Chapter 4: Red Veils, Broken Chains

The city was in chaos, sirens wailing in the distance. I watched from the window, heart pounding.

The coaches hurriedly carried Autumn in a red car into the house.

They bundled her into the car, her face hidden behind a veil. I wanted to run after her, but I was too late.

“It’s an order, mistress, just wait.” Their mean faces wore schadenfreude, like masks peeled off to reveal bloody smiles.

They enjoyed her suffering, relished her pain. I hated them for it.

A red veil covered her face, everything hidden, a red thread on her pale wrist.

She looked like a ghost bride, lost and alone.

“Thank you for your trouble, I’m tired, please leave.”

Her voice was cold, detached. She wanted to be left alone.

Gold coins fell into the coach’s hands with a clatter.

They pocketed the money, their smiles fading. They left without another word.

Their fake smiles turned stiff.

The door closed behind them, sealing Autumn in.

The bridal suite door closed again.

The room was silent, the air heavy with anticipation.

“Is this your plan?” Autumn asked beside me.

She appeared at my side, her body translucent. I nodded, explaining my idea.

Her body was transparent, faint, like a mist in the air, just like I was before.

We were both ghosts, caught between worlds.

“Yes, it was Mariah’s idea,” I explained. “My mother was once expelled from the mayor’s house for witchcraft. Mariah knew sorcery; she used it to save the poisoned mayor, but it ended like this.”

I told her the story, hoping it would give her hope.

Autumn nodded. “Your idea is not bad.”

She smiled, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

I looked up at her eyes, a little wet. “Don’t worry, your eyes are swollen. You’ve helped me so long, it’s my turn to help you.”

I reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek. She smiled, grateful.

I never wanted Autumn to worry, her pretty brows furrowed, making me sad.

I wanted to see her smile again, to see the light return to her eyes.

She took off her wedding dress, changed into something practical.

She moved quickly, her hands steady. She was ready to fight for her freedom.

I kicked open the window, snuck out the side door.

We moved in silence, the night air cool against our skin. The world felt full of possibility.

I grew up in the Rosewood House—not good at singing and dancing, but climbing trees, catching fish, climbing walls—I was very good at. Another kind of talent.

I led the way, my childhood skills finally coming in handy.

The house was big, but after wandering, I found some exits, not original, as if someone had pried them open, dark soil and marks beside them.

We slipped through the shadows, careful not to be seen. The night was our ally.

I quickly escaped, found Mariah’s place.

Her cottage was small, tucked away at the edge of town. I knocked on the door, heart pounding.

*Knock knock*—the brass knocker sounded abrupt at night.

The sound echoed in the quiet, a summons and a warning.

“Who is it, disturbing my peace?” Mariah’s voice came from the small cottage. “Still not letting people sleep at night.”

She opened the door, her eyes sharp and suspicious. I took a deep breath, bracing myself.

She opened the door, saw me, and turned away.

She tried to shut me out, but I wedged my foot in the door, refusing to be turned away.

I hurriedly propped the door, chasing after her. “Mom, wait.”

My voice was desperate, pleading. I needed her help.

“What, the last spell wasn’t enough? Now you want more?” Her tone was cold.

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed. For a moment, I saw a flicker of the woman she used to be. I shook my head, trying to explain.

“I… just wanted to see you. Spells harm the body. I’m worried about you.” I explained.

I reached for her hand, but she pulled away, her expression softening just a little.

“I’m fine.” She was still cold. “If you care about that girl from another world, go question Hailey, maybe you’ll get something from her.”

Her words were cryptic, but I knew better than to argue.

Hailey?

The name caught me off guard. I wondered what she meant.

I was about to ask, but she left quickly, not wanting to stay a moment.

She disappeared into the night, leaving me alone with my questions.

I was helpless, just then heard struggling from the west wing.

A muffled cry reached my ears. I hurried toward the sound, heart pounding.

I pushed the door, the room was pitch black.

I fumbled for the light, my hands shaking. The air was thick with fear.

Hailey was tied to a chair, sobbing.

