and Wales. Then Scandinavia for a year. A year in Russia, then to China, and then back to the coast, to county Mayo. After that, to university in Dublin, then home to Mayo, then to Boston, in Massachusetts again, and now here."
"Wow. Weren't you, well, lonely?"
"I suppose. But there were always constants. And too much to do and learn to be lonely."
"What were you doing in Boston?"
"Working. Antique and rare book dealings. I was able to set up a job here, actually. My boss was nice enough to recommend me to a colleague of his who has a shop here in the city. I'm going to meet him tomorrow."
"You have everything though out, don't you?"
"Ha! Only the most trivial things. I was wondering, can you recommend any decent housing in the area? I plan on staying on for a while."
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like."
"Be sensible Sara. No, I do appreciate it, but I need my own space; as do you."
"I'm sorry. You're right, but I'm almost afraid you'll disappear."
"Sara, I spent my life waiting to find you. In the immortal words of Mick Jagger, 'Wild horses couldn't drag me away.'" She chuckled. Sara looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I think one of the apartments on the lower floors of this building might be vacant."
"Sounds promising. You on good terms with your landlord?
"Pretty good."
"Then let 'em know you have an interested party?"
"Of course. I'll call today. What are you going to do today, by the way? I don't get off work til 6-"
"If it's ok with you, I'd like to check out of my hotel. Never liked them much. Is it all right if I stow my stuff here for a while? It isn't much."
"That's fine."
"Maybe I'll get some shopping done too."
"Okay. Great. I gotta go. I'll see you tonight?"
"Yep." Sara stood awkwardly for a moment. Adrienne noticed, and stood up, giving Sara a gentle hug. "I know it's strange. But we'll get to know each other better. Don't worry." Adrienne gripped Sara's witchblade hand, and a thousand images of that action, and of the reassuring smile that accompanied it, flashed through Sara's mind. She left Adrienne cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
By 5 o'clock, Adrienne had finished her errands, and was lounging on the couch reading an Agatha Christie mystery. Ian Nottingham came in through the window. Not taking her attention from her book, Adrienne remarked dryly "You know, you really ought to consider the door. It's the done thing, if you take my meaning. Sara isn't home. but you know that. So what do you want?"
"My employer, Kenneth Irons, has requested the pleasure of your company this evening."
"Has he indeed? Well, I can't say I wasn't hoping to see him. Do you want for me to come now?"
"That would be ideal."
"Right. Give a few minutes to write a note and change. Wouldn't want to give Kenneth Irons a poor impression." She said this with a note of sarcasm that sparked Ian's curiosity, but he said nothing. When Adrienne reappeared, Ian felt he truly understood the meaning of the expression "Dressed to kill."
Adrienne wore a slightly shaped red dress, of some well draped material ending in a hem just above her knees. Over it was a tailored red and black brocade jacket. Against the white of her neck, she had a black ribbon choker hung with red crystal. A pair of heeled black boots completed the ensemble.
Turning from her writing on the table, Adrienne held out a hand to Nottingham. "Shall we?" he handed her her coat and silently escorted her out of the apartment.