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Chapter 9 – How’s the Weather?

"What a delightful day for a stroll." The sun played peek-a-boo behind a delicate veil of clouds, generously casting its light and warmth upon those below. A gentle breeze caressed his cheeks and stirred the luscious green canopies of nearby trees.

/meow/

Allen cast a glance back at the ebony cat perched defiantly on the store steps, showing no inclination to move its regal behind. Her gaze was accusatory as she silently judged him.

Allen crouched down until he was at eye level with the lazy feline. “Come on now, you’ll thank me later. It’s not like I’m putting a lease on you now, is it?” He conveniently overlooked the fact that his lack of funds was the sole reason for not doing so. If the opportunity presented itself, he wasn't averse to the idea.

The onyx fur felt velvety under his touch, as always. The sensation was therapeutic, and he often found himself absentmindedly petting the cat while engrossed in his reading or during moments of daydreaming in his writing sessions. Lately, he had observed an increased frequency in his mind wandering, possibly a result of insufficient stimulation.

/meoow/

A small grin adorned Allen's face as he was proven right. Despite Midnight's initial complaints when he started walking away without acknowledging her, she eventually tagged along. He slowed his pace, allowing the cat to catch up with him.

“See, it’s not too bad.”

/meow-_-/

Exiting the street that housed the bookstore and entering the more bustling part of town, Allen took a moment to absorb the change in surroundings. It was so...strange, transitioning from the often-empty street to one teeming with activity and life.

He walked among them as a member of the community. A few curious glances were thrown in the direction of the man-and-cat duo, but nobody ventured up to interact with them. Allen didn’t mind; in fact, he preferred it.

/meow/

Midnight playfully tapped at the door of what appeared to be a trinket store. Allen gently pushed the door open and locked eyes with the woman stationed at the front desk, currently assisting another customer.

"Welcome! Feel free to ask if you have any questions. Just call out for Alice," the cheerful young woman exclaimed with a radiant smile, then turned her attention back to the indecisive customer.

Allen expressed his gratitude with a nod before immersing himself in the intriguing array of items adorning the crowded shelves. There was a clear pattern of organization despite the lack of spare space in the small store.

A giddy sensation bubbled up from somewhere down deep as his eyes greedily absorbed the sight before his eyes. Each item had a history, a story. The displays of creativity left him impressed as his gaze flitted from one item to the next.

He lifted a peculiar ancient statue, its numerous metallic arms catching the light as he rotated it in his hands. The piece had a satisfying weight, and its craftsmanship revealed intricate details as he brought it closer to the natural light shining through the window.

"It's believed to bring protection to its owners—a wonderful addition to any home or business, especially with all the recent unrest," the young woman informed him. She had finished assisting the previous customer and was now arranging items on a nearby shelf. Allen looked up at her, intrigued.

"Is that so?"

"It is if you believe it to be," Alice chuckled, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Isn't that the case with such things?"

Her playful demeanor infected Allen, and he couldn't help but respond, "And I suppose your customers are such foolish believers then?" He appreciated the refreshing straightforwardness.

Alice tilted her head in thought before replying, “Oh, there’s absolutely nothing foolish in believing. What’s wrong with seeking comfort when met with struggles?” She shrugged. “At least that’s how I see it.”

“Would you say you’re also a believer?”

“Hmmm. I suppose I’m a bit more cynical, but I don’t actively deny the possibility if that’s what you’re wondering. Who knows? My dad always said not believing is one thing but respect is another.” There was a moment of silence as she paused. “Sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I? I’ve been told I talk and share way too much. My apologies.”

“No, no. I very much appreciate your view, and your father sounds like a wise man.” Allen reassured her genuinely. He enjoyed hearing about the stories and experiences of those around him.

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“He was…wasn’t he?” Her gaze turned distant for a moment before snapping back to reality with practiced ease. "Thank you for your kind words, Mr..."

“Call me Allen, please.”

"Alright, Mr. Allen." She faced him and winked. "Is there anything else in the store that piques your interest? ... besides me, of course. Oh goodness, I should stop."

Allen chuckled as Alice’s face flushed pink at her own words.

“Let me know if you need anything!” She hurried away as the door opened, signaling the entrance of another customer.

Allen browsed the shelves absentmindedly with an ear tuned inquisitively to the nearby conversation.

