TPCF 76

Chapter 76 

It would’ve been nice if Anita could say she had lost sleep because of a romantic midnight rendezvous, but the truth was that the moment her head hit the pillow, she was out cold. Probably drained of energy. Still half-asleep, Anita shoved a piece of bread into her stomach and headed for the door.

“Hm?”

On the stairway railing sat a yellow box. Thinking it was a package from afar, Anita picked it up with one hand and, with the other, opened the door again. She gave the box a lazy glance, intending only to tell her mother where it came from—then her eyes widened.

R.B

Just two letters, yet they looked familiar. Anita froze in place, box in hand. All the sleepiness clinging to her eyelids fell away in an instant. When her daughter, supposedly off to school, stood stuck in the doorway in a daze, Mrs. Rodel approached.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

Feeling guilty for no reason, Anita hid the gift box behind her back. Seeing the meaningful glint in her mother’s eyes, she instinctively stepped back.

“W–why are you looking at me like that?”

“Well now. I’m just glad to see our neighbors getting along so well.”

It didn’t sound like she was talking about a birthday present from Rutger.

“It snowed a lot last night.”

When Anita tried to change the subject so bluntly, Mrs. Rodel let her.

“That’s right. I was up all night working on my thesis, and the snow really came down.”

Looking at her mother’s teasing smile, Anita suddenly envied the worms hidden underground.

“…I’ll be going, then.”

“Go on.”

Shrugging as if she’d never tried to stop her, Mrs. Rodel went back inside.

Passing by the gardener watering the trees with a hose, Anita suddenly stopped. What Rutger had done the night before—reckless to the point of acrobatics—flashed through her mind.

“Mr. Müller.”

“Ye-es?”

Müller, who worked in the Rodels’ garden, was so absorbed in watering that he drew out his reply.

“Could you maybe get me a net?”

“A net?”

Finally turning toward her, Müller regarded Anita, who had interrupted his work.

His muscular right arm was covered in tattoos of rose vines, yet despite his fierce looks, the man was gentle. Smoking was forbidden in the garden, so today too he had a piece of grass stuck in his mouth instead of a cigarette.

“What do you need it for?”

He narrowed his eyes and looked down at the uninvited guest.

“Well… I just felt sorry for cats that climb up trees and can’t get down.”

“Ah, cats?”

Unfortunately, Anita was a terrible liar. She rolled her eyes in a way that made it obvious she was hiding something.

“Y-yes.”

“Hmm. Well, all right. That’s not too hard.”

“If possible, make it a strong one, please.”

“……”

“Something sturdy enough to hold up even a leopard.”

He quickly saw through her flimsy excuse but simply nodded.

Anita knew she’d be late if she didn’t hurry, but she still stopped every three steps. Looking down, she saw her boot prints pressed into the snow.

It was a sentimental thought, but the snow blanketing the street and the peaceful scenery did feel romantic. Going to school and sitting through classes, though, felt anything but.

People assumed Anita liked school simply because she was a model student. But in truth, she didn’t. The economics lectures she had no interest in only made her yawn, and the whispers of students trying to make the dull class seem exciting annoyed her.

What if I just… didn’t go?

Like most dreamers who live inside books, Anita had little interest in the reality looming over her.

The snow resting on the branches was beautiful, and the sky was too clear.

Heading toward that rigid square school building for classes would ruin the perfect mood she’d been feeling.

So, turning away from the path to school, Anita’s heart raced as she walked in the opposite direction. She wandered the streets aimlessly. The morning scenery, normally unseen when trapped between school and home, felt refreshing. After walking for quite some time and growing tired, Anita stopped by a bookstore and bought a book.

She sat on a bench in the park to read, but when hunger struck, she bought a sandwich.

The book she had chosen was a murder mystery set in a locked room—not exactly light reading to go with a meal. The texture of ham in her mouth suddenly felt repulsive, and Anita set the sandwich down.

Before she knew it, the sun was setting. The day had been far too short. After breaking the leftover bread into pieces and tossing it to the birds, Anita stood.

So much for rebellion. In the end, all she had done was read a book, no different from usual.

Her steps toward the park had been light, but her return home was heavy. All the real-world worries she had shoved aside began to creep back in.

And those worries soon became reality.

Creeping up the stairs like a stray cat, Anita flinched. Something was standing in the dark landing.

“Anita Rodel.”

Her name fell like a death sentence, and Anita squeezed her eyes shut.