“Rest well at home. If you show any sign of fever, take the blood-cleansing medicine from my workshop.” Perl gently patted Troy on the back. “Don’t panic. Though the plague is still uncertain, I promise nothing will happen to you.”
Troy, who had stepped down from the carriage, walked to the entrance of the residence under Perl’s watchful gaze. Only after she closed the door and lit the lamp inside did Perl signal the coachman to depart.
So what should she do now?
Leaning against the door, Troy watched the carriage disappear into the night with her peripheral vision. Perl was taking action to resolve the city’s hidden danger, but her own mind was a complete blank.
Suddenly, a sound rang out in the room.
No, it wasn’t the irritating squeak of a rat. The one that had bitten her had long since run off to who knows where, like some joke played by fate.
Troy finally made out the sound. It was the cry of a beast caught in a trap, wailing as it heard the hunter’s footsteps drawing closer.
The hanging lamp on the hall ceiling began to blur, splitting into two, then three. Her vision twisted from the tears welling up.
Why am I so afraid?
A cold, hollow voice crawled into her mind and answered: “Because you’re going to die.”
Yeah, I’m going to die.
The wailing continued.
Troy tried to stifle the sound in her throat, but it was no use.
She crouched slightly, bracing her hands on her knees. Her fingers ached from the grip, and she could see a few fingernails slightly peeling upward, blood seeping through.
How long had it been since she last cried? Her parents’ memory in her mind had grown hazy, but Troy knew she had never cried in front of them, and for that, she had endured even more beatings. There were many times she had been closer to death than now, times when she could feel her limbs growing cold, her heart slowing like a rusted machine, the world unfolding as if from a third-person perspective.
But she hadn’t cried then either.
The last time she cried was on Perl’s operating table, after Perl had pulled her back from death’s door.
She was seven that year. Those tears flowed just like now, unstoppable.
My life began from that moment. That was what she thought then.
But it had only just begun, and now it was ending. That was what she thought now.
If only she could, she wished she had died before ever meeting Perl, so she wouldn’t feel this much regret now. From the moment Perl took her in, she experienced for the first time what it felt like to be needed. That was a good thing, maybe the best thing in her life.
Living in this world meant existing to be needed by someone.
If only she could live just a little longer.
Suddenly, the wailing stopped. She thought to herself, did it pass?
Just then, a low, muffled cry seeped out of her, a trembling, despairing voice: “Is this me? God, is this sound coming from me?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Another heart-wrenching cry, and another. She burst into loud sobs.
Thud.
Something fell from the inner pocket of Troy’s coat onto the floor. The dull sound halted her crying, and she picked it up to examine it.
It was a gift Perl had given her earlier, a finely crafted yet worn doll, stitched together with plain, simple threads. The only exception was its shoes, forged from clear, crystalline gems.
It was a puppet modeled after the protagonist of the fairy-tale play, Cinderella. At the time, Perl said it was her favorite toy as a child, and giving it to Troy symbolized her life stepping into midnight, ushering in a change as magical as a spell.
“I promise you’ll be fine.”
Perl’s voice returned to her ears, still carrying that cold, aloof quality, yet it shattered the sorrowful, chilling voice that lingered in her mind into pieces.
“Calm down, Troy. Calm down.”
Troy pressed the doll to her chest, slowly inhaling, exhaling, then inhaling again. She could feel the blood vessels in her face, swollen from emotion, gradually returning to normal.
“What can I do?” Troy whispered.
“I need to help the doctor figure out what happened. This is what the doctor wants to do.”
Troy quickly reached a conclusion.
“I need to find Isabel and get Helmut’s body back.”