In the wee hours of morning which loomed in Vermont, the scintillating, saturating sun rays dispersed through the big French window in the couple's bedroom which was located on the second floor.

Jude and Timothy were slumbering beyond serenely in one another's arms as their light snores boated up in the room. They made love to one another the night before once they beheld their love child for first time ages after she was being seperated from them when they were yet pious members of the church. All they wanted was to numb the severe, somber heartache they experienced whenever they think of their sole daughter they had or otherwise see her on a photo or somewhere else.

In this moment, the former nun came to her senses at last as she rubbed with her creamy, milky fists her drowsy honey brown eyes, setting free an ordinary yawn by stretching her arms though she realized eventually she had no single garment or lingerie, hugging her slender, still appealing body for her midlife age.

Afterwards she wriggled by releasing herself from her husband's arms without waking him up by getting from the king-sized bed and pacing up to the en-suite bathroom by cleaning herself and brush her teeth, hence, tying her robe with a belt and hopping up in comfy slippers, walking away from the bedroom, in order to brew some coffee and prepare French toast for breakfast as well.

When the blonde descended the stairs and headed towards the kitchen by brewing some coffee and flipping the pancakes that motionlessly were roasting per a several minutes until it darkened on each side. The scrumptious aroma of pancakes and brewing coffee quickly overspread on the first floor until its poignant, nevertheless delicious scent was exceedingly invading the second floor either.

As soon as the former man of the cloth stirred up, he woke up in an empty bed as he got from it immediately and dressing himself up in casual garments such as plain navy blue jeans, white practical T-shirt, outlining his toned chest and muscular, potent arms. Then Timothy walked away from the bedroom as he set a foot in the hallway, an acute aroma of mouth-watering breakfast was coming from downstairs, toying with his sensitive, frail nostrils and coming to the conclusion why Jude got up earlier, in order to make a breakfast for themselves.

Shortly after he escorted the fragrance, coming from downstairs by imposing the wooden stairway as Jude heard sounds of footsteps as she readily recognized its source. It was her husband, of course. When the coffee was finally brewed while the pancakes were roasting, she poured hot coffee in 2 clean mugs, meantime Timothy propped on the doorframe, watching Jude who was sadly looking in their love child's baby picture, as a sole memory they have collected with their daughter. 

She sobbed inwardly to herself, lowered her head by grieving over inability of not seeing her in person and tell her how much she does loves her, regardless what kind of a person she became nowadays. Bitter tears poured down her brittle cheeks, grasping the vintage photo in two of her fingers, vaguely trembling when she contemplated Odette's baby face. She resembled her both parents though she was more father's daughter in appearance. 

The younger man ideally recognized her grief and sorrow, oozing from her. Not only in her facial expression which was imprinted on her palish, tear-stained face, moreover in her hardly controlled sobs and gushing down tears, welling in her puffy, reddish honey brown eyes. 

Instead of contemplating the grim scenery of his wife crying, he walked up to her, factly, to soothe her.

"Good morning, rare bird! Is everything alright?" Timothy stammered, struggling to utter each syllable when he beheld his wife in a condition which he detested to see her. So vulnerable. So shieldless. Fulfilled with endless agony and wretchedness. She instantly acknowledged his presence in the kitchen as she averted her swollen eyes from the old photo, shifting them directly to his warm, reassuring chocolate brown eyes, filled with love, dolefulness and warmness, colliding altogether as opposites. 

"Not that good morning, honey! It deeply hurts me." Her incessant, louder wails swam in the kitchen as Timothy snaked his strong, muscular arms around her waist, pulling her in a tight, warm hug as she held the photo, incapable of resisting its urge to throw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his neck. "I want to see Odette, no matter what blocks our path from accomplishing this, Timothy!"

"It's okay, rare bird! It hurts me either but we should leave for Florida as soon as possible."

