The Shadow Of Fortune

Evelyn's sobbing subsides as she feels a gentle, warm touch on her left shoulder. She turns to face Edmund, his concerned expression softening her defenses.

"What are you doing here? And why are you crying?" he asks, his voice laced with empathy.

Evelyn attempts to brush off her tears, stammering, "M-me? No, w-why would I cry? You must be mistaken."

Edmund's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing through her facade. "Don't lie to me, Evie. I saw you crying. Tell me why. Did someone harass you in the city? Or did your mother scold you?" His words are tinged with genuine concern, making Evelyn's resolve weaken.

Evelyn sighs, her defenses crumbling as she recounts the events that led to her distress. Edmund listens attentively, his expression softening with empathy. He knows how much Evelyn admired the writer, and his heart goes out to her.

As she shares her thoughts, he offers comforting words in a confident tone, "I understand it's really painful to lose someone you admired so much. But we all have to face mortality eventually."

Evelyn nods, her voice laced with resignation, "I know it's hard. What else can I do then?" Edmund's expression turns somber, his voice laced with frustration, "These brutal murders... I'm sick of hearing about them again and again. It's like the city is plagued by some dark force."

Evelyn's confusion is evident as she turns to Edmund, her eyes seeking clarification. "What do you mean by 'hearing again and again'?" she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

Edmund's expression turns cautious, as if he's unsure how much to reveal. "I thought you knew about the murders that happen every year, around this time... the ones where the victim's skin is ripped off?"

Evelyn's eyes widen as she recalls the notice board's Headlines. "The Skin Slaughter! I did read about it in the newspaper. But who is it? Some kind of serial killer?" she asks him.

Edmund turns to her, his eyes serious. "So you don't know. You're always buried in your books. Well, let me tell you, the Skin Slaughter is a serial killer who's been terrorizing our city for years, targeting men like Henry Mores. The first murder was discovered ten years ago in a sewage tunnel. It was a gruesome scene, and the people dubbed the perpetrator 'The Skin Slaughter'. Since then, the murders have continued, but the killer remains at unknown. No one has been able to catch them, and the city is still gripped by fear."

Evelyn's eyes widen in shock, her mind reeling from the revelation. "Ten years?! I had no idea...," she trails off, her thoughts racing. She turns to Edmund, her curiosity piqued. "Who was the first victim?" she asks her voice barely above a whisper.

Edmund furrows his brow, his eyes gazing upwards as he tries to recall. "I don't remember the name, but I think the victim was a wealthy jeweler. He was quite prominent in the city's social circle." He pauses, his eyes refocusing on Evelyn. "But what's certain is that the Skin Slaughter's murders has remained the same: ripping the skin off their victims' bodies."

"A jeweler? Why would someone kill him?" Evelyn asks her curiosity piqued. Edmund lets out a dry chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Why would I know? I was just a kid when it happened, only 9 years old. I don't remember much about it, except that it was a big shock to the city." He shrugs his smile fading. "But I do know that the Skin Slaughter's been striking every year since then, always around this time. It's like they're taunting the city, leaving their gruesome signature behind."

As they stroll back home, Evelyn suddenly realizes that her bag feels lighter. "Oh no, some of my books are missing!" she exclaims, panic creeping into her voice. Edmund's eyes narrow in concern. "Did you leave them at the store?" he asks his tone gentle. Evelyn's brow furrows as she tries to recall the events earlier.

Then, her eyes widen as she remembers the collision. "I think I know what happened," she says, her voice hesitant. "I bumped into someone on the way, and some of my books must have fallen out of my bag." Edmund's expression turns understanding. "We'll retrace your steps and see if we can find them," he offers, his voice reassuring.

Evelyn nods gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. With that, they both continue on their way home, the evening air filled with a sense of promised friendship.

The next day, they embark on a mission to find the missing books, scouring the city streets and searching high and low. Despite their best efforts, they come up empty-handed. As they sit on a bench in the park, Edmund apologizes, "Sorry I couldn't find any of your books."

Evelyn smiles graciously, her eyes shining with understanding. "It's okay; books can be elusive, whether they're hidden in a library or lost in the city. Thank you for your help, Edmund." Edmund nods, and then stands up, saying, "I should head back home now." Evelyn nods in understanding, watching as he walks away, feeling grateful for their friendship.

As Edmund departs, Evelyn's expression turns melancholic. She closes her eyes, her head leaning against the bench, and sighs heavily. "Why didn't I pick up all the books? Ugh... I paid for them," she mutters to herself, her frustration and exhaustion evident.

Just then, she senses a presence around her and feels a shadow cast over her. She opens her eyes to find a figure standing beside her, its presence both unexpected and intriguing.

Evelyn's eyes snap open, and she's startled to see a boy gazing at her. She gasps, quickly rises to her feet, and notices the luxurious brooch on his coat, indicating his high social status. With a respectful bow, she apologizes, "Sorry, sir. Please, take the bench. I'll leave immediately."

As she turns to depart, she hears him say, "Wait."

Evelyn's heart skips a beat, but she turns back to see him holding out her handkerchief. "You left this behind," he says with a smile. Evelyn's relief is palpable as she retrieves her napkin and tucks it into her pocket. "Thank you, sir. Sorry again for the disturbance," she says, and then hastens out of the park, her heart still racing from the unexpected encounter.

As Evelyn walks home, her mind ponders the mysterious boy. "Who was that? He looked incredibly wealthy... But I think I've seen him somewhere before," she thinks to herself, trying to place his face.

