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Ivy lay gasping for breath on the ground, only vaguely aware of Henry shouting at the Horseman. Her shoulder was in searing pain and bleeding profusely.
"I told you, Horseman! You were not to harm her! You were to protect her." Henry shouted.
Ivy screamed as the Horseman pulled the blade from her shoulder and saw Henry bend over her.
"Are you all right?" Henry asked.
Ivy shook her head and tried to speak as she watched in horror as the Horseman raised the blade and swung, swiftly cutting off his head. Henry's head landed on her chest, his dead eyes staring blankly into hers.
Ivy screamed again and bolted upright, her eyes flung open to reveal herself in her own room at the old Van Tassel house. Her father and mother were there, along with the doctor, who was holding a cloth to her head. Katrina had to hold Ivy down while she was calming her.
"It's okay, my dear." Katrina said, soothingly. "You're home now."
"What?" Ivy asked, confused. "I'm home?"
"Yes, darling." Katrina said.
"How did I get here?"
"Masbeth heard you screaming in the woods, and he found you. You've had a fever for two days." Ichabod explained.
"Where is Masbeth?"
"He's downstairs," Katrina said. "He thought you should be only with family right now."
"Oh." Ivy said, laying back on her bed. "I want......to...see-"
Ivy fell asleep. She had nightmares about Henry being beheaded. She woke every few hours, gasping for breath. She saw the blue dress draped over a chair by the window, a huge rip in the left shoulder. She got up, straightened her night gown and walked to her wardrobe, pulling out a suit. Ivy dressed as fast as her shoulder would allow then walked downstairs.
"Good morning, Mother. Father." Ivy sat down at the wooden table in the kitchen.
"Are you all right?" Katrina asked, taking a pot off the fire.
"Yes, I'm fine." Ivy said.
"Oh, dear," Katrina said, looking in the pantry. "We've run out of tea."
"May I go into town, Mother?" Ivy asked anxiously. "I could get the tea for you."
Ichabod and Katrina shared a look, and Ichabod smiled and nodded almost invisibly.
"Of course, Ivy. Take Midnight, ok?"
"I will." Ivy ate the oatmeal that her mother sat in front of her. "Thank you. I'm going to go into town, now."
"Very well." Ichabod said.
Ivy ran out to the stables and saddled Midnight in record time. In minutes she was galloping towards town. As she rode across the old wooden bridge, she heard the church bells tolling. Curious, she reigned her horse to the gate by the church. The people stared at her as she walked by, whispering. There was a casket in the front of the church and she walked to it. Inside was Henry's body, his head where it belonged. As the priest stepped up to the pulpit to say the eulogy, he saw Ivy standing at the casket crying softly.
'He may have been mad,' Ivy thought to herself. 'But at least he cared.'
The priest cleared his throat and Ivy backed away slowly, sitting in the front pew. The priest spoke about Henry and Ivy stood and walked out.
"IT'S HER FAULT HE'S DEAD!!!" A woman's voice cried out. "SHE'S THE ONE WHO KILLED HIM!!!"
Ivy turned and saw an elderly woman standing and pointing at her.
"I did nothing, madam." Ivy said. "He was killed by the Headless Horseman."
"The Horseman does not exist anymore! Ichabod Crane ridded Sleepy Hollow of him, you ignorant girl."
Ivy felt her temper rising and tried to control it. "Ichabod Crane is my father and I saw the Horseman kill Henry with my own eyes."
The woman walked down the aisle, coming to a halt in front of Ivy. She stared at Ivy for a moment, then slapped her, the sound echoing off the walls of the church. Ivy felt the sting of the slap but didn't flinch.
"It's your fault my son is dead." The woman said. "IT'S YOUR FAULT!"
"Your son kidnapped me, madam! When I tried to escape, the Horseman brought me back to him. The Horseman wounded me with his own sword then killed Henry as he knelt by me to see how I fared." Ivy couldn't control her temper any longer. She took off her suit jacket, pulled out the dagger that she had carried for protection, and ripped her sleeve off-revealing the red wound.
"Is this proof enough for you, madam? Is it? Or do you need me to take you back into the woods to show you the blood on the Tree of the Dead? Is that what you want?!"
Ivy turned and stormed out, replacing the dagger in her pocket. Muttering to herself, she went to the store and bought the tea leaves her mother needed. When she got home, she stabled her horse, walked in the house and gave her mother the leaves. Ivy went to the attic and stared out the window. She started to cry again, harder this time. Ichabod heard her and walked up.
"What's wrong, Ivy?" Ichabod asked.
Ivy told him what had taken place at the church. She cried harder when she asked, "Why are they blaming me, Father? Why me?"
"I don't know, Ivy." Ichabod said, holding her tightly. "I don't know, but I intend to find out."
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