A several seconds passed as they relished its embrace until they broke it off at last, withdrawing their faces by admiring one another's facial features, her petite hands pawing his shoulders. Her mane of old Hollywood unkempt, wild curls descended down her upper back, framing her pale, porcelain, nonetheless beautiful tear-stained complexion. Her wails didn't subdue at all. They were rather continuous, spreading like a viral epidemy. 

"It's going to take a long time until we arrive in Florida though I'm not a huge fan of Elsa Mars." Then she retreated to the radio by plugging it in the socket, humming in attempt to reassure herself and clarifying Timothy for the coffee, leaving back the only photo she had of their own daughter on the counterplot, a couple of inches sharing proximity with the mugs. "In addition, the coffee's ready!" 

"I see!" The mugs of hot caffeine beverages weren't left unnoticed by the former holy man. "When the breakfast will be ready?"

"Extremely soon!" When she switched the radio station to the morning news, suddenly the both former devotional members of the church froze when they were all ears for the morning news, drawing instantly their attentions as well. 

"This morning, the young singer, known as friend of the former Freak show owner Elsa Mars, Odette Beatrix Martin Howard, was arrested and accused in physical violence over one of her fans under drug's influence, according to one of the people who reported her the night before when she held a show with the German emigrant!" The radio journalist announced seriously, emotionlessly the recent news as Jude clamped with a hand her mouth in her own horror when the radio news mentioned her daughter's name, whereas Timothy dropped accidentally the mug of coffee as its porcelain pieces were scattered on the tiled flooring of the kitchen when he heard about Odette being charged in violence and usage of drugs.  

"I can't believe what fucking liars are these journalists. Can't they just leave my heart alone?" The blonde muttered desperately by sniffling as Timothy embraced her, finding himself in dumbfound condition as much as Judy. 

"They're lying! I scarcely believe our daughter can be as violent as a vicious wolf." The former priest rubbed her back as his fingers tipped cotton's fabric as his chin rested on her head.

"It's not only that. Odette Beatrix refuted the circumstances of demonstrating hints of violence the last night during her show with Elsa Mars. Furthermore, the young woman is currently being transported in Boston and committed as a patient in one of the most notorious asylums in Massachusetts, Briarcliff Manor with its leader Father Alexander Stanley McKenzie. When she refuted the charges, she was accused in being mentally instable and that's one of the essential reasons why she's mercilessly being committed as a patient in a mental institution for criminally insane lunatics." In the meantime, Jude glanced at the love of her life's horrified, palish face as she mildly withdrew her face from his neck. She halted her own wails as they diminished in the vacuum. Her glance transformed in a transfixed gaze, inked on her complexion. Exposing its genuine nunaces of her recent emotions and feelings. Heartbreak for hearing the radio journalist's fake news as she wasn't fond of them at all and knew right away the truth behind its fake news. At least, the both anxious parents acknowledged their current daughter's location. "Even more, Mrs. Mars didn't miss her opportunity to express her frustration over Odette's arrest."

"I truly believe she's going to stand for her!" Jude whispered in low voice as it was solely audible for Timothy, ringing a requem in his ears. It was her last hope the bright star of Hollywood to stand for her best friend without hesitancy. 

"Mrs. Mars, what's your commentary on your friend's arrest, taking its place in her apartment?"

"What I can say is it's truly unfair, because she has never showed any signs of either physical or mental violence towards any of the fans, who were on the night before's show, watching our show as well!" What it predominated in her stern, firm German accent, accenting on her pronounciation was actually a sheer disappointment and wrath over nobody else than the journalists themselves, who wanted immediately to hear her personal opinion on the vexing topic, regardless what she thinks of it. 

"Well, Mrs.Mars!" The journalist who was briefly interviewing the German emigrant was not only exasperating her, moreover the married couple, who paid utterly attention to the morning news via the radio, playing in the kitchen's background. "Could you tell us, please, if it's definitely true Ms. Martin Howard was under drugs' influence?"

"I swear for hundredth time, she was never doing drugs even the night before. She ordered for herself a martini though it sedated her as she was unconscious afterwards. I don't want to talk about this incident, but she's innocent in every way."

