Not Alone

At first, Enid wasn't sure she heard Morticia right. She was so tired she had to have been hearing things, right? An auditory hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and a minor head wound. That made more sense than what Morticia had said. Cursed? No, that couldn't be right. Enid wasn't an expert, but curses did not look like that, did they? There had to be a mistake. Wednesday was fighting a severe infection. It was horrible, terrifying but also something that can easily happen to any wound. Infections were normal, treatable…but curses?

"I'm sorry, I think I misunderstood you," Enid said, "what?"

"I think you heard me right," Morticia said gently, "it's the only thing that makes sense."

"But it doesn't make sense," Enid argued, "it's…it's just an infection. A bad one, really bad, but that's because it wasn't treated properly right away. We didn't even know she was shot until the next day when she couldn't even hide it anymore…"

"That does sound like Wednesday. And yes, on the surface that's what it looks like, and I wish that's all it was, but now that I'm here I can feel it. I can feel the energy radiating off of her," she said, her voice breaking, "it's faint, but that's only because my ability to sense such dark magic is not very strong, which means it is powerful."

"So, what do we do?" Enid asked, "If she's cursed, what does that even mean? Can we… break it? What's going to happen to her?"

"That we still need to figure out," she said, "but once we know exactly what kind of curse we're dealing with, then we will know the best way to help Wednesday fight it. I know it's some sort of death curse, but there are so many different kinds that have so many different ways to stop them, and unfortunately, the cure for one could make a different one worse, so we have to be careful."

Death curse? The thought made Enid feel sick to her stomach.

"In the meantime, I am going to prepare a powerful poultice for her wound. It's not a cure, but it will stop the poison from spreading, maybe even reverse it a little. If all goes well, not only will be buy her time, but we should see some improvements." She frowned, digging through the bag.

"What's wrong?"

"There's an ingredient I need but I don't seem to have," she muttered, "and ironically one of the easier ingredients to acquire. I suppose I could call Lurch…"

"What do you need?"

"Honey. But it has to be the real thing, pure, with no additives… I need it to bind the ingredients together, plus it has natural healing properties and…"

"I have some honey!" Enid exclaimed, "In my backpack."

"Really?" she seemed surprised, "Do you just carry around jars of honey often?"

Enid couldn't help but grin, "No, Eugene gave it to me! He's still here in the hospital and I went to see him while Wednesday was having some tests done earlier. I actually think it's honey that Wednesday herself harvested and gave to him while he was in his coma."

"Wonderful," Morticia said, as Enid grabbed it and handed her the jar. She inspected the amber contents and closed her eyes, going perfectly still for a moment as though in some sort of trance, but then she opened her eyes and smiled, "She did indeed harvest this. There is so much love in this jar, I can feel its energy being passed through it, from Wednesday to Eugene, Eugene to you and from you back to her. Full circle. This is better than I had hoped for. If that doesn't give the poultice some extra mojo to help it work then nothing will."

"Really?"

"I certainly hope so."

"How can I help?" Enid asked.

Morticia smiled, though her eyes were haunted with fear for her daughter, they were also filled with warmth, "Enid, dear, sweet girl, you have done so much already. All I need from you now is to get some rest. You need your strength and you look so terribly exhausted, more than anyone has any right to be."

Thing waved in agreement.

"I am, but I'm OK. I want to help."

"I know you do," she said, "and soon we will need your help, but first, you need to take the time to rest and to heal. Wednesday needs you to be strong and if she knew what happened to you with that horrible police officer, she would be furious and insist that you take care of yourself."

"I…I don't know if I can, not while…while she's…" Enid gestured towards Wednesday and choked out a sob. "I'm so scared," she cried, her mind reeling from everything that had happened the last couple of days on top of the new realization that they might still be in danger and now learning that Wednesday had been cursed? How could she possibly get the kind of rest she needed with all of this going on?

Morticia wrapped her arms around her, "I know, dear, I know. I am too," she admitted, "but we need you to try. Wednesday is safe and protected, and between the doctors and nurses and the arcane remedies Grandmamma taught me, she is in good hands. You did your part and you did it beautifully, but," her voice shifted, and while she was still soothing and reassuring, there was now a dark and almost cryptic layer to her tone, "when the time comes and we need your help again you will need your strength."

Enid glanced at her sharply, "What do you mean?"