Her musings are interrupted when she arrives home to find her mother in a visibly frustrated state. Evelyn's concern is piqued, and she asks, "Mother, what's wrong?"

As soon as her mother lays eyes on her, she rushes over and envelops Evelyn in a tight embrace. "Oh my goodness, where were you? I was worried sick about you!" she exclaims, her voice laced with relief.

But as Evelyn hears these words, she can't shake off the feeling that her mother's concern is not entirely genuine. She senses an underlying motive, a feeling that her mother needs something from her. Evelyn's mind races to understand what could be driving her mother's behavior.

Her mother's hands cup her face, and she speaks in an uncharacteristically sweet tone, "My lovely daughter, you work so hard. Today is your lucky day. I just know you'll be overjoyed to hear the news I have for you."

Evelyn's instincts scream that her mother is trying to manipulate her. Every time her mother uses this sugary sweet voice, it means she wants something. And by the sound of it, this time it's something big. Evelyn's mind races with possibilities, her guard rising in anticipation of the news.

Her mother's hands gently stroke her hair, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You know, the lady of the house where I work? She's asked me to find a reliable gardener to work at her friend's estate. Their gardens have gone dry and there is no gardener to look after. The duchess is currently looking for a gardener to build a beautiful garden. And the best part? They're willing to pay top dollar, whatever the worker desires." Her mother's eyes gleam with excitement, her words dripping with hidden intentions. "Isn't that just wonderful news, dear?"

Evelyn reads between the lines, aware that her mother is hinting at her taking the gardener position. She knows that refusing would be futile, as her mother would likely coerce her into accepting the job anyway. So, with a resigned tone, she nods and says, "Fine, I'll go work there."

Her mother's face lights up with a triumphant smile, and she exclaims, "Wonderful! Get ready tomorrow, and we'll head to the mansion together." Evelyn's heart sinks, feeling trapped and powerless against her mother's manipulation.

On the chilly morning, Evelyn stands ready, dressed in her modest but clean attire, waiting for her mother's instructions. As her mother emerges, Evelyn straightens her posture and takes the bags from her, shouldering the weight with a sense of resignation. Her mother locks the door, and together they set off towards the city, their footsteps echoing in the quiet morning air.

As they walk, Stera instructs Evelyn on the etiquette of a servant. "Remember to not look at their face. Always bow and greet the family members with respect. Obey their commands without hesitation. And never speak to them directly or raise your voice. Be humble, quiet, and obedient."

Stera's words are laced with a hint of sternness, emphasizing the importance of conforming to the expectations of their wealthy employers. Evelyn listens intently, her heart sinking with each passing moment, as she realizes the extent of her mother's plans for her.

Evelyn remains silent, her eyes cast down, as she nods her head in acceptance. Her heart is heavy with sorrow, the thought of leaving her home and serving as a servant a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, amidst the despair, a small spark of joy flickers within her. She finds solace in the prospect of being able to read books during her free time, a tiny comfort that offers a glimmer of hope in an otherwise difficult situation.

As they turn onto the street, they're met with the sight of police officers addressing the crowd, their voices firm and authoritative. One officer approaches them, his eyes scrutinizing. "Excuse me, ladies, do you reside here?" Stera replies, "No, we work here."

The officer's expression turns grave. "Be advised, since you're here for work; avoid roaming or wandering, especially at night. It's perilous, particularly for young individuals like your daughter." He pauses, his tone emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "The police will be patrolling the city extensively for the next few months. Heed the warnings and obey the mayor's orders."

Stera and Evelyn listen intently to the officer's instructions, their eyes wide with concern. He elaborates on the necessary precautions, even providing tips on how to handle encounters with strangers. Both ladies nod in unison, acknowledging their understanding.

However, Evelyn's curiosity gets the better of her, and she asks, "But what's the reason behind all these measures and warnings?"

Stera shoots her a stern glance, as if urging her to remain silent.

The officer's expression turns grave, and he reveals, "We're on the hunt for the notorious Skin Slaughterer. Exercise extreme caution." With that, he turns and leaves, leaving the two women with a sense of trepidation.

Evelyn's eyes widen in disbelief, her mind reeling from the officer's revelation. But before she can process the information, Stera's grip on her wrist tightens, and she's forcibly dragged towards the mansion.

Stera's voice is laced with anger, "What made you to ask about the investigation?!" Evelyn knows better than to respond, her mother's ire evident. Stera's scolding continues, "You can't even conduct yourself appropriately in front of a police officer. How do you expect to behave in front of your new master?" The rebuke stings, and Evelyn remains silent, her heart heavy with trepidation.

After a tense and silent journey, they finally arrive at the grand mansion. Stera and Evelyn follow the servants' path, a winding route that leads them to the rear entrance. With a nod from the butler, they gain entry into the opulent interior.

As they enter the lavish parlour, they find themselves in the presence of the esteemed duchess of the manor and her companion, engaged in a refined tea party. The atmosphere is one of elegance and refinement, a stark contrast to the tense exchange between Stera and Evelyn just moments before.

As they enter, they bow and greet the ladies with reverence. Mrs. Linda Augustus, the friend of the duchess, recognizes Stera, her former maid, and her eyes light up with surprise. "Ah, Stera! You've brought a gardener for my friend, the duchess?" she asks, her tone warm and familiar.

Stera bows again, her voice humble. "Yes, My Lady. This is my daughter, Evelyn. She's here to serve the duchess, with your permission, of course." Evelyn's eyes are cast down, her heart racing with anticipation, as she awaits the response that will seal her fate.