I liked to think that in the earlier years my rudimentary knowledge of social interaction had become the bridge that made it possible for me to connect with Stephanie. I could somewhat tell that there were times when Stephanie’s words were open to interpretation. It was just the matter that I was, unless necessary, not one to look too deep into things and took most everything I hear at face value.

You could say my way of interaction was much like a socially awkward child. Though I want to go further into something, I fear that I may cross some unspoken boundaries and to save myself from embarrassment, or be chided, chose to make my message short and direct as possible, with a little rambling here and there. But I am sure that Stephanie somehow found my direct (if sometimes scattered) way of conversing a comfort. Why else would she be so quick to trust this strange girl living in the graveyard in an underground bunker?

I, on the other hand, took an instant liking to her. Looking back on it, it does seem like a reaction of an outcast to the company of another human being. I, though I may not consciously know it at the time, was hungry for interaction with someone that would treat me like an equal and immediately latched onto the very first person that responded to me in kind. Stephanie was not local and had no knowledge of my infamy after all. But I know that was not the case. Not entirely anyway.

There was something about her that intrigued me, even more so as I got to know her. Here was a sociable character that was left to bury a child all alone. Why is that?

“You should have agreed on that China.” Stephanie says. I spare her a quick side glance. Her eyes were focused on the two brown bags she was juggling in her arms as she kept pace with me. When I didn’t answer her she nudges at my side, nearly jarring the two bags of vegetables and a remarkable amount of game meat Stephanie’s managed to get a really good deal out of the butchery.

The young butcher fancies her, I don’t see how it’s hard not to. I see the way the guys turn their head whenever we brush past them. Their leering eyes following after Stephanie’s back, like the big bad wolf stalking after its prey.  Stephanie seems oblivious to them, or maybe she makes it a point to ignore them. Either way, I am thankful. The last thing I wanted was to have her feeling paranoid of men, seeing as we sleep right next to the gloomiest man alive.

I send her a small frown the moment I regain total control of the bags I was carrying. Sure we could easily wash away the dirt if the produce did fall to the ground, but why exert the extra effort? Stephanie is unbothered by my disgruntlement and looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer to her query. I let out a quick forceful breath through my nose. “I feel like if I accept bad karma will be following me, looking for a good opportunity to strike me down.”

Stephanie scrunches her face, one side of her lip lifting up to form a sneer. “Taeyeon!” she says, her tone clipped. Her head shakes, not in amusement- I can tell by the way her brows scrunches up and the way she tries not to look (disappointed) at me.

“What? I won’t feel good taking from them anyway. That’s their source of income. China doesn’t come that cheap. She was practically offering it to us for free.” I reason with her. I have no idea what she got out of what I had said, but it looked like she took it the wrong way.

My suspicions proved to be correct judging by the way her expression quickly smoothened out to a surprised one. A light dusting of pink colours her cheeks as she hangs her head, staring intently at the ground we were traversing on. “Oh.. That’s- that’s very thoughtful of you.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I had something else in mind anyway.” I mutter dejectedly under my breath. My hope was for naught. There was not a single piece of cloth for sale this time around. With the summer sun beating down over the horizon it was easier to find thin or sleeveless shirts over the thick, long coat I have been hoping to stumble across.

Looking at Stephanie now, I wonder how she doesn’t feel the need to strip off the dauntingly heavy coat. Her face looked like she was going to have sunstroke any second now.

“Don’t you want to take that off?” I ask her. She regards me questioningly, her brows raised. “The coat. It’s pretty warm today and that thing looks stuffy. I can carry it for you if you like.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’m perfectly comfortable with this on.” She responds, smiling that beautiful, toothy smile.

We were both silent after that. Me, because I couldn’t think of anything to say after that. Her… She looked quite content with the comfortable silence between us, keeping pace with my footsteps as we continued the trek back home.

The master was not in the hour that we arrived. It was not unusual as death bends for no one. Not the master or any of the clergy men, living it easy in their covenant. When it beckons, we must do what we must.

Our underground home felt damp and empty. The small, flickering flame that was barely keeping up without the dry wood to fuel its insatiable hunger, casted a dim light around us.