Her face was streaked with tears, her hands bound behind her back. I rushed to her side, untying her as quickly as I could.

Seeing me, she looked like she’d seen a savior, sitting up, her face sorrowful.

She clung to me, her body shaking with sobs. I held her close, whispering words of comfort.

I removed the handkerchief from her mouth. “Hailey, when you worked for Caleb, did you think this day wouldn’t come?”

My voice was sharp, but I needed answers.

“You!” Her voice lowered in anger, then she pleaded, “I had no choice, my husband works for Caleb. This was just a small favor, besides, Caleb is powerful, I had to help.”

Her words tumbled out, desperate and afraid. I sighed, understanding but still angry.

I sighed. “What did Caleb promise you to betray me and steal the house’s token?”

I wanted to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

“Hailey, we lived together for ten years. You shouldn’t have done this to me.”

My voice broke on the last word. Betrayal cuts deeper when it comes from someone you love.

Hailey sobbed quietly.

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. I waited, giving her time.

I remembered the rainy season ten years ago, the madam punishing an apprentice who messed up a dance.

The memory was vivid—Hailey, small and scared, her back bleeding from the switch. I’d snuck her food, bandaged her wounds.

Hailey was beaten hard, blood seeping through her thin clothes. She lay on the stone bench, crying.

I sat beside her, holding her hand. We were sisters, in every way that mattered.

I gave her two cornbread muffins I’d snuck from the kitchen. “Don’t cry, you know the madam treats everyone like this. I was beaten last time for stealing food, couldn’t get out of bed for three days.”

She smiled through her tears, grateful for the small kindness.

“Autumn, I wish, I wish I could be like your mother. If I could marry well, I’d never suffer again.” Her voice fell.

Her words were full of longing, of dreams she knew would never come true.

“Come on, what’s good about that? My mother wanted a lifelong love, but was just one flower among many for the mayor. If I lived like her, how hard would it be.” I comforted her.

I tried to make her see the truth, but she was too young to understand.

She chewed the cornbread, silent.

We sat in silence, the rain drumming on the roof. I wondered. What would the future hold for us?

Now I think, maybe there were signs. Hailey was ambitious, how could she be content as an unknown dancer?

Looking back, I see the signs I missed. Ambition is a double-edged sword.

Whatever the reason, she drifted far from the warm sister of my childhood.

People change, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. I missed the girl she used to be.

After all, even the same tree’s flowers bloom in different directions.

We all grow up, we all move on. Some friendships don’t survive the journey.

The hardest to fathom is the human heart.

Love, hate, envy—they’re all tangled together, impossible to separate.

I looked at Hailey, the warm sister from my memory.

She looked up at me, her eyes full of regret. I wanted to forgive her, but it was hard.

Hailey lowered her head, tears in her eyes.

She wiped her cheeks, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry,” she said with guilt.

After hesitating, Hailey confessed: “That token, you had one, Caleb had one. Caleb told me to steal yours, but I couldn’t bear it, so I made a copy and gave it to him. The real one is still here.”

She reached into her pocket, pulling out the token. I took it, my hands shaking.

I untied her, she sat up, took the token from her sachet.

She pressed it into my hand, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“Here’s the token,” she breathed. “I didn’t want to do this. But I still betrayed you, the letter in the candy box was from me. But I meant no harm, I just thought maybe you’d find a good place.”

Her words were sincere, but the damage was done. I nodded, accepting her apology, but knowing things would never be the same.

I nodded, taking the token.

The metal was cold in my hand, a reminder of all we’d lost.

Whether there was malice no longer mattered. It couldn’t make up for Autumn’s suffering.

Forgiveness is a gift, but trust, once broken, is hard to repair.

But, childhood friendship was easily discarded.

I mourned the loss, but I knew it was time to move on.

I opened the door.

The night air rushed in, cool and refreshing. I took a deep breath, bracing myself.

“From now on, we have nothing to do with each other. Go where you want, do what you want, never come back to the house.”

My voice was firm, final. Hailey nodded, tears streaming down her face. She left without another word.

