The wooden window on the eastern side of the main farmhouse had never been fully closed.
Agnes had clearly still been paying attention to what was happening outside.
When she saw Martha fussing anxiously over Elena, her expression darkened.
“It’s only a broken stool.
She didn’t even fall.
Look at the state you’re in.
You’ve been making a fuss since noon.
Is anyone on this farm going to get a moment of peace?”
Martha stiffened slightly at the words.
She did not argue.
Instead, she lowered her eyes to the stool, which now had one leg completely broken.
There was obviously no saving it for the moment.
Martha moved the broken stool beside the stone wall, then went to the small wooden shelter beside the old orchard cottage and found a sturdier low wooden crate.
She folded an old piece of wool cloth over the top and pressed down several times to make sure it would hold.
Only then did she carefully help Elena sit down.
“Stay here and enjoy the sun for a while.
Don’t wander off.
Mama needs to finish cleaning the kitchen, but I’ll be back soon.”
Elena nodded.
“Okay.”
Martha picked up the bowls and plates they had used for lunch and hurried back toward the cottage kitchen.
Halfway there, she seemed to remember something and glanced back at Elena.
Elena gave her a small nod, silently assuring her that she would behave.
Only then did Martha finally go inside.
The old orchard soon became quiet again.
Elena sat on the wooden crate with the folded wool beneath her, her back resting against the stone wall warmed by the afternoon sun.
On the surface, she looked as quiet and unaware as the old Elena had always been.
But from the corner of her eye, she was watching everything around her.
Farther across Miller Farm, Bertha was still cleaning the dirty water she had spilled outside the main farmhouse kitchen.
Apparently, seeing Elena suddenly walk out of the cottage had startled her badly enough to make her drop the bucket.
Now she was struggling to clean the ground with an old brush and several pieces of absorbent cloth.
The dishwater was mixed with scraps of food, and after sitting in the afternoon sun for a while, the smell was becoming unpleasant.
It did not take long for movement to come from the main farmhouse again.
Agnes, who had been about to close the window, suddenly stopped.
She frowned, apparently catching the smell.
After looking outside, she quickly noticed the mess in front of the kitchen.
Her expression immediately turned dark.
The main farmhouse door opened a moment later.
Agnes strode outside with a dark brown wool coat around her shoulders.
“Bertha!”
Bertha visibly stiffened.
She turned and saw Agnes’s expression.
“Mother, I’m cleaning it now…”
“You can’t even empty a bucket of dirty water without making a mess?”
Agnes marched over to the kitchen door and stared at the wet ground.
Her temper immediately rose.
“Everyone has to go back to the fields this afternoon, and now you’ve turned the kitchen entrance into this.
If it attracts a swarm of flies, are you planning to stand here all day chasing them away?”
Bertha quickly lowered her head.
“I didn’t mean to spill it.
I suddenly saw Elena outside and lost my grip…”
“She’s a person, not something that crawled out of a grave.
What were you screaming for?”
Agnes glared at her.
“Clean it up.”
Bertha shrank back and immediately crouched down again, no longer daring to argue.
Elena watched quietly from near the old orchard cottage.
After the past two days, she was beginning to understand Agnes fairly well.
The old woman had a bad temper and an even sharper tongue.
She clearly held a great deal of authority in the family.
Neither Martha nor Bertha seemed willing to argue with her.
But although Agnes was forceful, she was not completely unreasonable.
Ever since Elena woke up, the old woman had spoken harshly, yet she had always remembered that Elena was injured.
She had remembered to leave food for her.
Even when the stool broke earlier, Agnes’s complaints had come only after she saw that Elena had not actually fallen.
Elena was about to look away when she noticed Agnes staring directly at her from across the farm.
Their eyes met.
Elena’s thoughts sharpened.
She had been watching too carefully.
The old Elena would never have sat there quietly studying other people like this.
Her expression immediately relaxed.
She lowered her head and nudged a small stone beside her shoe with the tip of her foot.
Then she looked back at Agnes with the same foolish smile the old Elena often wore.
“Hehe…”
Agnes frowned at her for a moment.
Apparently deciding she had imagined whatever had seemed strange, she soon looked away.
“Sit still and don’t wander around.”
With that, she turned and went back into the main farmhouse.
Elena watched her disappear through the wooden door.
Only then did the smile slowly fade from her face.
Pretending to be slow was more troublesome than she had expected.
Especially around people who had known the original Elena for sixteen years.
A look.
A movement.
Even speaking a little too clearly could be enough to make someone suspicious.
She would have to be more careful.
For now, at least, she could finally sit quietly in the sun.
The autumn afternoon was pleasantly warm.
The stone wall behind her had absorbed some of the heat, while the edge of the cottage roof blocked most of the cool breeze.