***

"You cannot drive me to this place, where the least I belong especially for being falsely accused in something which I have nothing to do with." The arrested young singer protested though the policemen' smug smiles glowed on their slightly wrinkled faces as their darkened eyes, fueled with searing enmity and burning abhor were darted to their way, focused on their driving, ignoring the brunette's pleas. 

"Shut up, you little twat! You got yourself in such enormous trouble." The cop, who wasn't driving turned to her as he earned her malicious glare as her blood boiled in sizzling manner, clutching tightly her teeth. The older man guffawed in vile way, bluntly taunting the younger lady.

"Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining!" The young lady retorted wisely as she squirmed her handcuffed wrists, struggling with them as they were incommodious for her, barely having any freedom to do anything with them, leaving tracks of welts and ruddy tints, embossed on her wrists. 

"Oh! You're so stubborn and vain!" The same police officer yelled, raising his voice undertone in a matter of seconds without causing her to shudder and express her apprehension. 

"I'm telling you for thousandth time, I have never been under drugs' influence and harming physically anybody the last night. Perhaps you're arresting exactly the wrong person, who has nothing to do with something which makes no sense at all." 

"It's better to keep your mouth shut, young lady!" The other policeman menaced harshly, rolling his eyes as he verged to raise his voice at the brunette, due to her self-defense. "If you prefer to keep yourself out of worse trouble."

Thereafter the orphan kept her tongue behind her teeth without furthering with its heating debate between her and the authorities, who were far from interested in blandly arguing with a falsely charged person especially her. 

***

"Elsa, my amorous angel," The Italian stuttered as he snuck up in their bedroom when he beheld Elsa sitting on the edge of their king-sized bed, covering her face with her both hands and helplessly bewailing, mourning over her friend's clueless arrest. In the interim, he strolled up to his wife, keeping instantly his wits about her downhearted condition. What the middle-aged man hated most of all was actually seeing the blonde weeping and demonstrating her weaker, unguarded and sorrowful condition which whacked his heart, cracking it on galore, miniature pieces. "Is Odette feeling better?" He was also concerned for their secondary daughter they were doted on for a handful of years, sitting alongside her by dangling his arms around her upper back.

"No, no! They arrested her. Oh! Scheisse!" She cried out loud, feeling the absorbed warmth of Massimo's body, conveying to hers in a jiffy. "Why they deserves this?"

"The police trusts no one at all, in my opinion. Despite the fact she's innocent and has nothing to do with committing a crime!" Massimo pecked a kiss on the top of the middle-aged mother's temple, trying to alleviate her. 

"Ja! Ich hasse die Polizei!" In this moment, the blonde removed her hands from her face by wiping her last tumbling down tears as her husband understood what she said in German as he had a tad knowledge of speaking fluently German via her. The truth was pecualiarly obvious. Elsa disdained the authorities and she has never been their fan at all as she perfectly, lucidly recalled memories from a decade ago when she owned the Freak show yet in Jupiter, Florida and the police officers arrived and put the blame on the freaks, whom she perceived them as her own family. Family, she used to rely on and adore from the bottom of her heart.

"I hate them either. It's not Odette's fault at all. I think they're mistaking her for somebody else or who knows."

"If she never returns back ever again?" All of a sudden, Elsa pressumed the worst, pursing her lips in jaded manner by resting her head on her husband's shoulder. Fortunately, Evelyn wasn't at home as she was at school right now, not being involved in this contentious question. In the meanwhile, she closed her eyelids reluctantly, relishing its moment of being encompassed with love, warmness and comfort.

"Elsa, do not say this! We will see her one day in the near future." Massimo answered courageously, emboldening her by opting to persuade her sooner or later Odette is going to reborn and raise herself from the ruins, fogged in the ebon darkness. "At least, her parents are in Boston and they are already aware she's going to be committed by trying to help her to get her out of the hellhole."

"I don't know if their current residence is in Boston, but I hope they find any traces of their daughter, trapped in the void."

