"You are not going to die," Marcello replied. "Do you know how long you've been gone here?" he asked her. He held his fingers up. "Three days. You were only gone three days. We have been looking and looking and looking for you. All your toys and clothes from when you were a tiny girl are all in your mother's room. Mister Tumnus did that. He took you, and then made time go faster so that you'd really be his. The same thing happened to me, once, only it was less time. I was gone for two hours, and I came back and found out that a whole month passed without me. The reason I am not contacting Mister Tumnus is what I already said: I am sure he will come on his own if he wishes. Nothing has ever stopped him before."

Marcello lifted the tart off his shirt. "He already did something dreadful to us," Marcello answered, a little rigidly. "He stole you. He didn't rescue you. He stole you. And he did know us and he knew where we were and he never told us he had you or offered to bring you back. He kidnapped you and made you hate your mother."

"No," Marcello replied. "I'm not trying to make you do anything. I am trying to explain that Morgana loves you and misses you and none of us really know what to do with you because three days ago, you were six years old. We were looking for a little girl, not a young lady."

"We might decide to do that," Marcello answered. "But I'm not your mother. Morgana is. I can just give her my advice. Would you like your tart back?" he asked, holding out the crushed, mushy tart.

"Well, I'm not going to keep you locked up," Marcello answered. "But I don't think I can take you back home. I'm sorry you won't be eating," he said, as he ate her tart as well.