Sitting here was far more comfortable than staying inside that small bedroom.
After resting against the wall for a while, Elena felt some of the exhaustion left by the fever begin to fade.
If she could, she would have happily closed her eyes and taken a nap right there.
Then she remembered the slightly damp bedding in her room and frowned.
She had burned with fever all night and sweated heavily.
Naturally, the sheets and wool blanket had become damp.
With the weather this good, it would be the perfect time to bring them outside and let them dry in the sun.
Sleeping in damp bedding again tonight did not sound appealing.
Unfortunately, she still had to behave like her old self.
If she suddenly returned to her room, stripped the bed, and carried the sheets and blanket outside to air them, people would certainly find it strange.
Elena thought for a moment, then opened her mouth toward the cottage kitchen.
“Ah…
Mama…”
Sure enough, the kitchen door opened soon afterward.
Martha hurried out while wiping her hands on her apron.
“Elena, what’s wrong?”
She quickly came over, concern still visible on her face.
Elena was just about to lean closer and quietly explain what she wanted when a loud crash suddenly came from the direction of the farm entrance.
Bang!
The wooden gate leading toward the village road had been thrown open.
A young man rushed onto Miller Farm.
He looked to be in his early twenties, with a sturdy build and a face deeply tanned by the sun.
Sweat covered his forehead.
The sleeves of his linen shirt were rolled above his elbows, while his dark trousers and worn leather boots were smeared with mud.
His chest rose and fell heavily from running.
Elena needed only one look before the original Elena’s memories supplied his identity.
Daniel Miller.
Thomas’s youngest brother.
Her fifth uncle.
Martha had been startled by the sudden noise.
When she recognized him, she relaxed for only a second before confusion took its place.
“Daniel?”
“Weren’t you helping the Howards repair their barn on the east side of the village today?
Why are you back already?”
Daniel did not bother explaining.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and quickly looked around the farm.
“Sister-in-law, has Thomas come back yet?”
Martha paused.
“Not yet.”
Seeing how breathless Daniel was, an uneasy feeling immediately rose inside her.
“Why?”
Daniel did not answer.
Instead, he asked another question.
“When he left this morning, was he wearing his gray coat, dark blue trousers, and those old brown boots?”
Martha’s expression gradually changed.
After thinking for a moment, she nodded.
“Yes.”
Then, as though suddenly realizing what his questions might mean, she straightened from where she had been crouching beside Elena.
“Daniel, why are you asking me that?”
“Did something happen to Thomas?”
Daniel clenched his jaw.
His expression became even worse.
“Damn…”
That one word drained the color from Martha’s face.
“What happened?”
Her voice was already beginning to tremble.
Daniel was about to answer when the door to the main farmhouse opened.
A tall, thin elderly man stepped outside.
He appeared to be in his sixties.
His hair had already turned gray at the temples, but his back remained straight.
He wore an old dark waistcoat with a wool coat draped over his shoulders, and in his right hand was a wooden pipe worn smooth from years of use.
Agnes came out directly behind him.
The irritation that had been on her face earlier was gone.
Elena recognized the man immediately.
George Miller.
The original Elena’s grandfather.
And the man who currently headed the Miller family.
George had clearly overheard the conversation.
When he stepped outside, his eyes went directly to Daniel.
“That’s the worst habit of yours.
You never finish what you’re saying.”
His voice was stern.
“What happened to Thomas?”
“Tell us properly.”
Daniel no longer dared to delay.
“I was working at the Howards’ place when I ran into someone from the village who’d just come back from Greenwood.”
He caught his breath before continuing.
“He said that on the road back, near the river outside town, he saw an overturned wagon.”
George’s expression immediately became serious.
Martha stood perfectly still.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“There was a man lying beside it.”
“Covered in blood.”
The entire area fell silent.
Even Bertha, who had been cleaning outside the main farmhouse kitchen, stopped what she was doing.
Martha’s lips moved.
It took several seconds before she managed to speak.
“But…
what does that have to do with Thomas?”
She had clearly already guessed the answer.
She simply did not want to believe it.
Daniel looked at her, his expression grim.
“The man didn’t go close enough to see who it was.
He only saw everything from a distance, so he couldn’t be sure.”
“But he said…”
Daniel hesitated.
“The man’s gray coat and dark blue trousers looked like what Thomas was wearing this morning.”
He swallowed.
“And the wagon looked like Thomas’s too.”
“What?”
George’s expression changed instantly.
The pipe slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
Agnes hurried forward and grabbed Daniel by the arm.
“Tell me clearly!”
“Was it really Thomas’s wagon?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel was sweating heavily again.
“That’s why I came back as soon as I heard.
I couldn’t be sure.
