As the months passed, the atmosphere in the house grew different, lighter somehow, as if everyone were waiting for something bright to arrive.
And then one morning, it finally did.
When the baby was born, the house filled with joy.
Not quiet joy.
Not gentle joy.
Bright joy. Loud joy. Overflowing joy.
Servants hurried through the halls carrying warm water and clean cloths. Sliding doors opened and closed again and again. Laughter echoed through rooms that had once been silent. Someone hung protective charms near the doorway, and someone else burned incense that curled softly toward the ceiling. A few of the maids even wiped tears from their eyes as they smiled.
No one called for Reina.
She sat alone at the far end of the corridor with her doll resting in her lap, listening to the happy sounds drift through the house like music meant for someone else. She told herself she did not mind. Babies needed attention. That was normal.
When the nurse finally carried the newborn into the hallway, everyone gathered around her.
"Oh, how beautiful she is," one servant whispered.
"Such perfect skin," said another.
"Look at her eyes!"
"She will grow into a stunning young lady."
Gentle hands reached out to admire the baby. Voices softened as if they were afraid even their happiness might wake her. Smiles bloomed across every face.
Reina slowly stood.
She only wanted to see.
Just for a moment.
She stepped forward.
One step.
The nearest servant noticed her immediately. The woman's smile faded.
"...You shouldn't come too close," she said quietly.
Reina stopped at once.
She stepped back.
The compliments continued, floating through the air like warm sunlight.
But none of them were meant for her.
Reina's eyes drifted to her father. His face glowed with pride. His eyes shone as he gazed down at the tiny baby in the nurse's arms. He looked as if he were holding sunlight itself. Reina had never seen him look at her that way after the absence of her mother. Something tightened inside her chest. Not painfully just strangely.
"...She's very pretty," Reina whispered.
No one heard her.
A couple of days passed, the house grew quiet again. The baby was asleep, and the servants moved carefully so they would not wake her.
Reina sat in the hallway, playing with her doll. She spoke to it softly, the way she remembered her mother used to speak to her.
"You should sleep now," she murmured. "Sleeping makes you strong."
From inside the room, a cry suddenly broke the silence.
Thin. Fragile.
Reina lifted her head.
The baby was crying.
She looked around the hallway. No one was nearby.
Slowly, she stood.
Carefully, she walked to the door and slid it open just a little. She peeked inside.
The baby lay in her cradle, her tiny face scrunched up as she cried. Her little fists trembled in the air.
Reina hesitated. Then she stepped into the room.
"It's okay," she whispered gently.
She approached the cradle slowly so she wouldn't frighten the baby. She remembered how her mother used to comfort her: soft voice, gentle steps, calm hands. Reina leaned over the cradle.
"It's okay," she whispered again. "Don't cry."
The baby's cries softened slightly.
Reina's face brightened.
The door slid open.
Her stepmother stood in the doorway.
The room instantly felt cold. The woman's gaze moved slowly from the baby... to Reina standing beside the cradle. Silence filled the room. The baby whimpered again. The woman's expression hardened.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
Reina quickly bowed.
"I was helping."
"Helping?" Step mother said sharply and thin. "You expect me to believe that?"
Reina blinked in confusion.
"I just wanted..."
"You were jealous," the woman snapped.
The word struck Reina like a thrown stone.
"You couldn't stand that she is loved," the woman continued, her voice rising, "so you tried to hurt her."
Reina's eyes widened in shock.
"No! I would never..."
"Liar."
The woman turned sharply toward the hallway.
"Bring the stick." Step mother commanded.
A servant froze in place.
"...Madam-"
"Now!" Step mother shouted.
The servant hurried away and quickly returned with a wooden rod, placing it into the woman's waiting hand.
Reina's breath caught in her throat.
The first strike landed across her back. Pain exploded through her body. She gasped, her knees buckling beneath her. The second strike hit her calves.
She cried out softly.
The third struck her shoulders.
The fourth cracked across her legs.
The blows came faster. Harder.
"Ugly child!" the woman shouted. "Ugly face, ugly heart!"
Reina bowed between strikes, trembling violently.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't do it!"
Another blow fell.
"No one wants a wicked child in this house!"
"I didn't-!"
Another strike.
Reina curled forward, her arms shielding her head.
Still bowing.
Still apologizing.
No one stopped it.
Finally, the blows ended.
Reina remained bowed on the floor, shaking.
"Take her away," the woman said coldly.
By the time her father returned that evening, the marks had already darkened. Thin red welts ran across Reina's calves like cruel ribbons.
She stood near the entrance of the house.
Waiting.
Like she used to.
The motorcar arrived.
Her father stepped out. His eyes fell on her. They paused for a moment.
Just one second.
He saw the marks. Reina's lips parted.
She almost spoke.
Almost.
But his expression did not change.
He simply looked away. Then he walked past her. The words died in her throat. Reina lowered her head and bowed silently. Because now she understood.
He would not ask.
So she would not tell.
That night, Reina stood alone before the water basin. Her body ached. Her skin burned. Her chest felt hollow.
She looked down into the still water.
The reflection stared back.
Then it warped.
Her eyes sagged unevenly. Her skin drooped like melting wax. Her mouth twisted crookedly. Reina did not blink. The reflection did not change.
Her fingers trembled.
"...Oh."
Her voice was barely more than breath.
"So it's true."
The water remained perfectly still.
The image did not fade. Reina slowly bowed her head.
"I understand."
Behind her, the candle flickered once.
Outside, the wind passed softly over the buried earth. And deep beneath the ground the doll pulsed faintly.
As if it were pleased.