The rest of the summer passed completely unnoticed, and already autumn had arrived.
Autumn in Little Hangleton was golden.
The leaves on the trees turned yellow, red, and fell, covering the roads with a rustling carpet. The air had grown cold, the grass was covered with frost in the mornings, and during the day the sun still warmed, though not as hot as in the summer.
Meanwhile, I had been working at the stables for the second month.
Thomas turned out to be not very talkative, but a kind master. He spoke little and mostly just showed me what to do, nodding approvingly when I did everything correctly. Sometimes, at lunch, we would sit in his little hut, drink tea from the old kettle, and chat a bit about various things.
"You know, I really didn't regret hiring you," he said once. "The horses like you, even the fussiest ones. You don't often meet a person like that."
Meanwhile, I was stroking an old mare named Daisy, who, I think, liked me especially. Daisy closed her eyes in pleasure and sighed quietly.
"I love them too," I replied sincerely.
And indeed, during this time working at the stables, I realized that horses could sometimes be even better than people.
Though the work at the stables was hard, it gave me something I had never had — a sense of being needed. The animals didn't care where I came from or who I was. All that mattered to them was that they were cared for, that they were given hay on time, water, and that their coats were cleaned.
So, one could say that during this time I truly gained many "friends" among the horses.
In the village, however, people still treated me with caution. The rumors spread by the Bagshot brothers had not died down. I was still called "the witch," "the outsider," "that strange girl." But no one openly bothered me — perhaps they feared my supposedly magical abilities, or perhaps Mrs. Cole protected me with her authority.
But it wasn't as if I was completely alone in this village.
I did, in fact, gain one friend.
The only person who didn't shy away from me and spoke to me kindly was the baker's daughter.
I had first met her in the bakery about a month ago.
The sweet girl stood behind the counter with the bread and smiled at everyone — sunny, open, as if each customer were her best friend. Rosy-cheeked, round-faced, with golden curls peeking out from under her cap, she really made a pleasant impression.
"Hello!" she said to me when it was my turn. "Buy a bun! Fresh today, with cinnamon!"
I stopped. I didn't have much money. Originally, I had come to the bakery only to buy bread at Mrs. Cole's request. But a cinnamon bun… I remembered their smell from the bakery in the mornings, which even reached Mrs. Cole's house. It was truly fragrant.
At least, I could buy one bun just for her.
"How much?" I asked.
"One penny," she handed me a warm, rosy bun. "Help yourself. You're Merope, right? The one who works at Binns' stables?"
I nodded, taking the bag with the pastry.
"And I'm Maggie," the girl smiled even wider. "Maggie Thompson. My dad's a baker. We're all locals here, so come by anytime, don't be shy!"
"…Thank you," I said, even blushing a little.
Maggie just laughed.
"You're funny. Hey, why do you always walk around alone? Do you have any friends here?"
I shook my head.
"That's fine," she winked. "Then from now on, I'll be your friend!"
And just like that, our friendship began.
Maggie was my complete opposite. She had grown up in a loving family, had two brothers and a younger sister, was pampered, adored, and never mistreated. She didn't know hunger, cold, or fear. The world was completely bright and understandable for her.
Sometimes she noticed the expression of sadness on my face that appeared from time to time and tried to cheer me up.
"Merope, why are you so sad? Look at what a beautiful day it is!"
"…It really is beautiful," I would agree.
"Then why aren't you smiling?" she nudged me with her shoulder. "Smile! You only live once!"
And I would stop feeling sad and smile. With someone like her, it really was easy.
Maggie didn't ask me unnecessary questions. She simply accepted me as I was. Perhaps because she was too young and naive.
After my work or on weekends, we often sat together on the bench by the church and ate apples that grew on the local apple tree.
One day, Maggie finally decided to ask me about it. Apparently, she had wanted to ask for a long time, but only now gathered the courage.
"Listen," Maggie said, chewing an apple. "Why do you live with Mrs. Cole? You're not related to her, and many people know that."
I froze for a moment.
"…Why do you think so?" I asked cautiously.
"Well…" Maggie shrugged. "Mrs. Cole herself moved to our village about fifteen years ago. And she said at the time that she had no relatives. So no one came to visit her all those years. Even I knew that. So… Can you tell me the truth? Don't be afraid, I won't tell anyone!"
I looked at her and didn't even know what to say. Honestly, I was a bit taken aback, as I hadn't suspected that many villagers already knew about it.
And yet… Maggie was my only friend here. In the end, I decided to simply tell her the truth.
"I… I ran away from home," I finally managed to say. "It was bad there. And Mrs. Cole agreed to take me in."
Maggie surprisingly accepted this easily and just nodded, as if my words didn't surprise her too much.
"I see. We also had a neighbor who lived with her drunken father; he often beat her. She couldn't take it and drowned herself in the river. It was a scandal across the whole village!" Maggie sighed. "But it's good that you're alright."
I almost choked on my apple.
"You… you…" I couldn't find words immediately. "You're really not surprised at all?"
"Why would I be?" Maggie smiled. "Life, you know, is complicated. I understand everything."
After that conversation, which undoubtedly left a mark on my soul, I seemed to trust Maggie more than before.
I couldn't even fully believe my own happiness.
Could it be that in this world I really had my first friend, someone I could trust?…