Finding My Will

Chapter 5

     The only place I knew to go was Thornfield, and now that I was here, I felt even more lost than before. No one had answered the door when I knocked so I was now wandering the halls alone.

     The thought I had swore not to think was now rising to the surface. What if he's dead? But how could that be the case when the real Rochester wasn't even here? I sat down in the hall of dead masters, and wiped the tears from my eyes. Maybe I could get myself committed so I could at least be with Fitz.

     Just as I was about to get up and leave, a man dressed in slightly ratty clothes clumsily sauntered out of the study with a bottle of rum in his hands.

     "Ah, I knew it'd be you," he slurred.

     "Monty!" I ran over and hugged him causing him to lose his balance. "You reek of alcohol."

     "That would make sense since I've been here drinkin' myself blind. Will's at Ferndean to answer your next question."

                                                                                             ***

                                                                                  [2 years later]

      At Ferndean, Monty had filled me in on what had happened after I was taken by Jem that night. Apparently, Bertha had come in and stole the revolver from Rochester. She shot him first, then the lawyer and the priest. She then put the tip of the revolver inside her mouth and shot herself. (Quite gory, apparently). Monty was short on cash and in England so Will wrote him a letter asking for help. He came and helped Will clean up the situation. (Monty had had practice with the Reed family, apparently. He killed them and made it look like a mass suicide. I was not sad at all when I heard of their deaths.) Technically, Will had done nothing wrong and was still Mr. Rochester. Everything worked out perfectly!

     The day I had come home, Will and I cried, laughed, and shared stories of our time apart. Adele was at Ferndean, too. Now, two years later, she speaks English fluently, and Will and I legally adopted her. We paid for a better spot for Fitz with Rochester's money, Monty went back to Ireland, and we never heard from Jem, or St. Jem, ever again. We stayed at Ferndean (a magical and idyllic country home) and sold Thornfield, using that money to sponsor Lowood School. We've had two kids during this time—a sister and a brother for Adele. I can now honestly and truly say that we are perfectly and incandescently happy.

                                                                                     THE END