A quiet knock on the door awoke Blanche from her musings over the last terrible days. "Yes?" she asked, facing the door. It swung open and a bright pair of eyes appeared.

"They said I could visit you now," their owner said with a modest question in his tone.

Blanche smiled up at the friendly man, "Gerald." In sudden alarm she raised a hand to her collar, gently tugging it tighter around her neck. With her other hand she motioned for her friend to enter.

The young man closed the door and pulled a chair next to the bed. Sitting down without quite seeing the need for an invitation to, Gerald looked at the actress, who was sitting in bed with her back resting against a large pillow that, in turn, was positioned against the headboard of the hospital bed.

Blanche looked rather optimistic and clearly well-rested. She had refrained from doing up her hair in the morning with the excuse that she didn't have anyone to look presentable for. And so her long ebony hair flowed over her broad nightgown-covered shoulders, leaving her in a state which both Lynn and the nurses had called lovely. Gerald's attention was inadvertently drawn to the already retreating bruise on Blanche's left cheekbone and the raw marks on her neck, which her gown's high collar couldn't fully cover. Around her wrists he noticed, to his dismay, fresh bandages. Gerald forced himself to look away from them and up at the woman's face. She must have noticed where his eyes had wandered, for a flicker of sorrow had appeared in her eyes.

"We sure are happy to see you all right, Miss Hudson," Gerald attempted to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

He marvelled at the woman. In the blink of an eye her expression changed, and her characteristic small hesitant smile appeared. "It's really not as bad as they say," she tried to assure the young man. "I wanted to get out of bed today but nurse Merrick wouldn't let me." She glanced over to the abandoned wheel chair purposefully put away by the nurse at the other side of the room.

"We were all very worried when we heard the news," Gerald said. "Especially nurse Merrick. You know, she kept this room empty ever since the news hit the papers, so they could bring you right into your old room when they found you."

"How did you know they would?" Blanche interrupted him, a wavering perplexity audible in her tone. "Find me."

Gerald attempted a smile, although he was quite distracted by the woman's rather adorable insecurity. "We hoped."

Blanche watched as nurse Merrick smoothed the bed-covers and tucked the ends of the blanket under the mattress. "But I'm feeling all right today," Blanche continued their friendly dispute.

"I won't hear any more arguments," replied nurse Merrick sharply; however, her face held something of a smile. "You won't get out of bed until I say so. And there's no point in fighting me. I always win."

Blanche smiled up at the older woman. She reminded her so much of a stern yet lovable character in one of her pictures. Connie Bennett had played her fussy but doting cousin there, she recalled.

The door opened to reveal a radiant Lynn with a magnificent bouquet of gladioli in her arms. "Good morning, Miss Blanche!" she called from behind the flowers. "Nurse," she nodded towards the older occupant of the room. She seemed to have finally forgiven the woman for not allowing her to stay at the hospital. At first Lynn had been very passionate about that.

"Morning, Miss White," replied the nurse curtly and swept towards the door, while Blanche smiled up at her young friend. "I'll get you a vase for those." She gestured towards the flowers.

When the nurse had slid out of the room, Lynn turned to Blanche and rolled her eyes. "How can you stand her?" she asked, nodding towards the door. "I've never seen a worse case of bitter, snippy-"

"Oh, she's really not that bad," Blanche cut in calmly and patted the bed next to herself. "Actually," she continued, watching as the girl sat beside her, "she has been very kind to me."

Lynn stopped herself before she could argue further. Instead she turned the flowers in her arms so that Blanche could have a better look at them. The older woman tried in vain to smell them.

"You know, you didn't have to go through the trouble," Blanche said gently, raising a hand to the fresh pink blossoms.

"Oh, these aren't from me," Lynn replied quickly, gaining a curious look from the actress. "I ran into Pauline Bates in the lobby. She was in an awful hurry, I forget where to. So she asked me to take these to you myself."

Blanche beamed at her. "How kind people are!"

Lynn watched the happy woman in silence for a while, thinking with bitter remorse about the scared and mistreated creature she had found strapped ruthlessly to her granny's old bed two weeks ago. Lynn had really felt like she could kill her brother at that moment. She thought with sickening dread that she would have, too, if she could have. It hadn't really been Dan's grip on her wrist that had stopped her. It had been Blanche's desperate and anguished cry.

Lynn studied the bright look in Blanche's eyes, the happy smile on her lips. "How did you sleep?" she inquired gently.

Blanche's smile didn't falter but something in her eyes shifted. She must have known Lynn could see it—Blanche had been in the silent pictures, after all—because she averted her eyes evasively. "Not well," she sighed, a hint of restrained agitation in her tone. "I had one of my nightmares. Again."