I stopped at the end of the stairs, an uncomfortable feeling of cold tendrils pricks at my skin that had my heart lurch. I put the bags down, rubbing over my arms to fight off the chill seeping into my skin. Something did not feel right.

Stephanie easily brushes past me to begin putting away the food we brought back, unmindful of the unusual atmosphere that only I seem to feel. It takes me a few second longer, cautiously looking at every nook and corner for something I can’t even begin to explain. The feeling was unsettling, like this place I called home felt suddenly foreign to me.

It wasn’t until Stephanie’s beckoning that snapped the weird feeling out of me. The only trace of that unsettling moment was the raised hairs scattered over my arms.

It was just as I turned to ask her to repeat herself when I saw it. At the corner of my eyes, hidden in the darkness, was a pair of gleaming greenish yellow eyes shining against the darkness. I snapped my head to the place, quickly going through the empty space with what little I can see. The small hairs on my skin were standing higher than ever, my heart pounded harshly to prepare me for anything that was going to jump out at me any second.

“Taeyeon?” I jumped at the touch, swivelling at the balls of my feet and snapping my eyes to meet Stephanie’s. Stephanie reacts accordingly, taking a step back as she retracts her outstretched hand and places it over her chest. “Is- is everything.. alright?”

I breathe out, making a quick sweep of the place. I am still on high alert from the rush coursing through my veins but the unnerving feeling has once again subsided. “Yeah. Sorry, I.. I just thought I...” Saw glowing green eyes at the dark corner of the room. I shake my head off the mental image, picking the bags off the floor. It was probably nothing, and there was no need to scare her. “never mind. It was nothing.”

Her curious eyes stay on me, unconvinced by my words. I slip past her heading to the kitchen to start dividing the meat, ignoring her stare boring holes through my head.

The red meat was enormous, even thicker than my waist. There was a marginally less marbling around the meat and from the size, I could bet that what we have is the thigh part of a mightily heavy boar. I mutter a prayer of thanks for Stephanie’s company and the hefty game before slicing through the red meat.

“Hey, Taeyeon?” I hum in response, raising the old, dulled cleaver as high as I can manage and bring it back down the middle of the meat. The cleaver sends shock waves running up my arm, my fingers tingling at the aftershocks.

“What is this book all about?”

“Book?” I glance over my shoulder. Stephanie sat at the edge of her bed, a familiar small black book in her hand. She doesn’t open it, merely stares at the cover curiously.

“Where..” I shift my gaze from her expectant face to the head of the bed where I had stuffed the book the day I decided to wash the coat- before Stephanie had used it. I shook my head. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.” I said, meaning the book. “You wouldn’t like what it’s about. Wouldn’t recommend it for reading, it’s not at all nice. Not like Pinocchio or The Ice Queen..” Unlike the fairy tales of a lying, mean wooden boy and an ice queen and a devil. “On second thought, those aren’t very good comparisons either.”

“I’ve heard of Pinocchio!” She claps her hands once, her eyes looking far off at a fond memory.” My grandmother told me the story when I was young… I can’t clearly remember the story, just the puppet boy.”

“Ah.. I’d gladly lend you a book, but I’m afraid the last time I’ve read a proper story was back before the grave master took me in. That” I say, nodding my head at the black book in her hands. “is the only book I have in my possession. If you’re bored enough, you can give that a quick look through. It’s not the nicest book, but it beats boredom.”

She curiously thumbs through the pages, not reading any of the paragraphs. “How many times have you read through this?”

“Enough times to make me want to burn the damn thing, I can repeat everything by memory now.” I chuckle a little. Every paragraph was ingrained in my memory. I’m sort of regretting not buying that old book I saw at one of the caravans. I guess I was too focused on looking for a coat to really look through the place. There might have been more interesting books around.

At least the grave master would be plenty pleased with the meat. One of us should be insanely happy.

I raise the cleaver again, bringing it down to completely sever through the dense bone. It makes a satisfying cracking sound. The tip of the cleaver even manages to dig a little into the thick wooden board.