Someone has to go there and see.”
Martha stood frozen.
Thomas had driven the wagon to Greenwood early that morning.
Judging by the time, he should already have returned. This story is hosted at g.com.
But Martha’s entire attention had been on Elena today.
First her daughter’s fever had gone down.
Then Elena had suddenly become clear-minded.
After that came the need to hide the change from everyone else.
The entire day had passed without giving Martha much time to think about anything else.
She knew Thomas had not returned.
She simply had not allowed herself to imagine anything bad.
Until now.
“Thomas…”
Martha whispered.
Then she suddenly turned and rushed toward the farm entrance.
After only two steps, her body swayed.
“Sister-in-law!”
Daniel caught her before she fell.
Martha leaned against his arm, her face frighteningly pale.
After taking several breaths, she managed to steady herself.
The moment she did, she pushed away from him.
“I have to find Thomas!”
“Sister-in-law, wait—”
“How am I supposed to wait?”
Martha’s eyes instantly reddened.
“He went to Greenwood because of Elena!”
“I have to find him!”
She started toward the gate again.
George finally recovered from his shock.
“Martha!”
His stern voice stopped her.
“What good will it do if you run out there alone?”
Martha froze.
George bent down and picked up the pipe he had dropped.
His expression was just as grim as everyone else’s, but he was clearly forcing himself to remain calm.
“Daniel, go get your eldest brother.”
“The fields can wait this afternoon.
Have the men come with us to look for Thomas.
And ask around to see if anyone else has returned from Greenwood.
Find out exactly where that wagon was seen.”
“All right!”
Daniel immediately turned and ran toward the fields.
George looked at Martha.
“You can come if you want, but you’re not going out there alone.
Wait until everyone is ready.”
Martha’s eyes were red, but she knew he was right.
She nodded firmly.
George wasted no more time and went to prepare the horse and cart.
The once-quiet farm immediately became chaotic.
People hurried between the main farmhouse, the barn, and the surrounding fields.
Someone ran toward the barn.
Another person headed for the animal shed to get the horse.
Hurried footsteps and anxious voices spread across Miller Farm, completely shattering the peace of the autumn afternoon.
Only Elena remained near the stone wall of the old orchard cottage.
The moment she heard that something might have happened to Thomas, she had already risen from the wooden crate.
She had not actually met her father since arriving in this world.
But the original Elena’s memories contained many images of him.
A tall, lean figure.
A face roughened by years beneath the sun.
Large hands covered in calluses from farmwork.
Thomas had never been a man of many words.
But he had always loved his daughter.
When the family divided the rye bread, he would sometimes wait until no one was looking and break off part of his own piece for Elena.
Sometimes it was half a boiled egg.
Sometimes a little cheese.
On the rare occasions when the family had meat, he always tried to make sure his daughter received an extra bite.
Thomas was like Martha.
For sixteen years, neither of them had ever treated their daughter as a burden simply because she was different from other children.
The villagers could laugh at Elena and call her foolish.
Her parents did not care.
Other people could say that feeding a daughter like her was nothing but a waste of food.
Thomas and Martha had never once considered giving up on her.
Yesterday, Elena had fallen down the slope and injured her head before developing a high fever during the night.
Thomas had barely slept.
Then, at first light this morning, he had taken the wagon to Greenwood.
All because he wanted to find a doctor and medicine for his daughter.
And now someone had seen an overturned wagon outside Greenwood.
A man covered in blood lying beside it.
Elena felt her heart sink.
Her first instinct was to go with them.
She had barely taken one step when dizziness struck.
Her vision darkened at the edges.
She stopped immediately and braced one hand against the stone wall behind her.
This body had fallen down a slope yesterday and burned with fever all night.
Even standing for too long left her weak.
There was no chance she could make the journey to Greenwood in her current condition.
If she forced herself to go, she would not help anyone.
She would only become another person they had to look after.
Elena forced herself to stay where she was.
She lifted her head and stared toward the wooden gate leading to the village road, listening to the family hurriedly preparing to leave.
She had never truly met Thomas since coming to this world.
Yet because of the memories she had inherited, she could no longer think of him as a complete stranger.
That man had genuinely loved the original Elena.
For sixteen years, he had cared for a daughter who was different from other children and had never stopped treating her as precious.
Elena slowly pressed her lips together.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her skirt.
For the first time since arriving in this world, she desperately hoped the villager had been mistaken.
Perhaps the clothes only looked similar.
Perhaps it was another wagon.
And even if it really was Thomas…
Even if the wagon had overturned.
Even if he was hurt— as long as he was still alive, that would be enough.
Standing beneath the autumn sun, Elena stared at the road beyond the wooden gate.
Only one thought repeated itself in her mind.
Please be all right.