***

Hours later after the young singer arrived with the authorities in Boston via a flight for Boston and then processing with driving transport, they drove her to the mental institution as the grand yard of the old, nevertheless austere building wasn't crowded with any population at all with a few exceptions as well of roaming nuns. 

When the vehicle parked nigh the tree, the police officers got from their cars as one of them helped the brunette to get out of the vehicle within seconds as she expressed gratitude, faking her affable demeanor towards them though they didn't deserve her respect. Hence, the police dragged her to the double front door as the authorities were warmly welcomed by the young nun, Sister Mary Eunice, who innocently waited for them on the stone threshold, playing uneasily with her white like vanilla, well-defined fingers. She offered them a childish smile, curled up in the corner of her lips.

"Hello, Sister! Here's one lunatic whose place is right there." Meanwhile Mary Eunice scrutinized the slightly older woman's face, her ocean blue eyes wandering up and down by observing her body language and manners in a quick scan, spotting somewhat something which has nothing to do with lunatism at all. In spite of the hints of lacking insanity in Odette, the sister of the church must abide professional and do whatever the police told her or otherwise Father McKenzie will be obnoxiously disappointed of her irresponsibility. 

"Hello! I think there's something innocent about her. I doubt it this miss belongs here." The young blonde opted to confront the cops as her heart heavily pulsated in her frail chest, emphasizing the word innocent which earned Odette's bewildered, however, smug look on her youthful face. Initially, Odette thought it was somewhat bizarre when the young nun mentioned the word innocent, in spite of she has always expected the worst in every moment of her flourishing life. 

"Sister, you don't understand how dangerous is this young lady over there!" The second policeman coughed dramatically, dryly by grasping the singer's wrist without releasing her from its grip. "She was in involved in club fight under drugs' influence, without figuring out what she has done to her harmed victim." He furrowed his thick, hairy eyebrows. 

"That's bullshit, you piece of shit!" Odette squirmed in the grip, snapping at the cop by rolling her hazel eyes, filled with tremendous anger and thirst for vengeance. 

"Language, Odette!" The first policeman cautioned her by violently, remorselessly pushing the arrested woman through the double front door, entering inside as they stepped in the lobby. "Sister, take care of this mentally sick cuckoo before everything is out of control."

"Of course, sir! Thank you for bringing her there!" In this moment, the authorities left the facility's area by heading towards the policecar and getting back to work, while Mary Eunice guided the yet struggling older lady to the hydrotherapy. 

"What the heck is this place?" The brunette exclaimed in stoic way by scanning in a simple eyeing the nuthouse as its pugnant stench reached her nose within seconds, as a result of poor hygiene, acute, noxious prescribed medicaments and urine predominated as smells inside the façade. Stench which peaked her to nauseate and throw up as soon as possible. She was never been in an asylum in her life though she remembered she was born there and being deprived from the vile claws of the stern, stony-hearted nuns. Mary Eunice couldn't help but blush when she heard the recently committed inmate swearing. 

"It's a place for criminally insane, who don't belong in the society. I can't believe what you have done so that to be brought there." The adolescent replied calmly as they paced up in the dim lit hallway, leading to the hydrotherapy.

"I have done nothing wrong. I have never even attacked a single person with malice."

"I still can't trust you yet, dear! You need to relax." The holy woman convinced the juvenile, aspiring singer as they stepped in the hydrotherapy room by stripping each garment of her until she was naked. 

"Noo! Sister, you shall listen to my story instead of believing these lying cops."

"I'm so sorry but may I know your name, Miss?" The blonde didn't know the love child's name as its question was in oblivion until she figured out she should inquire her right away about her name.

"I'm Odette Beatrix Martin Howard!" The young woman panted, spelling her name as her feet set a foot in the boiling, sufficiently hot water in the bathtub until she reclined on the rim of the marble bath, sinking as she looked up at Mary Eunice's young-looking, inquisitive face, who supervised her all alone in the room.

To be continued...