I hear her make a noncommittal hum, hear the soft flicking of paper as she leafed through a few pages before eventually closing the book. I took a quick glance back at her in between chopping. She was distractedly the weathered spine, looking intensely at the back cover. She looked like she was contemplating something.

“Can you read it to me?”

“What?” I pull the hand that was holding the meat steady, the cleaver just barely nicking the tips of my fingers as it wedges itself down the middle of the meat slab. That was too close for comfort.

I felt something brushes up behind me. Before I could say anything, much less do anything, something had caught my hand and lifted it up.

“Are you alright?” Stephanie’s worried voice filtered into my ears as she began inspecting my hand in the dim light. I could barely see her facial features with the fire at the back casting her face into the shadows, but I was acutely aware of the warmth from her breathing brushing up against my hand. At the same time, the same warm feeling from before swirled around my stomach, twisting and pulling uncomfortably at my insides.

“I’m alright,” I tell her, pulling my hand free from her grasp. “I was just.. caught by surprise with your request. Uh.. read to you?” I say uncertainly. I did hear correctly? What an unusual request.

“I’m sorry. I.. Forget it. I’ll just… sit quietly over there.” She says, her voice sounding dejected and she turned, making her way back to her bed. I know she wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I felt bad for failing to comply with her simple request.

“No. No. I was just surprised. Hey, how about you read out loud while I cook. My reading voice in my head is starting to get old. I think it’s nigh time I replace my boring voice with someone else’s.”

She was silent for a while before her voice called, hesitantly. “The grave keepers guide?”

“Like I said,” I said, returning to chopping the game meat. “It’s not the finest book to have around, but it is the only one I’ve got.”

Stephanie shrugged. She flips over a page and clears .

“Introduction.” She begins. I look over my shoulder the same time she looks up from the book, a cheeky grin in place.

It was well after chapter 2 did I step away from the small kitchen counter. The meat has been cut up and cured with salt and put away for another day. A pot of wild boar casserole was beginning to bubble over the iron stove and wouldn’t be done for another hour or so. Dragging my feet to my bed I lay comfortably on the mattress.

“Hey. Don’t fall asleep with the fire going.” Stephanie berated, hitting the sole of my feet with the book with a loud slap. I groan and roll over.

“Just a couple of minutes. A quick shut eye.”

“We’re going to burn to our deaths.” Stephanie responds drily.

I let out a short chuckle. “Enough of that book. You’re sounding so… downing. So unlike yourself.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to find other ways to be entertained.”

“Watch the fire, make sure it doesn’t run.” I laugh at my own joke.

My laughter doesn’t last long, dying with the warmth of a body pressing against my back. My body stiffens at the contact and I try to squirm away. Stephanie halts my movements with her arms circling over my stomach, pinning me between her warm body and the cold wall.

“Stephanie?” I manage to squeeze out from the sudden tightness around my throat. “What are you doing?”

“Entertaining myself. I didn’t think you’d be so squishy, especially around this part.” She gives my stomach a few, soft taps. It feels as if she gave me a full on blow to the stomach with the way my insides were twisting and flopping.

“So, Taeyeon, what do you think about taking me as an apprentice?”

“A what?” I turn my neck to get a better look at her, hoping she was joking.

“You know.. an apprentice. Like you train me at your craft.”

“I know what an apprentice is.” I say defensively, but my voice comes out soft, almost petulant sounding. It’s the confusion happening in my insides, making it hard for me to articulate my thoughts loudly.

“I don’t doubt that. But after reading that book, I feel like I understand you a little better. And I want to help.”

“You’ve just read up to chapter 2.” I point out. I feel her shoulder rise in a quick shrug.

“So? You can teach me. That way you don’t have to be alone doing it.”

“It’s a very daunting job. Even I don’t like doing it.” I tell her honestly. “You could help the pastors though. I think you’ll do brilliantly consoling the families. You’re very gifted when it comes to communicating with others.”

She gives me a little nudge. “Oh, stop you. You’re making me blush.”

I grin. “I’m only stating facts. You’re a brilliant and wonderful girl.”

