Late night. Meia was sitting again in the carriage in which she had sat only half a day ago. The forest was dark, but the planted glass bowl on the ceiling gave the interior of the carriage a pleasant brightness. Over the long ride, Meia had partially regained her composure. In silence she sat facing the window. She could see nothing. The fine curtains hid the landscape behind a veil of white, but darkness lurked in the crevices by the window frames.

Meia was alone at the table. The butler was outside on the coach box. By this time he would surely have already called it a night. Meia forced him to work at this late hour.

After a while, the whiteness of the curtains changed. The gloom outside became fainter. The forest became lighter.

Meia heard the babbling of the stream, then the rattling of wheels began on the old wooden bridge.

A point of light shimmered past. It was the lantern from the gable of the first house.

Meia was foolish. Why had she even hoped for a different outcome? It had been clear to her from the beginning how it would end. His plans had changed? What were his actual plans?

Exhausted, Meia let her head hang, for the first time since the departure.

What had she done wrong? Could she have done anything right at all?

The horses did not care that she did not want to go on yet. The carriage drove. Outside it was getting even brighter.

The dense houses had passed. Gravel clattered against the wheels for a moment.

The road to the mine was also quickly behind them.

The centre of gravity slowly tilted. The last hill began.

At the top, the carriage came to a halt.

Meia heard a jump and footsteps on the ground.

Someone knocked on the door.

At her request, it opened.

The butler apologised for the long journey. He did not attempt any justifications.

The road out of the village was narrow and hardly maintained. At night it was difficult, especially for a carriage of this width. Once they had even stopped so that he could clear away a branch. If he had still justified himself, it would be a reproach; after all, her family was responsible for the maintenance.

The butler offered Meia his hand to help her get out. Meia accepted, because it was tradition after all.

Meia stood by the fence.

She was home.

Light still burned on the right side in the dining room, flickering dimly through the two panes of the front door. Without woods or clouds, the night was bright in the grass, yet the butler took the lantern from the carriage in his hand. Across the path he led it to the house. He held the lantern close to the sandy ground. Was it so she could see their footsteps?

Once he tried to start a conversation with her. It was just something about the dairy farm. Was he trying to comfort her?

Meia nodded it off. She did not need comforting. She was not sad. To be sad, one would have to be disappointed. If you had no expectations, you could not be disappointed.

Halfway there, the front door opened.

The housemaid stepped outside. She had probably already heard the carriage.

At the end of the veranda she stopped to wait. She put her arms on her hips as if getting ready to give her a telling off.

From Meia's memory, it was not a posture she had seen from her before. Her look was like that of a disappointed mother.

When they arrived at the veranda, the butler introduced himself to her. He did not explain much, then he was already on his way again to fetch the suitcases.

In the time they were unobserved, the housekeeper looked at her once and only once.

She did not say anything. She just shook her head in resignation.

The butler brought the suitcases, then said his farewells.

The housekeeper wished him a safe journey back.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Meia joined in with a single word.

While he was leaving, the housekeeper also left. She took the suitcases with her and left the door open. Meia did not follow her. She remained alone outside on the veranda. The butler closed the gate of the fence. He hung up his lantern again. The carriage drove off. He did not wave her. He was done with them. How often did he have to do something like this?

Meia watched the night for a while and only when the carriage was already at the bottom of the hill she went into the house.

Meia took a few steps across the hall towards the stairs when a voice was heard.

"Come here!" An angry voice ordered from the dining room.

It was the greeting Meia had expected. She would like to take the stairs up, but she did not have the choice.

The dining room was not too big, certainly not for a noble family. There was a long wooden table in the middle. Meia only went as far as here. The table had four chairs on each side and one at each end. Several candlesticks shrouded everything in dim light from it. On the walls of the long sides were many large glass display cases. They were meant to present the family's treasures to the guests at dinner. However, except for a few vases and a few alleged art objects, they were empty. Actually, the showcases themselves were the most valuable thing in the room. The reason Meia had stopped at the front door was sitting at the end of the table on the other side of the room.

"Why are you back already?"

"Father, I..."

Meia did not know why. Mr Monet did not want her. Would that be what he wanted to hear?

The candlelight flickered on the wooden floorboards.

Meia heard a chair move away.

