"Young miss! Young miss!" The old man's urgent voice pierced through Leila's haze, shaking her awake. She slowly opened her eyes, groggily taking in her surroundings.
The old man's weathered face came into focus, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern. He held a rusty rake in one hand, his grip tight as he stared at her with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
Leila sat up, rubbing her neck, which throbbed with a dull ache. Her mind felt foggy as if shrouded in a thick mist. She tried to recall how she ended up in this place but her memories seemed hazy and indistinct.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The old man's gaze never wavered, his eyes seeming to bore into her very soul.
Looking around, Leila's eyes widened as she took in her surroundings. She was in the graveyard, surrounded by weathered tombstones and overgrown grass. A chill ran down her spine as the realization sunk in. She had actually slept in the graveyard the entire night!
Memories began to flood back, fragmented and disjointed. She recalled the masked man, his sinister presence and the feeling of being knocked unconscious. A wave of anger and indignation washed over her. Those men had left her lying here, carelessly discarded like a piece of trash.
"Ah!" Pounding the ground with her fist she screamed. If she ever caught that stinky man, she was going to shred him into pieces! Thank goodness it didn't rain otherwise it would have been a disaster.
"Are you okay, young lady?" The man asked in concern. He came here every morning to clean up the graveyard and did not expect to have such a strange encounter.
"I'm alright sir." Getting up, she offered the man a polite smile. In the man's eyes, she looked like a mad woman with leaves stuck in her disheveled hair and her clothes filthy. "I will get going now. Farewell!"
He stood there, frozen in silence, as he watched her vanish into the morning mist. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "This has been the strangest morning I have had in years."
...
"Mrs. Smith, I'm back!" Leila called out, closing the door behind her. She tried to sound cheerful, but her voice was laced with a hint of exhaustion.
Mrs. Smith's worried face appeared in the doorway, her eyes scanning Leila's disheveled appearance. "Where have you been, Miss Leila? I was so worried... I thought something terrible had happened to you!"
Leila forced a reassuring smile, trying to downplay her wild night.
"Oh, I slept at Margaret's home last night. They insisted that I stay over." She lied with a straight face, hoping Mrs. Smith wouldn't notice the faint scratches on her cheeks or the leaves tangled in her hair.
If she were to tell the old lady the truth that she had spent the entire night in a graveyard, knocked unconscious by a mysterious masked man, Mrs. Smith would likely faint from shock
" But your clothes..."
"I fell down on my way back," she scratched her head awkwardly, grinning.
"How could you be so clumsy," Mrs Smith mumbled. "Where you hurt anywhere?"
"No, not a single scratch."
"It seems like you had a lively night," Jack said, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he emerged from behind Mrs. Smith. Leila's forced smile faltered, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she recognized the unwelcome guest.
Jack's laughter was low and teasing. "Look at you," he chuckled. "You look like a crazy woman."
His gaze roamed over her disheveled appearance, taking in the leaves tangled in her hair and the dirt smudges on her face.
Mrs. Smith intervened, her voice respectful but firm. "Miss Leila, you have a guest. He has been waiting for you for some time." She gestured to Jack, who bowed slightly in response.
"I have come as I promised," Jack said, his eyes locked on Leila's. "Have you made your decision?"
"You should really take a bath first, then we will talk," he continued.
After a refreshing bathe, Leila sat across from Jack, cradling a warm cup of tea in her hands. Mrs. Smith had thoughtfully prepared a tray with an assortment of cookies and a steaming teapot, which she had quietly set on the table between them.
"Thank you, they taste delicious," Jack said, flashing a charming smile at Mrs. Smith as he picked up a cookie.
With a gentle bow, Mrs. Smith excused herself, leaving Leila and Jack to their conversation. As she passed by Leila's chair, she leaned in close and whispered, "Miss Leila, who is this?"
Leila whispered back, her voice barely audible, "I will explain everything to you later." She hadn't yet confided in Mrs. Smith about the strange events that had transpired at the graveyard after her mother's funeral.
Mrs. Smith cast one last glance at Jack before departing, a feeling of confusion washing over her at his striking resemblance to the late mistress. Could it be...?
"I see you haven't told her yet," Jack said, crossing his legs and taking a leisurely sip of his tea. Leila remained silent, lost in thought.
"So, are you coming with me?" he asked, his tone casual.
After the man's unexpected offer to look after her at her mother's funeral, she pondered it for a moment. She barely knew this man, who had appeared out of nowhere claiming to be her mother's older sibling. It could all be a lie, a deceit meant to exploit her vulnerability, and the thought gnawed at her since she felt like just a poor nobody.