"Welcome—hello, it’s been a while... how are you?"

"I'm well. The weather is quite nice today, isn't it?" A male voice reached his ears.

"Yes, it is. Is there anything I can help you with today? A purchase or..."

"I've come across an item from my attic left behind by my great aunt on my mother’s side. I was thinking of getting an appraisal from someone I trust."

/Meow/

Allen glanced at the cat that had returned from its solo adventure with a light layer of dust on her tiny head. He chuckled as he brushed it off, "Where have you been, Midnight? At least you didn't get yourself stuck somewhere silly, needing my rescue." Thank goodness she’s not an orange cat.

Alright, It was time to go. He couldn’t spend his entire trip in a single store. Waving goodbye to the preoccupied Alice, he left the store with his cat in tow. Many places awaited his discovery.

-

Alice POV

A somber expression lingered on her face as she observed the man departing, only to transform into her usual cheerful demeanor as a regular customer entered.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Kate! Let me know if you need anything!"

Her attention shifted back to the item on the table, tightly wrapped in numerous layers. The package felt heavy in her hands and not in the physical sense.

{“Is Donavan here?” The man abandoned all pretense as soon as the last customer left the store.

“He’s on an errand, but he should be back soon. Is there any message you’d like me to pass on to the manager-”

“It’s fine,” The man interjected, “Please hand this package to him. Don’t open it.” He locked eyes with her, a stern warning conveying the gravity of his words.

"I know," Alice replied, looking away from the intense stare that seemed haunted by something ominous. She had no interest in delving into the details.

“Good.” }

She silently prayed for Donovan's swift return. She hadn't signed up for any dubious dealings when she took the job, and she wanted no part in whatever shady business was unfolding. Her salary had also not been raised for a while…

She was jolted from her thoughts as Mrs. Kate approached her, holding a peculiar metallic statue. "Sorry for the bother, dear, but I was wondering about this statue?"

“Oh, of course! Don’t worry about it. It brings protection to its owner, a great addition to the home or your bakery.”

The old lady's eyes brightened at the description. "Oh, that sounds amazing, considering the unrest going on recently." She leaned in with a curious look. "Have you heard about the recent missing people case?"

"Oh? Really?" She was aware, but Mrs. Kate seemed so eager to share the news that she couldn't bring herself to deny the older woman the chance.

"Yes. They're all from lower-class families in the slums, which is not particularly surprising. Those poor people always get targeted by unsavory folks; such a shame, I tell you. I once knew a nice young lady about your age from the area..."

Alice patiently listened as Mrs. Kate veered off for a while before attempting to recall the main point. "You were talking about how they always get targeted."

“Yes…Yes! Exactly. Most of them never receive the justice they deserve, but this time, the authorities seem particularly interested in the case.”

“Oh? Is that not a good thing?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you? Most families would be overjoyed at the promise of help to find their loved ones, but guess what? They refused to cooperate with the authorities! Isn’t that strange?”

Alice frowned; this part was news to her. "Do you know why?"

Mrs. Kate shrugged. "Nobody knows. But there are rumors that they were sold on the black market to feed the rest of the family. Or perhaps they ran away to join a cult, and the families are too embarrassed to admit it. Nevertheless, I do hope they find the poor souls soon."

Alice carefully packaged the statue for the old lady, her gaze absentmindedly following her as she departed. The door swung shut, muffling the sounds of the outside world. Missing people. The rest of the family not acting concerned. Just like back then…could it be possible? That was so many years ago and the culprit was sentenced to death. A public execution.

The ambient sounds of the outside world returned, and Alice looked up to see a familiar face entering her field of vision.

“Donovan! You’re finally back. I-”

*Riiiiiiing*

A high-pitched ringing, unlike anything she had ever heard, interrupted her. For a moment, she was puzzled about its source, then her eyes traced down to the package in her hands.

*Riiiiiiiiiiing*

Donovan quickly approached and seized the package. "I've got it. It's probably some buggy mechanism my friend needed me to fix..."

Alice watched as he entered a locked room in the back with the object, the only room she wasn't allowed to enter. She averted her gaze as the door closed, and the ringing ceased. Perhaps he was right. Regardless, it was none of her business.

The front door opened once more. "Welcome! I'm Alice; let me know if you need anything!"