"Whatever curse is plaguing Wednesday is strong, which means if we're to help her fight it, we need to be stronger. All of us," Morticia said. "so, here's the plan. You are going to lie down in one of these beds and close your eyes and do your best to relax while I prepare the poultice..."

"Am I…even allowed?" Enid glanced around in apprehension. They had already bent a few rules for them, wouldn't it be pushing their luck? "What if someone needs them?"

"Then you will vacate. But right now, what I see is you looking like you're going to pass out from exhaustion at any moment, and three empty beds in a ward of a hospital that even they have said is not busy. If they have a problem with it, they can go through me," Moritica shrugged like it was that simple.

"And they won't have a problem with it," Gomez said from the doorway to the room, "not anymore."

"Gomez, darling have you sorted everything out?" Morticia asked, gracefully moving to the foot of the bed to greet her husband.

"You are now looking at one of the proud owners of this fine establishment," Gomez declared.

"Wait, you bought the hospital?" Enid asked, peering around the corner of the curtain in disbelief, catching sight of Gomez and Pugsley and the nurse standing behind them looking bitter about the whole thing just before she walked away.

"Well, I am now a shareholder," he said, "so partially. And the Chief of Staff has permitted us to…" his words trailed off when he reached the privacy curtain and he laid his eyes on Wednesday. "Oh, my precious storm cloud, what have they done to you?" he asked softly.

Meanwhile, Enid noticed Pugsley lingering on the other side of the curtain, clearly afraid to see his sister in her state.

Unlike Morticia, who seemed afraid to touch her, Gomez did not hesitate to take the chair next to Wednesday, gently taking her bandaged hand and kissing it. He pressed his forehead against her hand, as though praying. Enid noticed his eyes sparkle with pain and sadness. Morticia wrapped her arms around him and sat partially on his lap and on the armrest of the chair, kissing the top of his head.

"Is it what we feared?" he asked, his voice grim.

"I'm afraid so," Morticia murmured softly, kissing him again in comfort.

"You're sure?"

"I can feel it," she replied. "She has been cursed. It's strong."

He let out a deep, sad sigh and closed his eyes. A lone tear escaped and left a trail down his cheek.

"But you can stop it though, right?" Pugsley asked, his voice small and trembling. They all turned to face him as he stood at the foot of the bed looking shell-shocked.

"We're going to try, darling. We're going to do anything and everything in our power to stop it," Morticia said, reaching out for him, inviting for him to come closer for a hug. Pugsley shook his head and backed up a step, his eyes wide. He seemed terrified.

"I…I can't," he said, "I'm sorry."

"Son, I know it's hard to see Wednesday like this…" Gomez offered.

"Hard? No. Hard is seeing Wednesday get sent away against her will and being left alone to fend for myself at school and having no one to talk to. That's hard. This? This is beyond hard. Seeing Wednesday like this is wrong," he said, "it's not her. It looks like her but it's not…she's…she's not supposed to be hurt like this…" he backed up another step. "I can't…she's suffering and I can't…"

Morticia stood up and approached him, arms outstretched in an attempt to pull him into a hug, "Darling…"

He backed up another step, "No! She wouldn't be suffering like this if you never sent her away!"

She was taken aback, "Pugsley…"

"I know you only wanted what was best for her, but look where it got her!" he hissed, his changing voice cracking, his eyes welling with tears.

Morticia reached him and wrapped her arms around him, "We're going to save her," she soothed gently. "We're not going to let this defeat her."

He wrapped his arms around his mother, clinging onto her tightly. "I know," he said, but he was struggling to accept it, "but it's wrong. She's not supposed to be so…lost."

Morticia brushed his hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead, "No, you're right, but she is, and I know how much it hurts. So now we'll just have to find her and help her find her way back. We will stop at nothing to break this curse and save her. She's strong, if anyone can beat this, it's her."

"It's not fair that she has to," he sobbed.

"I know darling," she soothed. "I know."

"You never should've sent her away…" he continued.

