The chapel, once prepared for a wedding, was now draped in black cloth.
Where flowers were meant to adorn the altar, a coffin and lilies now rested. The officiant, who was supposed to conduct the wedding, was instead leading a funeral mass.
The funeral was solemn and quiet throughout. The woman who had lost her mother was so overcome with shock that she couldn’t even attend. A few townspeople and Dr. Brent stayed by the grave until the very end, standing beside the imposing figure of Mr. Winkle.
It was the first time Brent had seen his employer up close. He was younger and more handsome than expected, but there was an eerie aura about him.
Just as Brent turned to leave after the ceremony, a familiar face approached him.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Brent.”
“Anna.”
Her eyes were swollen, likely from crying throughout the service.
“I’m truly sorry. A beast, they said.”
The story he had heard was this: A wild animal, desperate for food in the winter, had entered through an open door and killed the two women. The sharp teeth marks suggested it was either a wolf or a wild dog.
“If only I had been at the estate…”
“Who could have known this would happen? It’s not your fault, Anna.”
Brent gently patted her shoulder as she began to sob again, offering her comfort. After a while, Anna managed to stop crying and looked up.
“I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
Offering a shoulder to cry on was the least he could do. After all, the deceased had been his patient, and he had managed to save one woman.
“Well, I must go prepare for Susan’s funeral.”
“Take care. I should go check on the lady of the house.”
Anna dabbed at her remaining tears with a handkerchief before saying goodbye. Brent turned and climbed into the waiting carriage.
As the carriage rolled on, he muttered to himself while gazing out the window.
“She needs to wake up soon…”
He felt sorry for the bride who had lost her mother just before her wedding. Brent had tried to see Charlotte for a consultation, but he was always turned away with the explanation that she would call for him once she woke up.
Witnessing the horror firsthand, he could only imagine the shock she had endured. He prayed for Charlotte to wake up soon.
And then, one day, Charlotte Winkle—no, Charlotte Hegel—disappeared.
Brent heard the news much later.
***
A woman lifted her newly mended dress and marveled at it.
“It’s perfect! Thank you, Cecile.”
“I’m glad you’re satisfied.”
“I was a bit worried because this place is so remote, but the rumors were true. I love it.”
The customer, smiling, paid the remaining balance. Charlotte, who had taken the money at the counter, smiled as she saw her off. The small tailor shop fell silent again after the doorbell tinkled and the customer left.
Charlotte picked up the fabric she had been working on and opened a drawer to get her needle and thread. Just as she was about to focus, the bell rang again, signaling another visitor. Charlotte’s face lit up when she saw who it was.
“Zhenya.”
“How have you been, Charlotte?”
“Thanks to you, I’ve been well. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“Why thank me? It’s your own skill that’s brought you success.”
Zhenya, as vibrant and glamorous as she was two years ago, placed a paper bag on the counter. Inside were sandwiches.
“Have you had lunch yet?”
“I was just about to.”
“Oh, come on, don’t lie. I brought this so we could eat together.”
“Thank you.”
Charlotte cleared away her sewing materials and brought over a small console table, placing it in front of Zhenya.
“Please, have a seat. It’s still a bit messy because the place is so small.”
“I understand completely. I started out with a small shop too. And honestly, this looks pretty good.”
Zhenya sat down and glanced around. The shop was a tiny space of about 15 square meters, opened just three months ago in a remote part of town. The only furniture was a display cabinet draped with various fabrics, a counter, a console table, and a couple of chairs. Though it was still a bit sparse, it had a cozy feel to it.
“How’s the business going? Are you getting used to it?”
“Yes, the number of orders is steadily increasing, and I’m enjoying it more and more.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It seems like everything’s going well.”
Zhenya smiled as she picked up a piece of fabric Charlotte was working on and examined it closely.
“You were always a smart student. During the two years you worked at the boutique, you really honed your skills.”
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t taken me in…”
Zhenya remembered the desperate face that had knocked on her door two years ago, as if it was being chased by a monster. Before she could even ask what was wrong, Charlotte, pale as a ghost, had clung to her.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you? Please, take me with you.”
“What? What are you talking about all of a sudden…?”
“Please, I’m begging you. Please…”
Zhenya had been even more shocked because she knew Charlotte’s mother had passed away just the day before her wedding. And it was the day of the old lady’s funeral. The bride, who should have been dressed for mourning, had fled in nothing but her undergarments. Her bare feet, stepping on the cold, frosty ground, were a sight that left Zhenya at a loss for words.
