The life of living in Blaise's toy shop was a peaceful and lovely one. By sleeping on an actual bed, your back was less stiff every morning and your sleep schedule shifted into a normal one, where you could get a full night's sleep everyday. No more chores lined up for you, so now you had all the free time you could ever ask for. The concept was unfamiliar, leaving you to wonder what to do to fill all this time up. You also opted to help Blaise with his customers, despite his protests for putting weight on your healing feet. Why? Because you owed him tons and working for him was the least you could do. Not to mention, speaking to some of these customers had been enjoyable too.

A week had passed by from the day you escaped your home. Currently, you were out and about in the shop. Bending down to meet eye to eye with a girl in long, brown pigtails, you smiled at her, your expression soft. She was holding a doll tightly to her chest, her face twisted up in excitement already for getting a new toy. It was adorable to see. "Would you like her to be wrapped up in pink ribbons?" you asked her kindly. "It will keep her safe on your journey home."

"Oh! Yes please," she exclaimed, nodding up and down. Gingerly handing the doll to you, she followed you to the packaging station. Meanwhile, her mother was at the other counter, where she was paying Blaise the coins for the toy. Having been taught by your male friend on how to package these toys, you slowly put the doll into the closest sized box and stuffed tissues beside it. Wrapping it up as a present, you tied a knot at the front, the rosy, pink color glimmering prettily.

You handed the box back to the girl and she thanked you, her small teeth showing in happiness. Your heart melted at the sight of it as you waved her goodbye. Hand in hand, she and her mother got out of the store. Letting out a breath, you went over to where Blaise stood, who looked just as content as you. "How are your feet doing?" he asked immediately, his green eyes flickering down to the floor.

"They're fine. Thank you, but you don't have to worry so much. I promise I'll take a break if they're ever hurting too much," you assured him. You looked out of the window and stared at the people walking past the store. Remembering the first time you stumbled upon this place to look inside those very same windows, your heart lurched at the thought of it. The toys had seem so magical back then -- they still do now, but it was different. You had gone such a long ways since then. It was quite mind blowing to you. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

He leaned closer to you and twirled his gloved fingers around a strand of your hair. "Of course I do. You looked as pretty as you do now."

Frowning in embarrassment, you pushed him away and rolled your eyes. "Stop teasing me."

His brows rose in disbelief, but before he could respond, the jingle of the bell brought both of your attentions to the front. Another group of customers had arrived, this time consisting of two ladies and a young boy of around eight years. The women gossiped of news while the boy immediately beelined to the train tracks, crouching down to watch them with awe. You and Blaise got out from the corner to greet them, but the ladies were talking nonstop.

"It's a shame, isn't it? What were they even doing to catch it?"

"Well, I heard they ended up taking jobs near unsanitary sites, because they weren't as rich as we had thought."

"All three of them?"

"Cholera is easily spread. Maybe one had caught it and since they're family..."

"Her two poor daughters. They didn't even get the chance to marry."

"Didn't they go to the ball to look for suitors?"

Your ears perked up at the sound of this and an unsettling feeling grew within you. This could be about anyone, but the sound of it hit way too close to home. It was best to ask and confirm it wasn't about them to comfortably go on with your day. "Hello," you interjected, causing the two women to stop midway and turn to look at you. They were not pleased with this interruption at all, their lips pursing into fine lines. "I apologize, but whom are you talking about?"

"You haven't heard of the news yet?" the first woman asked. You mutely shook your head at her. "We're talking about the widowed Ms. Buche and her two daughters, Rosa and Delphine. The entire family passed away from illness recently."

The world paused. You couldn't process their words for a moment, with your heart pounding at the side of your head. They were unfamiliar and cold, gurgling into your ears as if you were submerged underwater. You were floating for a moment, limbs numb until it couldn't be felt. Then you were no longer floating. You were crumbling to the ground, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Illness. Passed away. Death. Ms. Buche. Delphine. Rosa.

They echoed continuously in your mind and when those words finally made sense, the tears fell. Confused and terrified, the gossiping women backed away from the scene, rushing out of the shop with the little boy. It was now just you and Blaise.

Oh god. Rosa... your sister. You loved her. She had a future to look forward to, a stable boy she loved. She didn't deserve this. You didn't expect to ever see her again, but she wasn't supposed to die! A wail escaped your lips as your heart broke into more pieces. You were supposed to be there for her. You should've been there to at least say goodbye... but instead, you were here waltzing away selfishly.

Warm arms engulfed you, so you looked up blurrily to see that Blaise was comforting you. "What's wrong?" he asked you softly, his voice etched in uncertainty.

"Rosa..." you could only croak out in between sobs. Planting your face onto his shoulder, you let it all out. Shit. You knew everything was going too well. You should've known it would come crashing down all over again. It always did. Life always found a way to fuck you up some more. You should've fucking known.

Too weak to protest when the young man pulled you up, you were guided back to your new bedroom in the back. Laying down on the bed, you scrunched up in a tight ball. He didn't leave the room though. "What's Rosa to you?" he inquired you, looking slightly frustrated.

"M-My stepsister," you said, hiccupping pityingly. "She helped me in the end. S-She didn't deserve to die. Why did she have to die? Tell me Blaise, why?" Salty streams of tears slipped down your cheeks as you pulled your hair in bitterness.

He stayed silent and helped wipe your tears away. His expression unreadable once more, he turned away from the room and closed the door behind him. Alone with your hopeless thoughts, you laid there and could not stop crying.

On the other side of the door, the blond-brown haired man stood there as still as a statue, his fists clenching tightly in fury. He wasn't sure who he was angry with -- himself, you, or the world. Had killing them been worth it? Or maybe it had been... so why did you have to hold dear to damn Rosa? He gritted his teeth at the thought of the smug girl who dared criticize him during her death bed. He despised that bitch. She had made things much more complicated. How was he going to persuade you to let go of her... to focus your attention solely on him?

Fuming to himself, he began his way towards his office. Once there, he sat down at his desk and took out parchment. He started to scribble down ideas to fix the problem. He had to convince you to fully rely on him, no matter what. There was another problem. He wasn't blind to the fact that you were friends with this other girl named Ira. The relationship you had with her weren't too close to the point he had to take any necessary action, but if things went too far, it was another sacrifice he was willing to make.

Light footsteps stepped into the office and a young blonde girl entered. Veria went up to him and inclined her head. "I got the latest measurements. Within two weeks, you would be able to execute the final plan," she informed him.

"Good," he responded dismissively without looking up. Dipping his pen in ink, he wrote on, his thoughts still somewhere else.

"You're regretting it now," she stated bluntly.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Regretting what?"

"Killing them."

He chuckled at her response and shook his head in denial. "I don't. They needed to burn in hell after everything they've put her through. She's in her grieving stage at this time, but it won't be too long until she moves on. She'll forget about them, simple as that."

"Are you done with the concerns regarding her yet?" she questioned. "We can't afford to delay the plan anymore."

"I am," he said, lying straight through his teeth. Done with you? Why, never. He was too addicted to you to ever let go at this point. It was better to just lie though. He could tell the girl was tired and jealous of you. Nor would he want another scolding from her.

Nodding obediently, she bowed one last time and disappeared from the room. As he was about to return his attention to his writing, he noticed the glass slipper that sat on the dark surface. Picking it up, he analyzed the shoe and wiped the insides of it to gather some of your reserved blood. Due to the glass, it was still freshly red and wet. Wiping it with his pointer finger, he stamped his fingerprint onto the pure white space. It signaled a promise. From him to you.