"Oh, my precious Pugsley, I'm sorry," she replied, "I'm sorry that you've been so alone. I'm sorry that this happened. But we had no way of knowing…"

"But you knew!" he snapped, "You knew there were people getting killed, you knew someone was after her…"

"And we know what she's capable of," she said. "We can't stop bad things from happening, all we can do is prepare you for when the bad things come. But if I knew any of this would happen, we would've done things differently, of course we would have. But even if she stayed home, there is no guarantee that this still wouldn't have happened. If Laurel Gates was determined to use Wednesday to resurrect Crackstone, she would have found a way, even if she had never gone to Nevermore."

"You don't know that," he argued.

"No, we don't. But from everything we've learned so far in hindsight, we know that she needed Wednesday for her evil spell, so what would've stopped her from coming to us if Wednesday never went?" Morticia asked, and she glanced at Enid, "For all we know, the outcome could've been far worse."

"We would've stopped her," Pugsley said.

"Perhaps, or perhaps she would've taken you instead," Morticia pointed out, "or your father. She had a whole community fooled; we met her; we too trusted her. You're right, we don't know what would've happened in this hypothetical situation. There is no way of knowing. All I knew was that going to Nevermore was what Wednesday needed. What both of you needed."

"It's been miserable, and not the fun kind," he said, turning his head to stare at his unconscious sister for a moment before he had to look away.

"I know, dearest Pugsley, I know," Morticia soothed. "But we need you to understand – we didn't want to send her away, it was one of the toughest things we've had to do, but Wednesday needed to go to Nevermore just as much as you needed this time to step out from her shadow and shine."

"I miss her," he whimpered.

She held him tightly, rocking him gently, "I know. We all do. But we'll get her back."

"But what if we don't? You even said you saw her die," he said, "in a vision."

Morticia hesitated, "When did you hear that?"

"When you were talking to Enid," he said, glancing in her direction, "Last night. Before we left. I couldn't sleep and I overheard you talking to her through the crystal ball."

"My visions are not always clear," she said. "It was more of a feeling. I could very well have misinterpreted it. So, don't lose hope yet, my dear Pugsley, not while she is still fighting."

"I know they're sometimes vague, but how often are your visions wrong, mom?" Pugsley challenged.

Morticia didn't seem to have an answer for that.

"If you had a vision of her death, then what makes you think we can save her?"

"Um," Enid cut in, not sure if she had any right to speak and interrupt, but when they looked at her she felt encouraged to continue, "I don't know if you know this but…" she hesitated. She debated whether she should tell them about the stabbing, about how she nearly died once before and would have died if Goody hadn't intervened. But there was something oddly intimate about that event, and private that she felt like it would be a betrayal to Wednesday to tell them. "After we spoke and I was getting ready for the ambulance, Wednesday…sh-she stopped breathing," her breath hitched at the memory, "c-could that be what you saw – er, felt?"

"My girl stopped breathing?" Morticia asked with a small voice, she clutched at her chest again in pain from the thought.

"For a few minutes," Enid confirmed, "but…I did CPR and then the paramedics came and we got her breathing again and then I guess on the way to the hospital she was intubated, but I'm not sure when they did that…"

Morticia clutched Pugsley tighter, and, still overcome with his anger and fear he buried his face in her shoulder. Glancing at Gomez she saw him squeeze Wednesday's hand a little tighter, his eyes fixated on her face while Thing remained at his spot on her uninjured shoulder.

"I knew that this ventilator was to help her breathe, but I didn't realize it was because she had stopped breathing altogether," Morticia continued, her voice hollow.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, it's just that…I know you said that the vision wasn't clear and you didn't see how it happened so… maybe what you felt in your vision, maybe it already happened and…and now that sh-she is past that point…maybe…maybe she'll be OK," Enid said, hoping that her words were truth. She didn't want to accept any other possible outcome of this ordeal, so Wednesday had to be OK.

They all took a moment to gather themselves and once she seemed satisfied that her son had calmed down, Morticia let him go and cleared her throat, delicately wiping away the moisture from her eyes, "Thank you, Enid. It seems you have saved her life more times than we realized, and this new revelation, though hard to hear is encouraging. We cannot change what has already happened and we cannot lose hope. We will do everything we can to help Wednesday fight this, and we don't have a lot of time. Enid, dear, lie down before you fall down."

Enid was startled by her gentle order, but Morticia was right to say it. As she had watched her and Pugsley argue, Enid was feeling more and more dizzy and exhausted. She wanted to stay and help, but the other beds in the room looked tempting. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open and her head was throbbing.

