Chapter 15

"No return is innocent; every return is a dialogue between what was and what can no longer be."

— Gabriel Rolón

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Chapter 15: Return - Part 3

Year 1836

Pov. Third person.

The carriage stopped with a slight creak of wood and taut leather.

The silence that followed was almost offensive, as if the forest around them refused to speak.

Eva got out slowly, her black cloak still covered in dust from the road. She turned to the coachman and nodded with almost automatic courtesy.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said in a low voice, handing him the agreed-upon coins.

The young man, no more than twenty years old, looked at her with visible discomfort. On either side of the road, the trees seemed to lean toward the mansion, as if trying to avoid looking directly at her.

"Are you... are you sure you want to stay here?" He finally asked, his gaze shifting nervously from the forest entrance to the building in the distance.

Eva didn't respond immediately.

She just looked back up the hill, where the remains of what had once been Frankenstein Mansion stood like a forgotten corpse.

"Yes," she finally said, emotionless. "I'm sure."

The young man hesitated. He wanted to say something more, but the firmness in Eva's eyes made him think better of it. He took one last look at the path, whipped the reins, and the carriage pulled away, leaving behind the muffled crunch of wheels on the mud.

Eva watched in silence until it was lost among the trees.

Then she turned on her heel.

And walked.

The path was overgrown with weeds, and the rusty gate was barely standing.

The fence that had once protected the garden was crooked, eaten away by rust and ivy.

There were no flowers left, no manicured paths, only parched earth and debris covered by the fog that was beginning to rise between the walls.

The mansion... it wasn't the one he remembered.

It was the shell of a memory, the empty echo of a place that had once been home.

She stopped in the middle of the courtyard, the cold wind rustling her cloak. Her eyes scanned the broken windows, the blackened walls, the front door ajar as if no one had touched it in years.

"Time... hasn't been kind to this place," she murmured, barely audible.

But it wasn't just time.

She knew it.

She felt it.

There was a wound in the walls. A silence deeper than abandonment. As if the space itself knew its inhabitants were no longer there... or weren't the same.

And yet, she had returned.

To the hell where she had been born.

To the place where it all began.

And also...

Looking at the decay, her gaze naturally wandered.

To one side, beyond the overgrown path, the small family cemetery remained untouched.

The gravestones, some crooked and worn by the years, peeped out of the mist like old bones.

...where she had lost everything again.

Eva stopped.

Her eyes fixed on that sacred corner.

For a few seconds, her expression oscillated between sadness, nostalgia… and something harder to name.

She didn't cry. She didn't break down.

She just closed her eyes.

And exhaled, slowly. Deeply.

"…Later," she murmured.

Then, she continued on her way.

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She walked to the mansion's main entrance.

The stone steps creaked beneath her feet as she moved toward the main entrance.

The door was there, as it always had been.

Tall. Imposing. Familiar.

But it wasn't the same.

Time had swollen it, stained it. The varnish had been gone for years, and moisture had left dark scars on its surface.

Eva stopped in front of her.

She reached out.

Her fingers brushed the iron knob—cold, rough, rusty—but she didn't turn it.

She stood still.

Her gaze fixed on the wood, her heart beating with an erratic rhythm.

As if her body knew something her mind didn't yet want to admit.

What would she find on the other side?

Silence? Ghosts? Lies that still hurt?

A few seconds passed.

Then she inhaled deeply.

And turned the handle.

The door opened with a slow, almost mournful creak, echoing with the dust of the past.

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Five Years Ago

Frankenstein Mansion, Switzerland – 1831

Eva opened the door abruptly, almost tearing it off its hinges.

She took slow, unsteady steps. Her face was swollen, especially her right eye, which was bruised.

Damn you, Lea, she thought as she struggled to move. Do you want to train me… or kill me?

She couldn't finish the sentence. She tripped over her own feet and fell to the floor.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then sighed deeply, as if her body needed to negotiate with the morning before allowing her to move. She tried to sit up…

…and immediately regretted it.

A creaking sound ran through her back, her legs, her arms. It hurt. Everything hurt.

It had been two weeks since the legendary beating Lea gave her.

The heavy training had been put on hold until her injuries healed, but now that she was almost recovered, the return had shattered her again.

"Tch..." she growled softly, rubbing her neck and sitting up slowly, as if she had lead instead of bones. "Lea's going to pay me for this... one day..."

She looked around.

She was in the kitchen, lying on the cold cobblestones.

Outside, the sky hadn't completely cleared; the light came in pale, timid. And yet, the kitchen already smelled of herbs, bread, and tea.

Eva blinked. Something was missing.

"Where is... the torturer, I mean, Lea?" she murmured as she stretched her legs with difficulty. By now, she should have dragged her back to training, ignoring her pleas.

Now that she thought about it, Lea had been absent lately. She hardly ever saw her outside of training, and she didn't know where she spent the rest of her days.

"Emma?"

The young homunculus was there, sitting on a stool near the oven. Her expression was serene, but at the question, a subtle shadow passed over her face.

Her smile remained... but something in her eyes flickered.

"Lea is... busy," she replied sweetly, though her voice sounded a little forced. "She's doing something important."

Eva watched her, narrowing her eyes with a hint of distrust. But before she could say anything, Emma quickly looked away and added, more cheerfully:

"Do you want me to make you something? I'm sure you're hungry after all that... training."