Her grip around my middle tightens, and my grin falls away. The turbulence in my stomach has become worse as my heart pounds crazily against my chest. I can feel something cold lightly brush against the back of my neck and it causes heat to rise up to my face. Words fail me and the only thing I could do was let the wild feeling inside me wreak havoc while enjoying being in held in such an intimate way. It was… nice.

“Don’t you think I’d make a pretty good apprentice?” she asks after a long period of silence.

“Hm.. The priests would love you.”

“I mean.. with helping you.”

“Me?” She’s really not letting this go. “It’s really hot out there… and it’s a lot of work.”

“I’m not some weak little thing, Taeyeon. I can handle the sun. And with me helping, it’s not going to feel like a lot of work!” She says cheerily. Her cheerfulness is contagious that it has me smiling despite wanting to move the conversation elsewhere without giving her an exact answer. Such an innocent girl. It’s unfair that the world would put someone like her at a time like this and with her circumstances, as her conversation with the gypsy seems to point out.

“Tell me about your family.” The moment the words slip out of my mouth I felt as if someone had splashed frigid water over me. My body stiffens, the same time as Stephanie’s did. The twisting in my stomach intensified that it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable being this close to Stephanie. It was a feeling in what I’ve come to identify as guilt. Why did I say that?

“I mean… nevermind.” I expected the hands around my waist to retract, the body behind me to turn and get up, leaving my back to the cold air.

Stephanie doesn’t stand. She doesn’t shift away or even moves a fraction of an inch. Her arm stayed locked around my stomach, motionless but there.

“Steph-“ she cuts me off.

Her voice was low, a mere whisper. But at our close proximity, it did not hinder my hearing and I caught every word. “We travelled, in a huge caravan, my whole family from over four generations. We didn’t go to school like normal children as we never stayed in one place for too long, but we were never behind. The elders taught us everything we needed to know like, math, English, and then some more. Some crafts, cooking, foraging, and even some foreign language… and reading people. I liked that the most. My auntie would take me somewhere crowded, chose a person and try to figure out things like what their work is or how they would react to a certain situation based on how they interacted with the people around them. We’re all educated, just that we were cut off from civilization for long periods of time as we moved from town to town that some of us have difficulty.. approaching people. It’s a necessity for us, to be able to get a conversation flowing. It’s how we pull people in and sell our merchandise. Know how to string words together, read people, and it doesn’t even matter whether the object is a piece of paper, we can turn it into something else entirely.”

“All was well. But then..” her voice tappers off and she lets out a long suffering sigh. “These men… They cut us off, surrounded us like cornered mice. We couldn’t get away. My father.. he got my siblings and me into one of the carts to hide, along with all the other kids. There was a lot of screaming from outside. The other children were screaming and crying all around, and I was sure I was one of those screaming, pleading for the thieves to just go away.”

I felt her arms tighten around my midsection, her face burying into the back of my neck and something wet. She takes a shaky inhale. “They weren’t after the merchandise.” I wrap my hands around her clenched ones, feeling the guilt gnawing at me. I didn’t know she went through all that.

“You don’t need to tell me anymore.” I say, gently patting her hands for comfort.

If I had felt bad for asking it was not comparable to what I felt now. What happened to her was horrible. I could only imagine how she felt like at the time, trapped and with no knowledge of how her family was faring as they tried to fend off their attackers with the children tucked away, helpless and blind to what was happening.

I let my thumb rub circular motions against the back of her hand. It was something I remember seeing the nuns running the orphanage do to calm someone down. Crying children were picked up and were soothed with low cooings of gibberish English and soft patting at their bum or smooth rubbings on their back to get them to sleep. The few older children or other staffs were pulled to the side and were talked to properly, but the touching was still there.

“He wasn’t my brother.” Stephanie says after a long period of silence.

I look over my shoulder, wondering if she had fallen asleep and was sleep talking. What was she going on about?

“Brother?” I repeated, confused.

She took another shaky inhale. “The baby. He isn’t… wasn’t my… brother. That’s what you thought, wasn’t it? I know you’ve been wondering for a while. I see you looking at his little hat whenever I bring it out. I’m grateful you never pried, but I feel as if I owe you an explanation.”

I shake my head. “Stephanie, please. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. You took me in. You took care of me when I had no one else. And even after everything I’m still here thanks to you.”