What finally made Zhenya decide to act was Charlotte’s next words.
“If he catches me, I… I…”
I’ll die.
The impact of those words hit Zhenya like a blow to the back of the head. She couldn’t just leave Charlotte, who was clinging to her desperately, alone—not as a fellow human being, and certainly not as a fellow woman.
“…Alright. First, let’s get you changed. We’ll make you look like one of the seamstresses I brought with me.”
Thankfully, Zhenya had everyone wear hats pulled low and had left one person behind to count heads just before they left. That was how she managed to sneak Charlotte out of there.
From that moment on, ‘Charlotte Hegel’ became ‘Cecile Dune.’ She continued to use an alias and learned to sew at the boutique, eventually becoming skilled enough to open her own little repair shop far away. Thanks to her natural talent, word of mouth spread, and now, three months in, she was getting a steady stream of one or two orders a day.
“I should get going. It’s a relief to see you doing well.”
“Why don’t you stay a bit longer?”
“I just stopped by on my way through.”
Charlotte knew that there was nowhere else around here for Zhenya to visit. She followed Zhenya to the door and saw her off. Once her welcome guest had left, the small shop fell silent again.
Charlotte continued working for a while, then stretched and stood up as the sun began to set.
“Maybe I should call it a day.”
She yawned softly and tidied up the threads, needles, and fabrics scattered on her workbench. She drew the curtain inside the display window, put on her coat, and stepped out of the shop, locking the door behind her.
As she headed towards her boarding house a few blocks away, someone on a bicycle waved from the opposite side of the street.
“Cecile!”
“Derek.”
Derek Waden was the son of the boarding house owner. He had helped her move in on her first day, and they had become friends since. He wasn’t particularly handsome, with his tanned skin, black hair, and dark eyes, but he had a warm, friendly demeanor and a kind personality that made him well-liked.
“Heading in a bit early today, aren’t you? Need any help with that?”
Derek, who had quickly approached and dismounted his bicycle, glanced at the bag in Charlotte’s hand.
“Oh, it’s fine. It’s light. Thanks, though, Derek.”
“No problem. What are friends for?”
After their brief exchange, the two walked side by side. Around them, carriages and pedestrians bustled through the narrow streets lined with buildings of similar height.
“You got off work early at the general store today too, Derek?”
“Yeah, it’s the boss’s wedding anniversary. He wanted to close up early and head home, so he let me off early too.”
“…I see.”
The mention of a wedding anniversary caused a subtle shadow to pass over Charlotte’s face, which quickly returned to normal. Derek, noticing the change, was about to say something when they arrived at the boarding house. Charlotte entered first and spotted the landlady.
“Oh, you’re here, Mrs. Waden.”
“Well, look at this. You two came back together?”
Sarah Waden, the landlady, was a formidable woman who had raised her son alone after her husband’s early passing. She eyed the two of them suspiciously, and Derek, closing the door behind him, quickly offered an explanation.
“Mom, we just ran into each other on the way.”
“Really? I thought maybe you waited for her…”
“Mom!”
Ignoring the playful bickering between the mother and son, Charlotte took off her coat.
“I’ll head up now.”
“What about dinner?”
“I’m fine tonight, thank you.”
The boarding house had three floors. The second floor housed two rooms, the third floor had an attic room, and the landlady and her son lived on the first floor. Tenants could have breakfast and dinner in the communal kitchen on the first floor for a small additional fee. Charlotte had found this wonderful place thanks to a timely visit to the general store where Derek worked.
Those were precarious and uncertain days. Derek was the first person to extend a hand to her. When a complete stranger asked if something was wrong, Charlotte, almost in a trance, had shared her situation, mixing in a few lies.
After hearing her story, Derek had brought her to this house.
“Think of it as your home and feel at ease.”
“Derek…”
“When I first saw you, you looked so tired and worn out. I couldn’t just ignore it.”
Looking back, Charlotte could only think how incredibly lucky she had been.
In her room, she took off her coat, washed up quickly, and changed into her chemise. Opening the window, she saw the crescent moon hanging in the darkening sky. It was the same moon that had shone that night.
That night.
“Ugh…!”
A sudden wave of pain hit Charlotte, making her clutch her chest. Memories she didn’t want to recall, memories she shouldn’t recall. They were too vivid to be nightmares and too unbelievable to be real.
🍉🍉🍉
