Constantine groaned as she started to wake, massaging her aching neck caused by her awkward position after falling asleep while reading. She carefully put the book back on the closest solid surface she could reach and blindly reached for her phone, only to realize that the battery was dead after tapping on the screen for a few seconds.

​

She sighed, still sleepy, plugged her phone into her backup power bank, and went about her daily morning routines. As she stood in the middle of her temporary bedroom, freshly showered (thank God the water’s still working in this house) and feeling more awake and human, she realized that she felt more energized and more “herself” in months.

​

“Huh,” she muttered. “Guess I really need a vacation.” She has already submitted a week off work; maybe she should consider extending her leave for more days. She definitely has enough days saved up.

​

Today, though, she has plans.

​

Constantine picked up her great aunt’s book and drove to the town center, surprised at how large the town was. The old buildings looked sturdy, and the locals greeted each other—and tourists—warmly. After asking around, Constantine found the town hall and was greeted by a middle-aged receptionist with a sunny smile.

​

“Good morning,” Constantine greeted. “I’d like to ask if you have any copies of documents under the name Marta Onner? Specifically about her residential property.”

​

The receptionist looked confused. “Could I ask if you’re . . ?”

​

“I’m her great niece. A letter regarding the property was sent to our family.”

​

“One second.” The receptionist moved to the back, where the other offices looked to be situated, and returned with a few dusty folders minutes later, pumps clanking on the tiles. “This is all I could find regarding Mrs. Onner’s properties, so I’m afraid I could only let you peruse them as we don’t have any more copies.”

​

“Thank you,” Constantine said, grabbing the folders and taking a seat on one of the empty tables close by. She actually had copies of the land’s deeds from the lawyer, but needed to check on something. She scanned the documents and found Antoine Onner to be the previous owner of the house, with the ownership transferring to his wife, Marta Montmer-Onner, upon his death.

​

There was no mention of Benedict Dean Clarke anywhere.

​

Constantine slowly gathered the documents, eyes furrowed. From the notes in the book, she could see that both her Great Aunt Marta and this Benedict were in love with each other, the words they shared in the book was so earnest and heartfelt. What could have happened that her great aunt ended up marrying another man?

Constantine couldn’t help but mentally scoff. A perfect start of a love story, only to fall down to pieces by time. 

Much like hers. Though Anthony preferred using flowers.

Alright, no need to jump too deep into those memories.

As she walked out of the building, the heel of her shoe was caught in one of the cracks of the concrete staircase, and suddenly, her world started to tilt downwards.

​

“Look out!”

​

Instead of the hard ground surface, Constantine felt something warm breaking the momentum of her fall for a second, only to end up on the ground at the end.

​

“Ow,” the voice under her groaned. Constantine, mortified, quickly moved away to give the stranger space, only to see a familiar face.

​

“Amelia! Oh my God, are you alright?”

​

The young girl laughed. “Nah, I’m fine. Happens to me often enough that I’m already used to it.” She grabbed the offered hand to help her up. Bags of groceries littered around them due to the little incident

​

“I am so sorry,” Constantine murmured repeatedly, voice getting frantic as she picked up the fallen items, but it was as if everything around her was starting to blur together, and a familiar gentle voice echoed the same casual mocking words she’d heard countless times.

​

[Oh, babe, so clumsy. You should really keep your eyes ahead when you’re walking . I’m not helping you clean that mess. You need to hurry up, our guests will be coming in half an hour.]

​

“. . . Hey. Hey!” Constantine blinked back at the present with Amelia looking at her, confused. “I was telling you that it’s alright, but you kept apologizing and didn’t seem to hear me.” A flicker of concern was visible on her face. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head on the concrete earlier? Do we need an ambulance?”

​

Constantine shook her head, “No, no, I’m fine.” She needs to get her emotions under control. “Did I damage anything? I could pay you–”

​

“No, no, please!” Amelia waved her arms frantically. “All my groceries are fine! See?” She lifted her bags to show that all the items inside were undamaged. “They’re all good. However, your book. . .”

​

In Amelia’s other hand was Constantine’s book. “The ground was still wet from the constant rains in the evenings, and the book flew out of your bag.” The book’s fading maroon hardcover was damp, and some pages were hanging awkwardly from the spine. “It didn’t fall into a puddle, thankfully! But it looks like it's falling apart now.”

​

Constantine carefully took the book, slowly opening the cover to inspect the damage. Amelia stood in front looking like she was about to squirm and suddenly blurted, “I could help you fix it!”

​

Constantine looked at her, shocked. The other girl looked sheepish at her sudden declaration. “Just. . . you look like you’re about to cry earlier. And now, with your book. . .”

She shouldn’t ask for help so often in every little thing.

​

[Babe, this shouldn’t be too difficult for you , right?]

​

“No, don’t worry, I can fix this myself–”

​

“Please,” Amelia cut, now offering a smile, their gazes locked. “I insist.”

​

Constantine stood frozen, unsure. Seeing the hesitance, Amelia shrugged and added, “You can give me a ride back as payment, then? I'm pretty sure you got a car, I mean, I think I saw one parked at late Mrs. Onner’s place when I made a couple of deliveries late afternoon yesterday— ” She was starting to ramble, Constantine noticed, “but then I wasn’t really sure if you had any friends you brought for help, and so it could, technically, be theirs and–”

​

“Amelia,” Constantine interjected at the barrage of words. “Okay, okay, I could drive you back. And yes, it is my car.”

