The Tens Vanessa Jones (historical books to read TXT) 📖

to herself. Since she’d returned home, the house felt less empty, even though it was just her there. She’d opened up the blinds and windows more, less fearful of what was plaguing her or that a bird was going to fly inside.

Sophie slid away the copy of Venus that she stole, hidden under her waistband the whole time and went to usher Bree inside for a warm coffee and equally warm chat.

'Their so-called alchemy is useless to them now,' Bree laughed at the TV screen playing in the background. 'Carla and Clive have been detained and are awaiting trial for trespassing and squatting and holding someone against their will, intentional administration of harmful substances, impersonating a psychologist and a few other little delights that we've chucked in there for good measure. Another team are investigating the link to your parents’ death.’ She winked at Sophie. But her smile changed when she noticed Sophie’s hands. 'Your hands have healed so well!' Bree was visibly shocked. 'Lucky we took you straight to hospital, rather than the station.'

Sophie beamed but knew the real reason why her hands wore barely a glimpse of what they had been through. Sometimes, in certain lights, they shone a little silver, like a scar under moonlight or iridescent like mermaid's scales. It wasn't always that obvious though.

Bree sat down without invitation and Sophie followed suit. 'I'm afraid there's still no word on Alex. He just seemed to disappear into thin air. There's no trace of him back at the camp and no one there has revealed anything about where he might be. I even suspect they genuinely don't know. Tracing his phone has come up completely empty, it has been off for far too long. I'm so sorry but we just don't know where he is. I promise you that we will keep doing everything we know how to do to find him. It's just an unusual case. There are no traces of his whereabouts, no signs of which way he has gone and certainly no evidence that we've found a body to match his. You could take all these things as signs of hope. But rest assured, I will keep you informed every step of the way.'

Bree's seriousness didn't deter Sophie. It was clear she was good at her job. And whilst it absolutely confounded her that Alex could just disappear like that, she could have some understanding. She suspected he wanted to be safe, away from Carla and Clive. Perhaps he would show up now they were in jail. There were so many unanswered questions. But what Sophie knew was that she felt so much more solid in herself, even without Alex. For the first time in her life, she was relaxed and content, making friends with herself: madness, magic and all. Besides, she knew when she was ready for Alex to come back into her life, if she chose that's what she wanted, she knew she could make it happen.

Bree's tone and face softened. 'I've mainly come to see how you're doing Soph? I know I betrayed you and my involvement in this case was never fully disclosed initially but I honestly hope you can forgive me and we can truly be friends?' Bree's eyes were shining and she unconsciously placed a hand to her chest.

Sophie could read and feel the earnestness just pouring out of her. 'Yeah, I think I'd like that too, Bree. But we don't have to go back to those horrid groups, right?'

Bree chortled so hard that she had to put her mug down. 'Oh, geez they were terrible, weren't they? I'm embarrassed to say that we were barking up the wrong tree there. The unit had suspected the group was in some way connected to The Tens but it turns out they were just a bunch of whack-a-doo hippies! Another thing I have to apologise for, I guess.'

She paused and sipped her coffee, taking in Sophie with her eyes. 'I really am keen to be your friend, Sophie. I really like you. And to prove it, I've asked my boss's wife to meet with you. She owns a little gallery smack bang in the middle of the city. Would you be interested in showing her your art?'

Sophie smiled directly at her. Since she'd been home, albeit without Alex, she'd been practising trusting herself and listening to what she really wanted, from deep inside of her. She could tell it was already taking effect because when she looked at Bree, everything inside of her said she was genuine: in her apology and in her gesture to help get her art sold. It felt right, all aligned, like there was nothing to fear. She followed that feeling. 'Oh Bree, I would love that. In fact, I've already been working on a new collection.' Sophie beckoned her into the dining room. 'It's called Abigail’s Liberty.'

Spread across three easels and lining the floor and dining table were all sized canvasses that sported various birds of distinction. Each piece depicted the birds doing something meaningful, like they were trying to communicate through the pieces; with a slight cock of the head or gracefully mid-flight. Sophie was so proud of them. The pressure valve had been released enough for her to explode her art everywhere. As she had always wanted. The freedom was intoxicating; realising her imagined world onto paper was the best drug, or path to sanity, she believed existed.

There was a silent and steady knowing within her that these pieces were the ones she'd been waiting her whole life to birth.

The birds were uncaged.

The end.

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