"You've done so well," she added, "so rest. It is well earned." Morticia guided her to the empty bed across the room, the one directly facing Wednesday's bed so Enid could still lie down while keeping Wednesday within her sight.

She was too tired to protest. Everyone who had called her out was right, she couldn't help Wednesday if she let herself get sick. And Wednesday now had her family to look after her.

All Enid said was, "Are you sure this is allowed?"

"Now that I am a shareholder, the Chief of Staff has given us permission to do whatever we need to do while Wednesday is a patient, so long as it doesn't interfere with the doctors and nurses, staff or the other patients," Gomez explained.

"See? It's fine dear, don't worry. All you need to worry about in this moment allowing yourself the chance to heal," Morticia said, urging her to lie down. "If the hospital needs the bed they can have it, but in the meantime, rest child." She lightly kissed the top of Enid's forehead in a motherly fashion, it threw her off guard, but it was also nice. "Pugsley darling, could you see if you can find a blanket for Enid?"

He nodded, seeming relieved to have a task and left the room.

"What is the plan, Tish?" Gomez asked.

"I am going to make the poultice and apply it to her wound. It should draw out the infection and slow its poison and hopefully stop it from spreading further. This will give us more time," she said, stroking Enid's hair softly, soothing her, "and we of course need to know what type of curse we're dealing with so we can find out how to break it."

"How will you be finding that out?" Enid asked, shielding her eyes from the light, trying to get comfortable, but finding the gentle feeling of Morticia lightly combing her fingers through her hair relaxing and warm.

"Gomez, I know you're not going to like this, but while I am doing this, I need you to get the arrow that struck her."

"My love, please tell me you're not planning to do what I think you are."

"It will be the fastest way to find out what kind of magic curse was placed on it," she said, "and we will need the staff he used. If that was the source of Crackstone's power, we don't want it to fall into the wrong hands."

"I don't think it will be easy," Enid said, "the police had been all over the school – they might be in evidence now."

"Excellent, I love the challenge," Gomez grinned, "but Tish, if you don't get a vision, then don't…"

"One way or another I will."

"But you know how dangerous it can be to force a vision…"

"She's worth the risk."

"Of course, she is Cara Mia, of course, but if something happened to you too, the torture would be too much to bear."

"And I cannot bear the torture of seeing Wednesday like this, so we must do everything we can. She does not have the time for us to figure it out the hard way. Hopefully, a vision will come easily to me, but if not there is nothing that will stop me from doing what I have to do," Morticia said.

"Then let us hope it does not come to that," he kissed the back of Wednesday's hand again and stood just as Pugsley returned with a blanket and someone else following him into the room.

Thing quickly ducked out of sight as an older doctor entered. He glanced at Enid with a disapproving frown. She shrunk under his quick gaze, still feeling like she was doing something wrong, but then the doctor turned his attention to Wednesday and seemed taken aback by the various vials and oddities on the table next to her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Addams, I presume," he greeted. "My name is Dr. Milford, I have been put in charge of Wednesday's care, do you have a moment to talk?"

"Of course," Gomez said as he and Morticia approached him.

"Perhaps you should take a seat," he suggested, "you may want to sit down for what I have to say."

Enid sat up, her anxiety rising at the grimness of his tone and Gomez and Morticia both stiffened while Pugsley seemed to shut him out, taking the seat at Wednesday's bedside and looking up at the monitors and machines keeping her alive. He looked as tense and scared as Enid felt.

Wednesday's parents didn't move, choosing to stand.

Dr. Milford shrugged and said, "I've been going over her charts and we've been monitoring her bloodwork. Her blood count is still dangerously low and I know you were averse to the idea of allowing a transfusion and only permitted us to give her just enough to stabilize her, but the amount of blood loss she has experienced warrants at least another round or two."

"Whatever you need to do, doctor," Gomez said, "we respect your expertise."

Dr. Milford nodded, "To be honest, I am still baffled that she had lost as much blood as she had. While a wound such as hers would cause significant blood loss, the arrow did not hit any major arteries and should have clotted before she could've bled out as much as she had. We need to ask again, are you sure she's not on any blood thinners?"

"No," Morticia said, "as we stated over the phone she's not on any medication."

