Nothing had ever made the colors of her tiny world seem so dull as waiting for Cordelia to wake up did. Misty woke up only a few hours later than usual, despite the lack of sleep, and Cordelia's door was still closed. Just looking at her door made Misty's heart pound. She remembered that feeling with such vivid clarity it still made her throat contract. She remembered the way Cordelia's finger brushed over her face, her bottom lip. She shivered. She didn't dare to leave her own room. The only thing worse than confronting Cordelia was confronting her mother.

A little over noon she finally heard the creek of the door opening across the hall. Misty had been waiting for this moment ever since she opened her eyes, but now she hesitated. Now she was afraid to find out if Cordelia remembered. She couldn't even decide which of the possibilities were the most mortifying.

The steps faded down the hall before Misty had so much as moved and their bathroom door closed. Misty willed her heart to stop beating so fast and she took a deep breath. She would have to face her sometime. It was only when the steps returned, that Misty realized with increasing dread the time was now.

Seconds later, Cordelia appeared in the doorway. All her makeup was off, her hair tied back in a careless ponytail and her eyes looked like she had been drained of a week of sleep. And all Misty could think about was that finger on her lip.

"'Morning", Cordelia said. It was a bad day, Misty could hear it in her voice. The day after Cordelia had been drinking often was. Somewhere in between her drunken smiles and her waking up all the joy seeped out of her body. It only made it that much harder to confront her about last night.

"'Mornin'", Misty answered. "How're you feelin'?" It was the only question that seemed safe for now.

Cordelia sighed and entered her room. She moved like every cell in her body was screaming at her and she went to lie down at the foot of Misty's bed.

"Like hell. Fiona will kill me. She'll laugh at me for not being able to handle a hangover and then kill me." She groaned. "I can barely remember last night. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so drunk. It was just all the talks and the looks, it just gets me sometimes."

The mention of Fiona suddenly made Misty remember the slap she had heard last night, from behind her door. In all her emotional chaos, she had forgotten it, but now it bubbled through her again.

"What's the matter?"

"She hit you."

Cordelia's expression grew dark for a moment, as the memory seemed to flash behind her eyes.

"That I remember."

"She shouldn't have done that."

Cordelia sighed again. "I shouldn't have behaved like that. I'm so sorry you had to hear that."

Misty just shook her head. "Don't feel bad, Delia, you didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Well technically I did. I'm not allowed to drink. Neither are you, though one sip hardly qualifies. I shouldn't have brought you. I just didn't want to leave you back here again." She said it just as she had last night, Misty noticed. Like she had forgotten all her words.

"Don't you remember anything from last night?"

She made a grimace. "I remember first half of the party. The second half is a little fuzzy. The rest is kind of glimpses. But I remember you got me home. Thanks. It's nice to know you're still there, when I'm drunk and annoying."

"You could never annoy me", Misty mumbled, crestfallen. She didn't remember anything. She would have said. Misty started to get mad at herself for getting her hopes up. She should have known.

A hand found hers, a thumb stroke her skin with soft caresses. It was all too familiar. Misty's heart speed out of rhythm again, her neck and ears started to get warm.

"Thanks anyway."

It was too much. It was just all too much.

Misty didn't say anything. In that moment she decided she couldn't do it and she spent the next three days trying to force her emotions back to normal. Back to when Cordelia's every move didn't make her feel like this. The only problem was that she couldn't remember, when that had been. She was beginning to doubt such a time had ever existed.

The times Misty had to herself were beginning to feel like sanctuary. They were times where she could set her mind to peace, confess to Mother Earth and get it all out before Cordelia returned home. With the little homeschooling she received, there were oceans of time to calm her nerves and oceans of time were needed.

Only today Fiona worked at home, as she sometimes did. She worked harder than Misty had ever seen, trying to control the media and keeping the scandal from getting out. She had managed to keep her job for over a year now, but the threat was constant. She was losing cases. Even Misty, with her negligible knowledge of the world around her, could see that.

Misty didn't like being alone with her. She could feel the glares at her back. She didn't mind that Fiona made her take on some of the duties the crazy maid used to do – as Fiona had refused to take in a new one – but she hated doing it, while Fiona secretly watched her from around the corner of her office. She had barely said a thing to Misty since that night, but the looks were more than enough. Misty had never relied on words, when understanding someone's feelings.

The doorbell rang.

"Get that", Fiona commanded. This was their way lately, but Misty forced back her usual defiance. She didn't want to start a fight, because she feared it would lead to Cordelia finding out. It was a wonder that Fiona hadn't said anything yet. Misty supposed she should be happy the scandal kept Fiona occupied.

She went to the door and opened.

And nothing could have prepared her for the sight, which met her.