The floor creaked loudly.

A shadow fell into her field of vision.

Firmly she gripped her dress with both hands. She knew what was coming.and a palm hit her face.

Meia was knocked over. As she fell, her body pushed a chair away. The table shifted as her shoulder hit it. A cup clinked. Meia fell to the floor.

She tried to get up again. Orienting herself, she leaned on her arms first. On the heels of her hands she felt small stones carried in by shoes. There was a sweet smell of dust. Warmth drew into her cheek.

When she leaned fully on her hands, she tasted metal again. Licking her lower lip, she also realised where the taste was coming from.

The slap had been hard.

Meanwhile, he was scolding her.

"Have you upset Mr Monet? Don't you know who the Monets are? Did you not listen to me? I explained to you exactly what you should do! I explained it to you dozens of times, and yet it seems like you still did not understand. Was it too complicated for you!"

He paused.

Meia used the time to get up, but she would not make it in time. He wanted an answer now.

"No-"

Just then Meia reached for the table to pull herself up by it, but he grabbed her under the arm and yanked her to her feet himself.

"Get up!" he yelled at her as he did so.

When she stood again, he pulled her closer to him.

"So now again, why are you here?"

Meia watched the candles flicker.

"I wanted to ma-"

"Will you look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"I wa- I was going to do what you said, but then I got sent away."

While Meia was still trying to explain herself, he let go of her arm, but only to have his hand again. His fingers twitched as if he could not control himself. As if he was considering whether it would make sense to hit her again.

After all, he did not. But he could not stand still any longer either and went back to his seat and up and down.

"Do you know how much work it is for me to give you opportunities like this? And what do you make of it. Nothing! You never make anything out of it. Once again you've ruined everything. Are you doing this to spite me! All day long you don't have to do anything while I put your food on the table and put a roof over your head and throw money out of the window for you! And where's the gratitude for that!"

As he roared, he took his cup from the table and threw it against the wall.

Meia winced and grabbed her dress again.

The shards bounced clatteringly behind the glass cabinets. The tea splashed against the glass and the wall and ran off the paint in little drops. The cup had still been full.

"For your whole life you have only one small task to do for me, and even that you can't manage!" He stood in front of her again. "Why not?" he asked calmly, but on the verge of exploding.

Meia remained silent. She had no answer to this question.

Meanwhile, he looked down at her as if appraising her.

"Why not, I asked!"

His voice was louder again.

As Meia looked down, she noticed his hand in her field of vision again. This time she tried to protect herself. She backed away and raised her arms.

But he did not hit her. He grabbed her by the dress above the chest and pulled her a step closer to him with a strong jerk.

At that moment she heard a tearing. The fabric at her back became loose.

The dress was broken.

"Don't you care about our family?"

~What family...~

He continued to rant and paced again. Meia was still looking at him, but was really just watching the candles again. She could still hear what he was saying, but was no longer listening to him.

She tasted salt. She had failed again. Even though she could have foreseen everything.

His voice grew louder and he came to her again. Meia saw him raise his hand again.

In the end, it was her own fault. She should have tried on the dress longer. She should have acted less foolishly.

She let her arms hang. It was her fault, so she would have to accept the punishment for her behaviour.

Reaching into the dress with both hands, she stood waiting before him. Her legs were trembling.

As his hand came closer, she squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to be struck.

But again nothing happened.

When she opened her eyes again, he grabbed her straight around the chin.

His fingers pressed into her cheeks.

"Argh... Why do you have to look like that?"

In disgust, he pulled his hand away

He went back to his seat and sat down.

His posture was dejected. He propped his head up with one hand and his gaze went towards the floor.

"Get out of my sight." he said emotionlessly without looking at her.

Had he lost interest? Was she allowed to leave? Just like that? Was she no longer worth his trouble?

While Meia left the room, he said nothing more. He didn't even look at her any more.

Only when she was already taking the first steps up did he shout after her.

"And take that off! ... that does not belong to you."

The last part was quiet and sounded endlessly disappointed. When Meia heard it, she stopped.

He had never acted like that or said anything like that before. For a moment she felt nothing, then she understood.

It sounded as if her father had given up on her.

From everything that had happened today, it was this one sentence that hurt her the most.

.../ End Part