The touch in my hand was both hot and cold, as if I couldn’t bear it. The token rolled in my palm.

I clutched it tight, a lifeline in a world gone mad.

As if I had a premonition, I ran toward the house.

My feet barely touched the ground, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to get to Autumn—before it was too late.

As if a little later, I’d miss her forever.

The fear drove me forward, faster than I’d ever run before.

I had only one thought: I must protect Autumn, stay with her, not let anything happen.

I’d failed her once. I wouldn’t fail her again.

But even as fast as I ran, I was too late.

The world blurred, my vision swimming with tears. I burst into the room, but it was already over.

I watched as Autumn lay dying on the wedding bed. I burst into tears.

Her body was still, her face pale. I fell to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Mariah was beside me, impatient: “This spell has limits. Good thing you came back in time, or this girl would be half dead.”

She moved quickly, her hands steady. I watched in awe as she worked her magic.

She grabbed Autumn’s hand, felt her pulse: “Good, still savable. Her soul’s out of her body—give it an hour and it would’ve dissipated.”

Her words gave me hope. I clung to them, desperate for a miracle.

Mariah quickly traced a symbol in the air, drew a charm.

The room filled with the scent of herbs and smoke. I held my breath, praying it would work.

“Give me your hand,” she called.

I offered my hand, unflinching. I’d do anything to save Autumn.

A sharp knife cut my hand, blood like red glass beads rolled out.

The pain was sharp, but I barely felt it. My focus was on Autumn.

She caught it in a glass bowl, stirring the ashes and blood with a straw stick.

The mixture bubbled and hissed, filling the room with a strange energy. My nose stung with the smell of iron and smoke.

“She possessed your body when she came. There’s a connection, so using your blood to shape her is best.” Mariah explained.

Her words made sense, even if I didn’t understand the details.

“Alright, have her drink this charm brew; she’ll wake soon. I’m tired—handle your own affairs from now on, don’t bother me again.”

She handed me the bowl, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. I nodded, grateful.

“Yes,” I replied, as long as Autumn was safe. “Thank you, mom.”

She waved me off, disappearing into the night.

Mariah waved her hand, leaving briskly.

The door closed behind her, leaving me alone with Autumn.

A housekeeper came to deliver tea, but I stopped her.

I blocked the door, my voice firm. “Not now.”

“Has the lady rested well? Even if the sheriff isn’t here, you should mind your health.” The housekeeper smiled, but her words were sharp.

I forced a smile, hiding my anger. “Thank you, I’ll take care of her.” I closed the door behind her and exhaled, my hands shaking.

“Of course.” I smiled. “My twin sister is coming to stay, please prepare a room.”

The housekeeper raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “I’ll see to it.”

“Is that so? I’ll do it.” The housekeeper closed the door and left.

I breathed a sigh of relief, turning back to Autumn.

Looking at Autumn’s confused sleep, I sighed.

Her lashes fluttered, her breath shallow. I stroked her hair, whispering words of comfort.

Her long curled lashes trembled, finally opening.

She blinked, her eyes slowly focusing. I smiled, tears streaming down my face.

“Autumn…” she murmured. “I didn’t drag you down, did I?”

Her voice was full of guilt. I shook my head, reassuring her.

“No.” I comforted her. “Caleb’s house isn’t safe, we need to plan. Now we have the token, and Caleb is away on business, it’s the best time.”

She nodded, determination returning to her eyes.

She nodded, taking my hand.

Our fingers intertwined, and for a moment, I felt hope. Maybe this time, things really would get better.

It was spring outside, but still cold to the bone.

The world was waking up, but the chill lingered. I pulled the blanket tighter around us, hoping for warmth.

With the token, the world was open to us.

We could go anywhere, do anything. The possibilities were endless.

Autumn’s child, Aiden—Caleb’s son—was still so young. We left him in the house for safety, with the house girls visiting often.

It broke her heart to leave him behind, but we had no choice. The world was too dangerous for a child.

Autumn and I wandered outside, living rough for a long time.

We slept under the stars, cooked over campfires, made do with what we had. It wasn’t easy, but we were free.