"OK," Dr. Milford's expression shifted, "good to know. Now, I'm going to be quite frank, Mr. and Mrs. Addams, we've been monitoring Wednesday closely, and we have tried different types of antibiotics and she has shown no signs of improvement and we have yet to identify the type of bacteria that's infecting her but it's aggressive. We've drained much of the infection from her wound and her lungs and it keeps coming back, faster than we can fight it. Added to that she had a serious seizure earlier which is very concerning and there are anomalies in her brain that we have yet to figure out, but there is also increased activity in the part that signals pain."

"But…I thought coma patients can't feel pain," Enid exclaimed. At least Eugene didn't.

"They sometimes can, and we have pre-emptively put Wednesday on painkillers, but they do not appear to be working. We're also very concerned about the strain the blood loss and infection have put on her heart. Her body is failing and I believe that the only course of action is surgery to remove as much of the infection as we can before it's too late. We would like to have her prepped and ready for surgery within the next two hours."

"OK…" Gomez said hesitantly, "if you feel it is necessary…"

"Isn't there another way?" Enid asked, remembering Lorraine's warnings about what surgery would mean for Wednesday.

"However, due to the high risks involved and the nature of this surgery, before we can proceed we will need your signed consent," he said, ignoring Enid and handing Gomez a clipboard and pen.

"High risk? What do you mean high risk?" Gomez asked.

"Since this infection is aggressive, we need to be even more aggressive and take drastic measures," he explained. "We intend to remove as much of the infected tissue as we can, but since it is in her shoulder and so close to her heart and lungs, it will be tricky and while we will try to save her arm, she will lose her ability to use it and chances are high that we may need to amputate altogether, and possibly part of her shoulder itself but we won't know until we are in there. We have excellent surgeons who will do their best to minimize the damage, but either way, this surgery will be life-altering, but she is not improving so at this point it is the only course of action that will potentially save her life."

Enid was heartbroken by the prognosis, and looking at Wednesday's family, they seemed to be too.

"Also, given her vitals, the risks are very high that she won't survive the procedure," he added. "But not taking any action, it is pretty much a guarantee. I am so sorry."

"No!" Enid whimpered, not even recognizing her voice, "There's…there's got to be another way…"

"Thank you, Dr. Milford, for all that you have done to care for Wednesday," Morticia said, her voice trembling, "but we will not sign it. We do not consent to allowing such an invasive and dangerous surgery."

"But Mrs. Addams…by not signing, you are consenting to let her die. Her body is failing and there have been no signs of improvement. Her condition is getting worse. Without it, she will only have a few days left, at best," he protested, "I would be surprised if she lasts until morning."

Morticia nodded, wiping away some rogue tears, though she still held her head high, "We understand, but Wednesday would not want this."

Dr. Milford frowned, visibly frustrated as he tried to remain professional, "It would be an adjustment, but we have programs and therapy that would help her learn to adapt and cope, and if it comes to it, prosthetics and technology have come a long way to help amputees and…"

"That's not what I mean. It's not ideal, for sure, but the possibility of amputation doesn't scare us. Yes, Wednesday would be devastated to have to lose her arm and give up the cello, yes, it would be hard but we know she's resilient and driven and would adapt and overcome, and we would support her every step of the way. But she would be furious and may never forgive us if we allowed this without trying every other avenue first."

"Then I suggest you start making arrangements," he sighed, "and prepare to say goodbye."

"Nonsense," Morticia said, "you and your team have done a wonderful job and we appreciate all the efforts that you have made, but we have our own medicine," she gestured to the table with all her vials of potions, the tea, Eugene's honey, and the mortar and pestle, "and if you don't mind, we are going to try that now."

"I don't think you should be doing that," he said, "I don't even know what that is or what you intend to do with it but I advise against…"

"Dr. Milford," Morticia her voice calm but commanding, containing a darkness that made Enid shiver, "are you really trying to talk me out of taking care of my own daughter?"

"It could interfere with the medication she is already on."

"She's dying, Dr. Milford, you said so yourself and your surgery might kill her anyway, so what do we have to lose to try? Our methods have helped outcast families for centuries," she said, "and with all due respect to your diagnosis and suggestion, I would like a second opinion."

He sighed, "I can get you that but..."

"We are not signing this consent form. However, if this does nothing then…then we will allow you to do whatever is necessary," she said. "After we get that second opinion."