​

“Oh, great! That solves things!” Amelia cheered, moved as if she was about to skip, and aborted her actions midway with a look of embarrassment after remembering where they were. Constantine’s lips curved into a small, amused smile.

​

The drive was relatively short. After helping the other woman with her groceries, Constantine was pulled by the arm by Amelia up to the second floor. “This is where my 'lair' is,” she said to her jokingly. 

The door opened to a neat and brightly lit living room. She was then pushed onto an old but surprisingly comfortable sofa with ridiculously mismatched throw pillows. A half-finished knitted article was pushed to the side, balls of yarn stacked at the coffee table.

​

“The grannies that regularly come to the cafe told me to try my hand at knitting,” Amelia said, looking at the poor-looking project. “I followed some tutorials on YouTube for blankets, but I seemed to either miss a step or have too many loops. Oh, right, we need glue!” She hissed as she bumped her knee at the edge of the table, but was back to running further into her living room, muttering the word ‘glue.’

​

Constantine carefully put the book on the table and looked around the room. Little porcelain figurines, ones that you could buy in stores at cheap prices, decorated most of the furniture. Upon closer inspection, she realized that they were all glued safely to the furniture’s surface with double-sided tape. Constantine couldn’t help but be amazed at the ingenuity.

​

There were also multiple picture frames displayed around, most probably family members, due to the similarities. The smiling faces in the pictures made Constantine smile, her memories shifting to her father. She missed him terribly, especially after everything that’s happening, but this time, the memories that surfaced offered a sense of nostalgia rather than pain. She should visit him when she gets back to the city.

​

She noticed one of the frames was face down. Curious, she picked it up and saw that it was a picture of a younger Amelia clinging to the back of a young boy, both of them beaming. The back of the frame was dusty, as if it had been lying there for some time.

​

“Aha! Found it!”

​

Constantine put the frame back as it was and returned to her seat. She heard something crash in the background, but Amelia seemed to be fine when she returned, brandishing the glue like a prize.

​

“Fair warning, I actually don’t know what I’m doing with this, but I also grabbed some tape and scissors, just in case.”

​

She opened the book carefully, pausing when she noticed the multiple notes covering the pages. “Huh, these are. . . love letters?”

​

“I found the book when I was clearing my great aunt’s place,” Constantine answered. “Little notes written by her and a man named Benedict Clarke. He seemed to be a member of the army.”

​

Amelia’s head tilted to the side, reading the notes. “They all sound really sweet. But,” she looked at Constantine, confused. “Your great aunt’s last name was Onner?”

​

“Yeah. I’m confused, too. I tried to search through the documents this town has about my great aunt, but there wasn’t anything about him.”

​

“Hmm,” Amelia hummed as she carefully put some glue on the part of the spine that got loose. “Oh! Maybe you can try the library?” At Constantine’s questioning look, Amelia pointed at the fading red seal at the back of the hardcover. “The library in town used this seal on all their books for inventory. I recognize it as I sometimes borrow a few books there.” Constantine noticed that the other woman tend to get more animated as she talks more, her hands waving around her. “If nothing else, you could probably find something about your aunt there. They had some books there regarding the history of this town, and the Onner was one of the most influential names in the past.”

​

“Really?”

​

“I think your great aunt’s husband was some high-ranking official in the army? I definitely saw his name engraved somewhere in town, though. Aaaand done with the spine!” Amelia pressed the glued part as tightly as she could. “But hey, do you think this Clarke guy was an ex? Maybe they didn’t end together because they broke up? Or maybe he, you know, died in service?”

​

She spoke as if she’s about to lose air, Constantine noted. She hummed in reply. “Could be. I’ll still try checking the library before I leave.”

For some reason, Constantine couldn’t bear to drop this story like this. There has to be some sort of explanation.

​

Amelia looked at her curiously. “Travelling back home soon?”

​

Constantine nodded. “This Sunday. I’ll have to be back to work by Monday.”

​

“Oohh, I’ve always wondered what it feels like living in big cities.”

​

Constantine chuckled without humor. “Too much stress and too little happiness. Trust me, life in the suburbs is way more peaceful and probably healthier.”

​

“Hahaha, your face! Damn, is it really that bad?” Amelia guffawed while pointing at the other’s face. “There should be at least something worthy there for you.”

Anthony’s face flashed on her mind for a second. “I don’t think I have that anymore.”

The soft, almost involuntary confession snuffed out the comfortable atmosphere. Both girls fell silent, with Amelia’s eyes darting around and Constantine’s glued to her hands in her lap.

“W-well! If you get tired of city life, you could always stay. . . here? I mean, I got an extra room I could rent.” Amelia was getting more embarrassed by the second, giving the other woman a sheepish look. She looked as if she didn’t know what to say.

Constantine couldn’t help but snort softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The relieved look on the other woman’s face made her even more amused.

The hours seemed to move faster than usual between talks about work (“I work in an office,” Constantine answered. “Mostly secretarial stuff.”). By late afternoon, Amelia managed to mostly patch up the book with glue and tape. “If you live in a large family, things tend to get damaged easily. More so if you have the same motor skills as I,” Amelia stated after Constantine commented on it.

​

That night, as Constantine was finishing dinner, her eyes wandered to where the book was placed. The afternoon passed by pleasantly, and it’s been so long since she enjoyed such enjoyable company.

Before she talked herself out, she picked up her phone and opened her messaging app. Her fingers hovered on Amelia’s contact when an incoming message from her mother flashed her screen. 

Wondering what her mother wanted to talk about, she opened the message, only to feel something cold filling through her veins.

| Mother: Lizzie’s here in the house. Why are you not answering her calls?