It was as if she looked into a mirror. Only the reflection was thirty years older and much frailer in appearance. Misty's brain was abruptly wiped clean and for a while they just stood, staring at each other.

"Mama?" Misty didn't even think before she said it.

Tears rose in the woman's eyes. Her lower lip quivered and she reached out, hands shaking and hesitating to touch.

"My child… My dear Misty. They were right, you're really here." Misty thought she sounded just like her. They sounded as much alike as they looked. Misty could see where she got her hair from. The woman – despite her absolute lack of doubt that the woman was her real mother, she had no idea what her name was – took a effortful step forward and flung her arms around Misty. Frozen with shock Misty just stood there as the woman hugged her tight. Then she recognized something. It wasn't a smell as much as it was the entire aura eluding from the woman. It was a scent of something Misty had never consciously been able to recall, but now that it filled her every sense, she recognized it and she hugged her arms around her mother.

"I'm so sorry I let 'em take you, little girl. I'm real glad to see you. I'm sorry it took so long." She kept mumbling into Misty's hair. No one had ever embraced her like this. It felt like she fit right into the space of this woman's embrace, like it was meant for only her.

When she let go, Misty didn't know what to do with herself. She heard Fiona calling, but ignored her. The woman stared at her for a moment, a smile mixing with her tears. Then something seemed to dawn her, because her gaze became uncertain and she backed a step away.

"I'm sorry", she said again, but in a much more controlled voice this time. "I'm overwhelmin' you. But you looked like you remembered me and I just couldn't… Do you remember me?"

Misty nodded once. "Yeah. I remember you're my mama, but I don't understand? And I don't even know your name."

"Of course you wouldn't. My name's Margaret and yeah, I'm your mama. I came to-"

She stopped when steps sounded from the hall and Fiona approached.

"Christ child, what is the hold up, can't you hear- oh. And who are you?" Fiona stepped up beside Misty and took measurement of her new guest.

Margaret gave her a polite nod and a small smile. She looked older than Fiona, Misty thought as she watched her real mother great Fiona. She tried her best to memorize her every move, as if she could get to know her in these few minutes alone.

"How're you doin', my name is Margaret Day. I'm Misty's mama."

Fiona's eyes widened for a second, but she quickly gathered her usual cool composure. "Day, you say now. Well, you're not, according to a bunch of papers in my desk drawer."

Margaret ignored this. "I came to town lookin' for Misty. I've been through all the towns closin' up to the forest, the small and the big, lookin' for you." – she looked at Misty now and started talking to her instead of Fiona – "I described you to everyone I met. I'm so lucky you still have that hair. It's what made some nice folks nearby recognize you. They said you live here now. And you do. I can't believe I found you. Can I… Come in?"

To Misty's immense surprise, Fiona didn't answer, but looked at Misty instead. It took a while for Misty to realize that Fiona was asking her. Baffled, Misty blurted out: "Yeah 'course."

Two minutes later, she and Misty sat on each their end of the couch. Fiona stood on the other side of the table, arms crossed over her chest and eyes carefully following the scene. She had offered Margaret nothing to drink, but Spalding came in with a tray of ice water by himself.

"I'm not even sure where to start", Margaret said, all the while staring at Misty with an intensity Misty only recognized from when a healing trance came upon her. "I'm still tryna comprehend that you're here, that you're alive. And you're so grown. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I can't bear to think what you must think of me."

"Yes, why don't we dig into that?" Fiona said. "You see, my daughter dragged your daughter home from the forest one day nine years ago and it was abundantly clear she had been living out there for a while. Why don't you start by explaining that?"

Misty was torn between wanting to snarl at Fiona for talking like that to her real mother, and craving the same truths as she. And she wouldn't deny the spark of anger in her, fueled by Fiona's words. She had wanted answers to these questions all her life and now here they were in the form of a person with her hair and her eyes and even her voice.

"Yeah mama, why did you leave me out there?"

Tears welled into eyes again. She apologized for herself and dried her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "'Course you'd wanna know that. I hope you can believe me, when I say I didn't wanna see it happen. I begged them not to, but where we come from, it's a very strict, religious place. A tiny community. And you had – have? – certain… abilities…"

"You can spare us the mystery. She still has them."

Margaret's eyes widened, but Misty couldn't tell at first just what emotion made them do so. She didn't seem scared. "You do? How well do you control it? How much can you-"

"Get to the point, will you?"

"Yeah 'course. You see, Misty, you have always had these powers. I imagine you were born with them. I saw what you could do as early as when you were only two. I hid it from our community, 'cause they wouldn't understand. One day Norma's boy got bitten by a wild dog. He was just the same age as you, only four back then and the dog had torn up half his thigh. And you healed him. It was beautiful. But not everyone thought so, the town priest least of all. He saw the devil in you and he banished you from town. I begged and I begged, but nothin' I said could change it. If I hadn't agreed to your banishment they would have killed you. They sent you into the forest and forbade any of us to go look for you. That was the last I saw of you."