"Mrs. Addams, if we wait too long it might be too late. The longer we wait the higher the chances she won't survive surgery."

"That is our decision, and that is final," she said. Though she still seemed calm, Enid could tell she was losing her patience and it was terrifying. "Now please, Wednesday has waited long enough so go and let me work. No more interruptions. Enid, rest. Gomez, Pugsley you know what I need. Dr. Milford, thank you, now please go, find someone who can give me a second opinion and close the door on your way out. I don't want to interfere with anyone's job but I do not want anyone else coming into this room for at least an hour."

"What about you Mr. Addams, is this what you want for your daughter?"

"You heard my wife," Gomez said, handing him the consent form.

He sighed and left, closing the door behind him as Morticia asked him to.

As soon as the door closed Morticia released a shaky breath and doubled over, trembling. Gomez wrapped his arm around her. "Oh, I hope we are doing the right thing…" she whispered, like she was going to break down.

"It's a curse. We both know surgery won't stop it," Gomez said. "Nothing they can do will stop it."

"Yes. The only thing that will save her is stopping the curse itself. But if we're to buy her time we need to keep the poison from spreading further," she agreed, "so I must work quickly. So, go, get the arrow and the staff, I need to concentrate so I need to work alone."

"Of course, my love," he agreed, "come on Pugsley. Let's go break into police evidence, it'll be fun. Like old times."

Pugsley sighed, "It won't be the same without Wednesday though."

"I know, son," he said sympathetically, "but we're doing this for Wednesday."

Pugsley nodded and leaned in close to Wednesday's ear and whispered something no one else could hear and then he and Gomez left, leaving just Enid and Morticia and Thing.

Morticia approached Enid and gently placed the blanket over her, tucking her in "I know it's hard to relax at a time like this," she said, her voice even but urgent, "but we need you to try. I am terribly worried about you. You've been through so much and we don't want you falling ill. Wednesday needs you, so you need to take care of yourself," she combed her hair out of her face with her fingers. "And after you get some sleep, we are going to get you something to eat. I'll bet you must be hungry."

"Thanks," Enid said.

"Close your eyes, dear," she instructed and Enid did as she was told.

She felt Morticia gently stroke her hair which did help her relax just enough to surrender to her exhaustion. The motion was almost hypnotic and even when Enid felt her stop and heard her cross the room to Wednesday's bed, she could still feel the memory of her gentle, motherly touch.

Her own mother never cared for her that way. Not even when she was little. It wasn't that her own mother didn't care, but she was not nearly as nurturing or gentle and Enid felt a strange nostalgia for something that never was.

Enid didn't think she would be able to relax enough to fully fall asleep, but she focused on the sound of Morticia creating the poultice, letting it drown out the persistent and sometimes frighteningly uneven and rapid beep of Wednesday's heart monitor and the steady whoosh of the ventilator. She listened to the rustle of the tea leaves as Morticia poured them into the stone bowl, the grinding, crunching sound as she turned it into what Enid imagined was a fine powder. She focused on the sound and smell from her opening and closing some vials, opening the little mason jar of Eugene's honey, and mixing it into the bowl. The smell was bitter at first, but as she mixed it, it became almost sickly sweet.

She opened her eyes, curious and watched as Morticia stood up grabbed a pair of sterile gloves and put them on. She watched her peel back the bandage on Wednesday's shoulder and empathized with Morticia's pained reaction upon seeing the wound for the first time. It hurt Enid to see it when she first discovered that her shoulder was injured, and it probably looked even worse now.

Enid closed her eyes, listening as Morticia opened the medicine bag and flipped through some pages of a book before she then she spoke softly, with a distinct cadence and rhythm. It sounded like it could be Latin, but Enid wasn't sure. She hoped that whatever spell Morticia was casting, that it would help.

Enid watched in secret as Morticia gently applied the poultice to Wednesday's shoulder, softly repeating the words of the spell. Enid blinked heavily, mesmerized by the sight. When Morticia was done she reapplied the bandage and took off the gloves, turning her head towards Enid who quickly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. If Morticia caught her watching, she never said a word about it.

She listened as Morticia whispered softly to Wednesday something Enid couldn't hear and then she hummed a haunting little tune. It was meant for Wednesday's ears, but the melody helped finally lull Enid to the point where she was able to drift off into a short and restless slumber.