What will be?

"McKenna," Anthony called, moving swiftly towards the grim reaper.

McKenna, with his longer stride, moved so fast that it was hard for Anthony to keep up. In his human form, Anthony was far weaker than in his normal state. How had McKenna managed to survive as a human all these years? "Perhaps you should hearken to what the young miss said," Anthony suggested.

McKenna stopped in his tracks, turned, and glared at Anthony. "Stop following," he commanded.

"I can't," Anthony replied with a sigh, shaking his head as he caught up to McKenna. "Maxwell has instructed me to watch over you."

Maxwell was the ultimate authority in the afterlife, the judge who passed judgment on every soul that journeyed through.

In the afterlife, there are eight elders under the authority. McKenna was not an elder, but his rank was high, close to theirs. It was even rumored that Maxwell would appoint him as an elder before this unfortunate incident occurred.

"There is nothing you can do," McKenna dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He began walking ahead, passing through graveyards and lush greenery until he reached a mansion on the outskirts of the city, with only a few houses and cottages around.

"I can assist," Anthony said, quickening his pace to catch up with McKenna, who completely ignored him. "I can locate your scythe and that soul." It had been a hundred years, yet there was still no sign of his scythe.

McKenna scoffed but kept walking. How amusing that Anthony believed he could find the scythe when he had tried and failed before.

"Your powers are gone, McKenna. You won't be able to locate it. Let me assist you," Anthony persisted.

"Power?" This caused McKenna to stop abruptly, his eyes widening. In all his years spent here, he had never felt anything until now, when he saw the shadows surrounding that girl.

"I felt my powers around her," McKenna murmured, and Anthony overheard. Realization dawned on him as he recalled seeing the shadows around her. "Do you think there might be a connection between the soul and that girl? Have you ever discovered her origins and the generations that followed?"

McKenna cursed inwardly. He had never delved into her background or origins. Perhaps there was a link between the girl and the soul. Standing in front of his marble mansion, he pondered, "I felt my powers for the first time after hundred years."

"Tomorrow, McKenna," Anthony grinned, joining him. "You won't allow that old peer to marry her, will you?"

—

"You are a disgrace," Mr. Hathaway fumed with anger, crashing a water vase onto the floor.

Marybeth had just arrived home, though it was late at night. She was greeted by her mother, her father, and Mr. John. The peer sat on a massive settee that seemed to swallow him, his expression grim.

Marybeth remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor where a few broken marbles from the vase lay scattered. What was she to do now? Even though rumors would circulate about her tomorrow, Mr. John would still marry her.

"Have you lost your mind?" Mrs. Hathaway interjected, her arms crossed over her chest. "Have you been engaging in promiscuous behavior?"

Marybeth said nothing, biting her tongue to hold back the tears. She refused to show any weakness in front of Mr. John.

"She has lost her mind!" Mr. Hathaway roared. "How do you plan to get out of this, Marybeth? You will be the subject of gossip throughout town tomorrow."

Marybeth slowly raised her head to meet the stern gazes of her parents. She couldn't help but notice the amused look in Mr. John's eyes, but she paid him no mind. "He will still come to marry me," she said quietly.

Mr. John stood up from the settee, causing the ground to tremble slightly under his weight. At least, that's how Marybeth perceived it. "That young man has no wealth, woman," he dismissed. "Do not fret, Mr. Hathaway. I will marry her nonetheless."

Marybeth blinked, shooting thousands of furious glares his way. This man...

"Oh, Mr. John," Mrs. Hathaway's pallid face now flushed with color. "You are so kind."

Mr. Hathaway, still fuming with anger, exclaimed, "I expected better from you."

"I cannot marry him," Marybeth stated, looking at her parents. "He is too old for me."

"He will rescue our family from poverty. Have you no shame, Mary?" her mother cried, turning to Mr. John. She pleaded, "She is still just a young girl. Please forgive her."

"Of course," Mr. John responded. "Her outspokenness will soon cease."

"If the town discovers that I am engaged to the man from the club, and if he chooses to marry me," Mary said daringly, ignoring their puzzled expressions, "You will have no option but to accept it, Mama."

"Has she lost her mind?" Mr. Hathaway bellowed. "You will marry Mr. John, and that's final. Only he can rescue the family business." With that, he walked away.

"You are not showing gratitude, Mary. This is not what I expected from you," her mother shook her head, following her husband.

"Mary, Mary," Mr. John began to approach her.

Mary took a step back, feeling hatred towards him and her family for putting her in this position. "I should go freshen up. Excuse me," she rushed out of the sitting room, ignoring his boisterous laughter.

As she made her way across the hall towards her room, she encountered Mrs. Jenny holding a candle. "Mary?" the maid inquired with concern, but Mary did not pause for chat. She simply kissed the elderly lady on her forehead, saying, "Good night, Mrs. Jenny." It was only when she entered her room that she sank to the floor and wept.

"How do they expect me to marry that elderly man?" she sniffed.

"Who would claim to love his child but then send her off to be a man's mistress, one who would undoubtedly mistreat me," she pondered aloud.

Standing up from the floor, she made her way to her bed. There, she noticed a small candle and an incense that she was sure had been placed there by Mrs. Jenny. It imparted a gentle lavender aroma to the room, yet it did little to ease her pain.

Mary dropped to her knees, reaching under the bed to search for something. It didn't take long before she pulled out an object.

On the day of Aunt Em's burial at the graveyard, she had come across this item and brought it home. The object like a blade was sharp and curved at one end, captivating her. As she gazed at it, her mind drifted to thoughts of tomorrow and what the future might hold for her.