The Eve Before

Chapter 11

The market was alive in a way that made Evelyn feel both invisible and exposed at the same time. Voices claimed over another– Vendors haggling, children darting between stalls, the steady clatter of wooden carts on uneven stone. The air smelled like roasted chestnut and pine and something smoky she couldn't name. It was nothing like New York, yet the chaos felt familiar enough to almost ground her

Almost.

Clara walked half a step ahead, her excitement bubbling over. "You're going to love it here," she said weaving through a cluster of shoppers. "During the winter week, everyone's nicer. Well.. except maybe the baker. They get stressed."

Evelyn nodded, trying to absorb everything without staring too hard.

Clara didn't seem to notice how tightly Evelyn folded her hands together or how carefully she watched her surroundings. Evelyn was still learning how things worked here– what was normal, what was suspicious, what words existed and what words absolutely didn't –She hadn't heard one vulgar curse word since she arrived. Every conversation felt like stepping on thin ice.

They moved past a stall displaying ornaments shaped like constellations. Clara lifter a carved wooden star, smiling wide. " you should get one"

Evelyn reached out, running a finger over the smooth wood. It felt warm, handcrafted, real. Not mass-produced. Not anything like what she grew up with. But the stall keeper watched her with thinly veiled suspicion, eyes narrowing at her hesitant movement.

Evelyn set the ornament down gently. "Maybe later," she mummured.

Clara shrugged, already distracted by a booth selling drinks in cone shaped containers. "Your choice! But don't wait too long; they sell out fast."

They rounded a corner into the heart of the district. A wise stone plaza stretches out, the center dominated by a tall evergreen wrapped in twinkling string lights. Volunteers hung garlands along the railings, humming as they moved–easy, unhurried, connected to one another in a way she wasn't used to seeing. It felt... communal.

Then the crowd thinned for just a moment, and Clara froze.

"Ohhh. Don't stare," She whispered.

Evelyn followed her gaze before she could stop herself.

A woman moved through the plaza with quiet authority. She wasn't dressed extravagantly –dark coat, thick gloves, hair pinned neatly under a winter cap– but people stepped aside for her without hesitation. Not out of fear. Out of respect.

Evelyn recognized her almost immediately and straightened, suddenly wishing she'd stayed back. Mrs Hawthorne scanned the stalls with sharp precision, checking displays, nodding to vendors. It was the unmistakable presence of someone used to being obeyed.

Then her gaze landed on Evelyn.

Not a glance, A lock.

Evelyn's stomach tightened.

Mrs Hawthorne altered her direction with the smallest shift of her shoulders, her boots tapping against stone until she stood directly in front of them.

"Good morning," she said. Her tone was perfectly polite–but carried an edge Evelyn couldn't name. "We meet again"

Evelyn forced her voice to stay steady. " Yes, I hope you're alright?"

"You're visiting?" She asked studying her.

"Yes–I am" Evelyn answered wishing she could disappear.

"For how long?"

Evelyn hesitated. Just half a second. But the woman caught it. "I'm...still figuring that out."

"Your accent... it's unfamiliar, never heard it before."

"I've travelled a lot," Evelyn replied.

"From?"

Evelyn's mouth went dry."Different places."

Clara jumped in, unaware of the tension thickening between them. "She's staying with us! She had nowhere to go so Jacob helped–"

Mrs Hawthorne's eyes flicked towards Clara– suddenly aware of the other woman's presence. Then back to Evelyn, and something in her expression shifted. Not anger. Not hostility.

Suspicion. Or the beginning of it.

" I see," she mummured.

She didn't move immediately. For a few seconds, she simply observed Evelyn–Everything about her. Evelyn felt like she was being cataloged.

Then with a curt nod, She stepped past them.

Clara exhaled dramatically. "Whew, she always does that, makes you feel like she knows something you don't."

Evelyn swallowed. "Yes...she does."

She glanced back just in time to see Mrs Hawthorne turn the corner, her pace faster, posture stiff, as if heading somewhere with purpose.

She definitely wasn't liked.