Misty sat quiet for a while. Tried to envision it. Nothing happened; the space where the memory should be remained black. Even so, she believed her mother's words. And even though she remembered nothing of the dog and the boy, it sounded like something she would do.

"But why didn't you look for me anyway?" Misty asked. She tried to imagine Cordelia going missing and someone forbidding her to seek her out. She wouldn't stay a second.

Margaret didn't cry this time. She only sat in silence, but somehow this made her seem even older.

"I should have. I was weak. I was afraid and bound by rules. I can't hope you'll ever forgive me… but maybe in time we could figure it out anyway. 'Cause I wanted to ask you, if you wanna come home again?"

The question hit her like the blow of a sledgehammer. She noticed she was gaping and shut her mouth again. The flood of emotions that came with it had so many colors she couldn't think for a while. The thought of a mother, someone who was just hers, was a dream she had had all her life. Every time she looked at Cordelia and Fiona together, she had it. They might not always be the best of friends, but they had a bond Misty would never experience. She always thought Cordelia was enough, but now at the prospect of getting what had been nothing but a concurring fever dream, she wasn't so sure. This bond would never make her feel like she was choking, the way Cordelia sometimes did. But she knew nothing of this woman, despite the scent of her being and what she had learned in the past half an hour. Getting up and leaving her entire life seemed almost impossible.

It was Fiona, who broke the silence.

"Misty has a home."

Misty looked up at Fiona in shock. Fiona didn't look back, but focused her eyes on Margaret. Misty had never heard her talk like this before, talk as if Misty belonged. She wondered what the reason could be for her sudden change of heart.

Margaret nodded. "I know. I understand you've taken her in and for that, I can never express my gratitude. But," she turned to Misty again, "if you wanna come home to the place you were born, I'm offerin'. I understand if you wanna stay in your life here, but just know that I can't come back here again. I ain't allowed to leave the community, you see. They gave me special permission, 'cause…" She trailed off again, in battle with herself. Once decided she looked up. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you this. I'm sick, Misty. Might be real bad and 'cause of that they let me go find you. Not 'cause you're a healer, but 'cause you're my daughter and the only thing I ever regret is losin' you. So there you have it."

Misty knew it was true. This was why she looked so old in an odd way. Misty didn't cry, despite the sudden odd pinch of sadness in her chest. Instead, she reached out and put a hand on her mother's heart. Margaret gasped in surprise, but kept still. This was where the sickness was, Misty knew. Her heart was slowly failing.

"I can feel it. But why can't you heal yourself? I can."

She smiled. A sad smile. "That's somethin' only you can do. You were born gifted. Only you."

She called it a gift. Misty remembered when Fiona found out. She had looked at her as if Misty had suddenly grown an additional head. She had looked at her with fear. But this woman practically glowed at the thought.

"Will they all hate me, if I go with you?"

"No. The old priest is gone and the rest'll see there ain't no reason to fear you. What do you think? We have our own school you can finish there. And it's a beautiful place, so quiet and peaceful. Nature on every side…"

"I love nature." Misty had never thought so intensely about something in her life. She looked up at Fiona. Seeking her opinion was another first.

Fiona only shrugged. The hostility disappeared from her face. "It's up to you, kid."

Misty thought about Cordelia. She couldn't say goodbye to her, even if she was given the chance. She would never be able to tear herself away. But she couldn't endure this suffocation any longer. She thought about Cordelia's thumb on her lip. The embers of heat that came with it. Fiona's ultimatum to throw her out, if she ever acted on her feelings. She didn't understand why Fiona suddenly wanted to keep her, but Fiona wasn't the heavy stone in her decision either way.

Then Misty looked to her mother, her own reflection, and thought about the life they could finally share. Misty could learn to forgive her, she believed. And she couldn't ignore this hurt in her mother's sick heart. She couldn't. It sang to her with the saddest tunes and she needed it to stop. There was a part of her, a part of this gift tethered to her soul, which forbade her to ignore it. She could heal her mother and maybe that would mend the hole she always carried in her chest, but barely noticed until today. She might lose close to everything she had today, but maybe the relief was worth it.

Her mother caught her eyes, sought for the answer with a hopeful expression, before she asked: "So are you comin' with me?"

O0O

When Cordelia walked home that day, it was with a head full of schoolwork. The shame of her drunken behavior, most of which she had forgotten, was starting to fade now. Shame always did. It sunk back to the distant corners of her mind and it might accumulate there, but at least it shied from her conscious mind. She needed her focus. She needed good grades. She would never be able to take over her mother's firm, which was the plan after all, if she didn't get good enough grades to find a decent university. And her mother needed her support more than ever, in the aftermath of Delphine's arrest. Lately it seemed too much to hope for, that she would even keep her job long enough for Cordelia to take it over.