As if the universe were responding, Eva's stomach rumbled loudly. She pursed her lips, visibly embarrassed.

"...A little," she murmured, looking away.

Emma let out a soft laugh, the kind that caresses rather than mocks. She stood calmly, smoothing her dress.

"Okay, then, cake," she announced cheerfully. "I have all the ingredients today."

But just as she reached for the utensil, she stopped.

A sudden spasm ran through her body. She leaned forward, bringing a hand to her mouth as a dry, hacking cough escaped her throat.

Eva instantly sat up, alarmed.

"Emma?"

The homunculus raised a hand gently, asking her not to worry. As she straightened, her smile returned to her face… albeit paler.

"I'm fine, just… I choked on my own saliva. It happens sometimes," she joked.

Eva didn't respond immediately.

She studied her more closely. That pallor in her skin. Those poorly concealed dark circles. That slower movement. Those details she would never have missed before.

And yet, she said nothing.

Emma continued cooking with her usual calm, but now Eva was looking at her differently.

She spilled sugar when she served it. She left the butter near the edge. She forgot to stir the soup even though she had the spoon in her hand.

Small mistakes. Almost invisible.

Mistakes Emma never made.

A dull pang pressed against her chest.

Emma had said she was fine… but her body told a different story. A more fragile one.

When she served the cake in front of Eva, the warm scent of honey, cinnamon, and nuts wafted between them.

It looked delicious.

But Eva didn't touch it.

She just placed her hands on her knees, not moving a finger. She was looking at Emma.

Fixed.

The homunculus held her gaze for a few seconds… until she lowered her eyes, uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, with forced sweetness. A tense note betrayed the friendly tone.

Eva didn't respond.

She looked at her hands: they were trembling. Very slightly, but they were trembling.

Then she saw those warm eyes again, now flickering like candles about to go out.

"Emma..." she finally said, not accusing, just concerned. "Are you not feeling well?"

The question floated like icy mist.

Emma blinked. Her smile faltered... and then returned, fragile.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired. The weather, maybe."

Eva didn't believe her.

But she didn't insist.

She just lowered her gaze to the cake. It looked delicious, as always.

And yet, something inside her told her it tasted different.

A taste of effort.

Of farewell.

She chewed silently. One, two, three bites. Then she carefully pushed the plate away.

"...I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm not hungry."

Emma turned her face slightly.

"Huh?"

Eva was already standing. The chair creaked as she pushed it.

"Thanks for making it. I just... need to be alone for a while."

And without waiting for a reply, she left the kitchen.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hallway.

Emma didn't move.

She just looked at the half-eaten cake, the empty chair... and then lowered her head.

Outside, the wind blew.

And for the first time in a long time, the air in the kitchen felt colder.

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Eva walked through the mansion's hallways with slow, measured steps.

The floor creaked softly beneath her feet, and the air, though clean, seemed to hold something... thick.

A thick silence, as if the walls held secrets no one dared to speak aloud.

Her eyes scanned every corner, every crack, every mark she knew well. Everything was in its place. But something... wasn't.

Something was wrong.

"Emma... and Lea..." she thought, stopping in front of a dusty window.

She remembered Emma's cough. The awkward pauses, the mistakes in the kitchen she'd never made before. The barely perceptible blush on her cheeks, the way she avoided speaking clearly.

And Lea...

That sudden absence.

That vague excuse.

Eva frowned, clenching her fists without realizing it.

Are they... sick?

Both of them?

It didn't make sense. If something was wrong, they would have told her. They always did.

Always.

And yet...

"Why don't they tell me?" she whispered into the void, her voice echoing dully off the old walls.

She found no answer. Only the distant rumble of her heart, beating with an uncomfortable rhythm, as if it wanted to warn her of something her mind hadn't yet accepted.

She shook her head, pushing the thought away.

She didn't want to think about that.

She needed to distract herself. Find something. A book, maybe. Or go out to the greenhouse. Or clean, like Lea used to do, clumsily mimicking the movements.

But none of those thoughts turned into action.

Her steps wandered aimlessly, room after room, unable to calm the restlessness that burned silently in her chest.

That dull suspicion, that constant pang.

Because even though there was no clear proof… something deep inside her knew.

And that knowledge hurt more than she was willing to admit.

Then, at some point, she reached the mansion's foyer.

Her eyes fixed on the front door.

Maybe… a walk would help clear her mind.

Without hesitation, she approached.

She reached for the handle…

…and opened the door.

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Present moment.

Pov. Eva.

The echo of the door still resonated faintly in the air when I took the first step inside.

The inside… was no better than the outside.

The wood of the foyer had lost its luster.

The carpets were covered in dust, the torn curtains hung like shreds of memory.

That ancient smell hung in the air: a mixture of dampness, rusted metal, and dead memories.

Everything seemed smaller. Grayer. More…empty.

But I didn't stop.

My eyes scanned the cracked ceiling, the faded walls, the cobwebbed chandeliers.

This place had given me pain.

It had given me love, confusion, anger, and purpose.

And yet…

"I'm home," I whispered.

I smiled, barely. A fragile, sincere grimace.

Not out of nostalgia, but out of resolve.

And then I moved forward.

Through dust and shadows. Toward memories.

And toward the pains he had finally decided to unearth.

End of Chapter 15

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Again, I'm sorry for the short chapter and the delays. I hope you like it. As always, reviews and comments are welcome. Bye bye.