wow. didn't realize how lazy I was until I got a full time job. so I kinda forget about this fanfic here. The more reviews I get the more I might remember ;)

PART XI

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Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.

Nathaniel Hawthorne

§§§

I arrived at Reed Hall, my aunt's home, worn and tired. The road to the house was bumpy and rough and all I could imagine was soaking in a hot bath.

Betsy, the maid from my former days, greeted me with a hug. "Sarah! How wonderful to see you again."

We exchanged warms greetings before she led me into the drawing room.

"Mrs. Reed asked for me." I said, hoping she would know what my aunt had wanted.

Betsy nodded. "Yes, she did. She is asleep right now, but you can talk to her tomorrow."

I nodded in agreement, a bit too tired to say much. Betsy served me dinner, warm soup with biscuits, just like the way I loved it when I was little. We talked a little longer and then she showed me to my room, noticing how tired I looked.

"Sleep in, Sarah. Mrs. Reed usually gets up very late due to her medication, so you'll have plenty of time to sleep in and talk to her after that.

I nodded. "Thank you Betsy."

I took a long soak in the bathtub, feeling as if something was missing. I went to bed with that feeling, hoping it would disappear by morning.

§§§

I had a headache in the morning as I got up and every time I sat down I grimaced. The ride to Reed Hall was truly horrific. I was a little anxious to see my Aunt, whom I have mentioned I had not talked to for quite some time. It was mainly curiosity, not compliance, which drew me to her room early that afternoon.

I approached her bed, which was lightly veiled with a drapery hanging from the canopy. I leaned over and stared into her pale face. Her breathing was labored and I could see she had begun to waste away, piecemeal, long ago.

A slant of light peeked through the curtains and she woke as its ineffectual warmth touched her face. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the image before her. Me.

"Why . . . is that Sarah Mackenzie? Or is that your ghost . . . come to haunt me?"

"Yes, it's me." I was a little confused by her behavior. Why would I haunt her if I was a ghost? "No, I'm not a ghost." She appeared to really need the reassurance that I was standing before her, flesh and blood.

"Sarah . . ." Her breath was short and shallow. "Sarah, look in the drawer in the dresser . . . top right."

I walked over to the dresser and pulled open the requested drawer. Inside I found a letter, neatly folded and well worn. It looked like it had been read many times.

"Read it." Her whisper floated across the room.

I opened up the envelope and pulled the letter out, my curiosity now reaching its climax.

Dear Mrs. Reed,

I would like for my niece, Sarah Mackenzie to come and live with me. Upon my death she shall receive all property and my estate in Medira. I am aware her parents have died long ago and it was not until just recently that I was informed of my niece's whereabouts. If you could reply, I would greatly appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Matthew O'Hara

It was dated twenty-one years ago. I looked at my aunt on the bed. "This was dated – "

"Twenty one years ago. Yes, I know."

I stared back down at the envelope before walking back to the bed. "Why did you not tell me about it?"

"I was mad at you. The way you came into my life so abruptly, the attitude you left with . . . before you left for Lowood."

I recalled a brief encounter before I had left, upon Mrs. Reed's insistence, to Lowood.

"You are a deceitful child!" Aunt Reed had called out into the still air of the dining room.

I had stood up from the table and walked right up to her. My little legs never trembled from anger so much. "I am not deceitful. If I were deceitful, I should say I loved you."

The words now came back to me like a slap in my face.

"Aunt Reed, I am sorry."

She lifted up a frail hand. "Don't. I am giving you this letter to let you know. You may write your uncle, but please leave me alone."

My years in the very strict, religious boarding school of Lowood taught me to forgive those who had trespassed me, and I wished her to know I no longer contained any animosity towards her. I placed a hand on her gaunt face. "Aunt, I hold no animosity towards you."

She turned her face away. It was clear she could never forgive me. I would have to move on.

I left the room with the letter in my hand, unsure of what to do now. If I responded, I could live on my own, move to the some distant country where I would never have to worry about anything again. But something held me back.

I descended the stairs and Betsy greeted me, inquiring if I was all right, saying I looked a little pale. I assured her I was fine, but said I would only be staying a few more days. I needed to return home. I caught myself with that statement, but was not really surprised. Thornfield Mansion had become my home. It was where I belonged. Even if Mr. Rabb loved Renee Ingram, I can not keep my heart from loving him. And for the first time since I had met him, I not only let my mind believe I loved him, but my heart as well.

§§§

The week passed quickly, almost too quickly. I was a little apprehensive about returning to Thornfield Mansion. If he found out about my uncle, would he let me go, saying I no longer needed a job? I wouldn't. Not if I responded right away. It was that thought that made me put off responding to my dear uncle, though I knew I eventually would. My uncle deserved to know about his niece, and I most earnestly wanted to know about my uncle.