"Oh!" Lynn reacted with instant worry. She bit back her question, deciding it was better to leave it up to Blanche if she wanted to elaborate. And evidently, she did.

"I see Jane…" the older woman said, her voice now a regretful whisper, "killing Edna. Over and over again. And then I see Danny. With his dolls and his lipstick and hairbrush and scissors…"

Lynn darted forward and caught one of Blanche's hands in hers. "You don't know how sorry I am, Miss Blanche."

"I've told you-"

"If it weren't for me," Lynn interrupted the actress again, "this wouldn't have happened to you." She glanced from Blanche's face to her long ebony hair, thankfully, still gracing her head. She was distracted when Blanche shook her head.

"You can't blame yourself, darling," she said, now taking on the role of the comforter. "Don't you think if you hadn't met me, he would have simply done the same thing to someone else?"

Lynn blinked her eyes in stunned awe. This woman never ceased to amaze her. Even though she was the one who had been abducted, beaten and even nearly killed, Blanche still had enough compassion and concern for Lynn. Little did the young woman know how desperately Blanche was trying not to blame anyone, how much she wanted to stop herself from making the same mistake she had made years ago when she had blamed everything that had happened to her on Jane.

"Besides," Blanche continued without even a hint of the anxiety she was feeling in her tone, "you have been the sunlight in my life ever since you first walked through those living room doors back on Hillside Terrace."

And although Lynn couldn't forgive herself for bringing Dan into Blanche's life, she knew that these words had come straight from the woman's heart.

Gerald waved to them from the driver's seat and the car sped down the street. Blanche reached a hand behind her shoulder and caught the young woman's hand. A familiar rhythmical beat of music sounded from the neighbouring house. A little brown bird was trying with all its might to sing over the racket.

"It's good to be home again," Blanche declared blissfully and studied the fairy house. It was still smiling amongst its wild grapevine and honeysuckle and gesturing welcomingly to the women with the sunny glint of its wide windows.

Blanche sighed with contentment. Everything here looked just as it had before. And perhaps they could go back to life as it had been before, too. Blanche had a promising feeling that everything would go well from now on. Lynn squeezed her hand as if in silent agreement.

"There's a packet of letters in your room," Lynn said, pushing Blanche's wheel chair through the living room. "They showed one of your pictures on TV last week. I think those letters from the station must be fan mail." She caught a brilliant smile on Miss Blanche's face.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Blanche sighed happily.

"And Margaret called," the young woman added casually. "They want to pay a call on us." She left Blanche for a moment to walk over to the kitchen counter, snatch up a large envelope and return to the actress's side.

By now Miss Blanche had changed so much from what she'd been like when Lynn had found her in her family's old garage that it was hard to believe only three weeks had passed. Blanche had felt ready to leave the hospital a week earlier, but of course nurse Merrick had forbidden her from not only going back home but even from leaving her room. The lively and beautiful spark had returned to Miss Blanche's eyes and she was no longer pale, nor did she glance around herself fearfully every once in a while as she had done at first when she had been brought to the hospital. The only visible evidence of her days with Dan were her carefully chosen long-sleeved dress, the unusually thick layer of make-up on the left side of her face and the silk scarf she had wrapped around her neck.

"This came, too," Lynn said, holding the envelope in her hands, so that the older woman could see it.

Blanche looked up at the girl, an intrigued expression on her face. "What is it?" she inquired and reached over to accept the letter. Lynn dropped it into her hands.

"I found it in the mail two days ago. I didn't bring it to the hospital because nurse Merrick had told me not to upset you," Lynn explained, watching the actress's reaction carefully. Blanche's eyebrows had formed a confused frown as she studied the envelope. "It's from your sister's sanatorium."

Instantly Blanche's expression changed. The remains of her smile were wiped from her face and in her eyes Lynn thought she saw a glint of dread. The letter was dropped obliviously into Miss Blanche's lap as she turned her head away, possibly to conceal any other feelings Lynn might otherwise have been able to read from her face.

There was a long moment of empty silence and, looking at the clearly upset woman's back—straight and stiff—Lynn briefly wondered if she should have opened the letter herself before presenting it to Miss Blanche just in case it carried bad news. The actress remained motionless until Lynn saw her tight grip on the armrest of her chair loosen. And slowly she turned to face her young maid again. Lynn fought back a gasp at the sight of her face full of restrained sorrow. Even after living with the actress for a while now, how someone could convey so deep an emotion with just their eyes was still beyond her.

"I-I will open it later." Lynn saw her lips moving and her ears registered the quiet quivering sound of her voice, but she was too stunned to realize Blanche had spoken. "When I'm alone."