Cordelia walked in and put her stuff away, while debating if she should tell Misty about these new worries. Her grades were fine, but she wasn't the best. Her mother would need her to be, yet Misty always found a way to make her feel like her best self no matter what a list of numbers said.

The house was awfully silent, she noticed. She figured perhaps Misty was outside, making sure the plants in the greenhouse were coping with the winter. She knew her mother was working at home today, but she heard no buzzing of a keyboard. She had gotten used to it being the three of them in this house ever since Delphine – and Cordelia made a point of not thinking about her and all the horrible things she had done too often – was arrested. The house felt huge now, too big even. Spalding didn't count as an inhabitant. He was a shadow more than anything else.

Cordelia only made it a few steps down the hallway, before Fiona appeared out of the living room. There was a look of worry in her eyes, which alarmed Cordelia at once.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Often her mother would scoff and wave it off, whatever is was. It was her way of saying Cordelia shouldn't meddle and today she would have preferred that. Instead, Fiona gestured for her to come closer.

"Come on in. I think you need to sit for this."

It felt like a little bird had awoken within her ribcage and started to flutter around with a panic that increased by the second. It was the waver in her mother's voice, which hit her the hardest.

"What is it?" She asked again. Fiona didn't answer before Cordelia had seated herself on the couch. Fiona sat in her usual armchair in front of her. She took a moment, in which she looked at her hands, as if searching for words and the little bird in Cordelia's chest started tapping at her insides with its sharp beak. Finally, Fiona looked up.

"Cordelia, Misty has moved out."

The strangest sensation of hot panic hit her, so sudden and so forceful it made her ears ring.

"Wh-what, what do you mean by that?" She stammered. She couldn't possibly have heard right. And it couldn't possibly mean what she feared it did.

Her mother's voice remained calm. "Her mom came by today, when you were at school. She has been looking for Misty for a while. She offered Misty to come home. They left together. I'm sorry, darling."

"But… No, she wouldn't do that, she… She'll come back soon, right?"

Cordelia wanted to scream at her mother to stop shaking her head, but the breaths kept sticking to her throat. Suddenly she felt faint and had to dig her fingers into the cushion to make sure the room around her was still there.

"I don't think she will. She comes from a strict little society; you can't just come and go from there as you please. Her mom was granted special permission. I don't know if she'll ever come back, but I think it's best, if you try to accept that she probably won't."

Cordelia waited for the ability to cry, but her whole body floated in a state of a shock so severe her system had lost all power. She only stared empty-eyed at her mother, hoping some force would relieve her of this cruel cosmic joke, this wicked feeling of abandonment. How could she leave? Just like that. A blink of an eye, a sudden death.

"Why didn't you stop her?"

"It wasn't my choice, Cordelia. It was Misty's."

"But you adopted her!"

"And I gave her the papers with. It's done, child. I'm sorry."

"No!" Finally, the tears welled up. Her hands trembled, when she lifted them to wipe the falling ones away. The whole room spun, her ears rang. She rushed up from the couch, not sure where to go, but she would search the forest a hundred times over, if that was what it took. Maybe if she got lost, Misty would find her again.

Fiona caught her before she could search anything.

"Let me go! She can't be gone!" Fiona only tightened her embrace and pulled Cordelia to her. Cordelia couldn't remember the last time they had hugged in any way, and something about that realization cut through her desperate denial.

"But she is, Cordelia. She left. She's not coming back."

Her body caved. The bird died in her chest. She cried against her mother's shoulder, still unable to fully grasp just what it meant, all of this. She only knew that she had never felt so alone. She pushed Fiona away.

"I need to call Myrtle", she said, her voice so broken it was barely words. Fiona didn't object, but let her go.

Cordelia had the sensation of moving through a fog, one that had materialized from her own dizzy pain and utter disbelief. She could barely push the right buttons on her phone.

"Hello dear, how are you?" The elation in Myrtle's voice somehow only hurt more. Cordelia drew a sharp, trembling breath. "Darling, what's the matter? You sound upset."

She took another moment to form the words. She was afraid to say them out loud, because once she admitted it, she could no longer fool herself into thinking in was only a cruel joke or a nightmare in broad daylight.

"Cordelia, talk to me. What happened?"

"Misty left."

She barely heard the answer. It drowned in her sobs. But the answer wasn't the most important, her own words was. And now they were said and they were true and she was alone.


A/N: That's the end of part one, you guys! But despair not, we're nowhere near done! Thanks to everyone who has read along so far and to you who have written me all those wonderful comments, it honestly means the world to me.