~Chapter 8~
After several nights of painting without rest, Winter’s whole body felt heavy and sore.
When she finally finished her work, she began cleaning up her art supplies.
Even though her mind was elsewhere, her hands moved automatically—skillful and precise as always.
She placed the heavy brush case into her old leather bag, its corners polished smooth from use. Then went in her palette, bottles of paint, and a box of charcoal. Finally, she tucked in her most precious sketchbook. The bag felt heavy when she lifted it.
She wiped down the table carefully and organized every last thing. For some reason, she put more care into it this time, cleaning every corner of the studio.
Now and then, tears welled up—but she forced herself not to cry.
Only after finishing all the cleaning did she pick up a pen and write a letter.
***
“Dear Teacher,
I’m writing this short letter to say goodbye.
Thank you for giving me your valuable lessons even though I had nothing to offer.
I still remember my first day in this studio. I was so happy—I felt like I had the whole world.
I’ll cherish those memories from Batz forever.
Thank you for taking me as your student. I’m sorry I couldn’t live up to your expectations.
Please stay healthy.
—Winter Wood.”
***
She didn’t want her farewell to sound bitter or regretful. Ellen was the one who had accepted her when no one else would.
After placing the envelope neatly on her teacher’s desk, Winter lingered, unable to walk away. Her steps circled the studio several times before she finally stepped outside, just as dawn began to break.
The streets were still quiet and cold in the early winter morning.
That’s how Winter left Batz.
***
Her destination was her hometown, but the ticket she bought was to another city. To reach the small countryside village of Ceres, she would have to transfer trains further south.
For so long, she had been chasing her dreams that even a short rest had felt like a luxury. But maybe now was the time to stop for a while.
She just wanted to go home.
She worried that her father, who had left the capital in such despair, might still be miserable.
“I’ll visit him first… and then…”
Her eyes drifted from the passing scenery outside the train window to the bag on her lap—filled with her brushes and sketchbook.
She could still paint anywhere she went.
And then, as always, her thoughts wandered to Eden.
Why had she fallen for someone from such a different world?
If time could go backward, would she have made another choice?
She didn’t know.
Falling for Eden Mayer had felt completely beyond her control.
But now, that was a name she had to forget.
“Get it together, Winter.”
She shook her head, reminding herself that it was over.
She hadn’t yet decided how she would live in her hometown, but whatever she chose, it would have nothing to do with him.
Pulling her bag closer to her knees, she curled up against the train window, trying to keep as far away as possible from the man next to her who was already snoring loudly.
***
“Winter? What brings you here without any notice?”
After a whole week of travel, she finally arrived home—only to face something she hadn’t expected.
She had been nervous about seeing her father again, unsure how to face him after everything that happened.
But she hadn’t imagined this.
Winter looked between her father, the middle-aged woman standing beside him, and the teenage girl next to her.
The moment she opened the door with her key, she walked into a cozy, warm atmosphere—the kind only families had after finishing dinner together.
After a long awkward silence, her father, Jeffrey, stepped forward.
“Ah… come in, Winter. This is Mrs. Karen—you remember her, right? She used to run the tailoring shop when you were little. And this young lady is her daughter, Cosette.”
Tailoring shop?
The word triggered a vague memory.
Karen—the woman who had kept her shop running alone after separating from her husband.
Winter hadn’t been close to her. She barely remembered ever speaking to her.
Karen greeted her first.
“It’s been a long time, Winter. Your father told me you held a big exhibition in the capital. Congratulations.”
“…Hello.”
Winter moistened her dry lips, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. Her eyes moved from Karen to the shy girl standing beside her father.
The three of them looked like a happy family.
And Winter… felt like a stranger in her own home.
Only then did she start to notice the changes around the house.
Her mother’s photo, which used to hang on the wall, was gone.
“When did all this…”
Her voice trailed off, weak and drained.
She had never been told—never even hinted—that Mrs. Karen and her daughter were living here.
Jeffrey noticed the tension and quickly said,
“Let’s go upstairs and talk. I’ll explain everything.”
He led her up the stairs, brushing his hair back nervously several times. His stiff shoulders showed how uneasy he was.
Winter followed silently, her eyes roaming around the room that used to be hers.
New curtains, a new bed, decorations she didn’t recognize, furniture arranged differently—
It was obvious this room no longer belonged to her.
“When did they start living here?”
“Well… uh…” Jeffrey hesitated before answering.
“It’s been… a little over a year. I wanted to tell you earlier, but… the right time never came. Mrs. Karen and I… we’ve known each other for a long time.”
The longer Winter stayed quiet, the heavier his sighs grew.
“I really was going to tell you, I swear.”
“Father.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just… didn’t know how to bring it up.”
Winter didn’t reply.
She had spent days worrying about him—thinking of her father living all alone, miserable and lost.
But instead, here he was… living peacefully, starting a new life.
Her eyes wandered again to the familiar-yet-strange room.
All her belongings—everything that carried her touch—was gone.
Jeffrey glanced at her nervously, then said carefully,
“Winter, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention… anything to Mrs. Karen or Cosette.”
“…What do you mean?”
Winter frowned, not understanding.
Jeffrey cleared his throat, lowering his voice as if afraid someone might overhear.
“I mean… about what happened back in Batz. Those things aren’t pleasant to talk about, and there’s no reason for anyone here to know. It’s all in the past now.”
He forced a faint smile.
“You understand, don’t you? It’s better for an old man like me to spend his remaining years peacefully—with someone I already know well—rather than alone.”
That’s when Winter realized what he was really worried about.
She had just come home after so long, but he hadn’t even asked why.
He didn’t care that she looked tired and sick.
He was only worried that the two people downstairs might learn something about his past.
“Father, is that really all you have to say to me?”
Her voice didn’t shake, though her heart did.
Jeffrey avoided her eyes.
“Well… shouldn’t you be getting back to your studio soon? You’ve been away quite a while. How long are you planning to stay?”
The way he asked made it clear:
He wanted her gone soon.
He just wanted everything to pass quietly, without trouble.
Winter didn’t need to hear more to understand.
This was the same man who had once cheated on her mother, lied about it, and then ran away with his family to start over.
Now he was doing the same thing again—living comfortably while avoiding responsibility.
He had always chosen the easiest, most cowardly path.
And it never changed.
Did he even realize how deeply his actions had hurt the woman who had loved and trusted him most?
Winter felt something inside her crumble—the last bit of strength she’d been holding onto.
There was nothing left to lean on, no one to turn to.
On the train, she’d felt sadness and fear.
But now, all she felt was emptiness.
When Eden ended things, when her teacher told her to pack up—she had still endured it all because she believed she had one place left to return to.
She had been disappointed in her father before, but she still believed he was the one person she could trust.
But now…
The baby inside her was still quietly growing, and that secret was hers alone to bear.
“I’m tired today, Father. I’ll rest early.”
“Ah, yes, of course. You must be exhausted. It’s still your old room—make yourself comfortable.”
Jeffrey stood up awkwardly, eager to escape the heavy air between them.
It was clear that his mind was downstairs—with Karen and Cosette—not with his daughter who had just come home after so long.
The kind, loving father Winter once remembered no longer existed.
Maybe he never had.
Maybe that kindness had only ever been her illusion.