“I did it because I wanted to. I’m not looking for any compensation aside from knowing that you’re alright. That you don’t feel like you’re trapped with me for some obligation that you don’t have.” I try to sit up, but her arms tighten around me.

“I just.. he was the only one I could save.”

“Stephanie.”

“I ran. I took the chance. We were going to die if I didn’t.” There was an urgency to her voice. It seemed as if she was relieving her past, seeing herself back at that day. I held my tongue. I was curious. Despite the growing guilt tearing at my heart at the way Stephanie’s voice took on a hint of despair, I wanted to know what happened. How she got here. And if the baby wasn’t her brother, then who is he to her to have that great of an effect on her?

“They were having a party. Sold a few.. few more of my cousins.” I was sure I gasped at that. I’ve heard of tales of slave traders kidnapping people, children, and selling them off to farms or people of wealth in far away places. It was to scare the children and make sure none of them wandered. To actually meet someone who came from one of those, and in a small town like this, was unimaginable.

“Only four remained of my family. Both my siblings were already gone. It was just little Johnny, Stella, Jason and myself. I was responsible for Johnny because Jason didn’t want anything to do with him and Stella was hopeless with babies. They were loud. I couldn’t sleep… and so hungry. I could still remember the smell of roasting meat and the way my stomach ached to have something, anything in it.”

“I don’t remember standing, but next thing I knew I was already at the door, pushing it open. I didn’t think it would give way like that. They forgot to lock the door. I thought it was a dream. I couldn’t possibly be that lucky. That someone would be careless enough not to lock the barn door that held us. That it just happened that no one was guarding the entrance as they normally did. That everyone’s attention was at the party going on a couple of meters away, eating and laughing away. When I turned to look at my cousins.. they looked as dumbstruck as I probably did.”

“Jason was the first to make a break for it. He pushed the door so hard that it caught everyone’s attention. I ran back to pull Johnny from the stack he laid on and ran past Stella and headed for the woods. I could hear them shouting, chasing after Jason. I heard Stella scream. But I ran. I didn’t dare look back. I kept running, long after the noise of angry men faded away. Even as I reached a trail I kept running. I was afraid of what would happen to me and Johnny if they caught up. I didn’t dare think if they caught up to Jason or not. I didn’t even know if Stella even made it out of that infernal barn. And when I finally stopped running, the guilt caught up to me. I was the eldest out of the four of us, and I left them behind.”

“Johnny was my only saving grace. I had gone back for him. I took him away from all of that. I had to keep him safe, no matter what. But then I realized that Johnny wasn’t crying like he used to. He was silent, breathing, but silent. So I.. I followed the road, and it brought me here. I didn’t.. I thought, he was.. I didn’t know he was sick. I thought.. he was just tired, crying all those time.. Then, a day later..” Her choked sobs stopped her rambling. I feel my heart break at every hitch of her breath. Her grip around me had loosened, so I took the chance to turn around. I had my hand go up to the back of her head, pulling her closer, and gently her hair. This poor girl.

I understood now, why she held onto that piece of clothing and the way her eyes would turn dull as she stared off into nothing. Guilt. She couldn’t let it go. Not without knowing that her cousins had managed to escape from their captor's place. Then I remembered the day with David and Mortimer, how she clung onto me.

“It’s not your fault. None of it was.” I mutter against the top of her head. My words don’t convince her. I could feel her try to shake her head, but with my chin against her forehead and my hand at the back of her head, there was only so much movement she could do.

“Hey, look at me.” I lift my chin off her and gently tilted her face. I couldn’t see her face properly, what with the low fire casting most of her face into the darkness, but I knew I had her attention. “You didn’t put your cousins in danger. You didn’t lead those men to your family. You found a way out. You gave them a chance to get away and took Johnny away from that place. You had no fault in any of that. So don’t you ever feel like you didn’t do enough. You did more than anyone else would have in your shoes.”

I let my thumb caress her cheek, drying the cold trail left by her tears. I knew my words wouldn’t have much effect on her thoughts, but if it can somehow ease the guilt she felt, even for just a short time, that was fine.