In this small town, she had nothing left but the disdain and resentment of those around her. Although Mrs. Smith and Margaret had always stood by her side, she felt compelled to let them go. With her departure, Mrs. Smith would no longer need to linger in this desolate house, free to reunite with her family and find happiness once more.
This house, this town... it felt like a nightmare, a suffocating prison she longed to escape. Leila craved a fresh start, a chance to feel truly alive again. She was exhausted... Exhausted by the memories that haunted her, by the stares of judgment, and by the weight of despair that clung to her like a second skin.
Even though she understood the high likelihood that she was walking into a trap, the desire to leave this wretched town overshadowed her fears.
As she drummed her fingers rhythmically on the table, a soft smile began to spread across her small face. "So where are we headed?"
Jack's eyes lit up with surprise and delight; he hadn't expected her to agree so readily. "Marshvale. I promise you're going to love it there."
Marshvale, known for its opulence and sophistication, was home to the elite. It was a place where nobles reigned, where the sight of poverty was nearly extinct. The mere thought of escaping to such a vibrant community filled her with hope. Most importantly, the masked man had mentioned in his conversation with his servant that they were heading back to Marshvale. Leila's smile broadened.
"Why are you smiling like that? It's a bit creepy," Jack remarked, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.
"I have a friend who lives there," Leila replied, her smile taking on an unsettling edge. "He would be delighted to see me."
With each passing moment, her smile grew more enigmatic, and Jack couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. In that instant, a flash of something fierce and almost murderous flickered in her eyes as she mentioned this 'friend.'
"So when will we be leaving?" Leila set her empty tea cup aside.
"Pack your things! We will be leaving today!"
Leila did not have many things so it was easy to pack. Mrs Smith helped her. "Are you sure about this, young miss?"
"Don't worry about me. I will be totally fine," she assured her. She had explained to Mrs Smith about her encounter with Jack and her decision to leave with him.
Mrs Smith was wary about this man who seemed to be always wearing a fake smile and wanted to persuade her to not go but stopped when she saw the light in her eyes. She hadn't seen Leila so alive for a very long time.
Maybe this was for the best.
If only she knew, all that was in Leila's mind was plotting revenge against that mysterious masked man. She could already imagining torturing him to submission, groveling at her feet begging for forgiveness.
Leila erupted into a fit of maniacal giggles. For the first time in years, she felt a rush of exhilaration. This newfound energy surged within her, filling the void that had haunted her for so long.
Mrs. Smith, standing nearby, felt a shiver run down her spine at the unsettling sound of Leila's laughter. It was a joyous giggle but something darker, something that hinted at a fractured psyche.
Leila had become a stranger to her, a girl who transformed day by day into someone more unpredictable and erratic. Mrs. Smith could only hope that this impulsive decision to leave with a man she barely knew would somehow restore the vibrant, mischievous child she had once adored.
As the tension in the room thickened, Leila reached into her pocket and pulled out a neatly folded envelope. "Could you please pass this letter to Margaret?"
It was a farewell letter.
"You aren't going to say goodbye to her in person?" Mrs. Smith asked softly, her voice tinged with concern as she accepted the envelope.
Leila shook her head, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. Jack was in a hurry to leave. Time was of the essence, and she couldn't afford to delay. Deep down, she knew that Margaret would be devastated by her sudden departure, and the thought of her best friend feeling abandoned filled her with guilt. Would there be resentment in Margaret's heart for the choices Leila was making?
When the older woman's attention was diverted, Leila seized the opportunity to discreetly slip a mysterious metallic object into her bag. The equipment glinted briefly in the light as it was swiftly tucked away, its purpose and identity remaining unclear.
The movement was so quick and subtle that it was easy to miss, and the older woman seemed oblivious to the fact that something had been added to Leila's belongings.
With a sigh, Mrs Smith helped Leila carry her bags to the elegant carriage waiting outside, which she hadn't noticed when she came back earlier.
As they reached the carriage, tears welled up in Mrs Smith's eyes, glistening like the soft morning dew.
"Please, don't go…" she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion.
"Go home, Mrs Smith. I will be fine," Leila reassured her, wrapping her arms around the older woman in a warm embrace. It was a gesture filled with affection and gratitude, a silent acknowledgment of all the love and care Mrs Smith had bestowed upon her over the years.
With a final squeeze, Leila stepped back, determination etched on her face as she climbed into the carriage.
"You won't regret this, trust me." Jack gave her a reassuring smile.
It didn't matter anyway. The young girl had already made a decision. She was ready to face whatever stored for her in the future. Goodbye Brokley and welcome a new beginning.