"The moon has always been red, hasn't it?"
This short sentence struck Mel like a thunderbolt, leaving her frozen in pce.
Her hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force.
Through the mirror, Mel saw her own face.
Her slightly pale skin, her slender eyebrows furrowed slightly, and a droplet of water still clinging to the corner of her mouth, as if she was struggling to comprehend this sudden revetion.
Even her long, smooth gray hair, which Veronica had meticulously combed, now seemed dull and lifeless, swaying gently with the faint trembling of her lips.
Her amber eyes reflected Veronica's slightly puzzled yet tender face in the mirror.
"What... did you say?"
"Is there something wrong?" Veronica's expression grew even more confused.
She turned Mel around and gently pressed her forehead against hers, as if checking her temperature.
"No fever..."
Veronica frowned, her voice filled with concern.
"Are you feeling unwell, Mel?"
"N-no..." Mel shook her head, "It's just... you said the moon... how could the moon be red?"
"The moon has always been red," Veronica's voice carried an unshakable certainty, "Isn't that common knowledge?"
"Com... common knowledge?"
Mel felt a wave of dizziness, her vision beginning to blur.
The walls of the bathroom seemed to spin around her, and she clung to the edge of the sink, trying to steady herself.
Trembling, Mel stumbled out of the bathroom, only to see a decorative painting hanging on the wall.
It was a night scene.
In the painting, a massive red moon hung high in the night sky, casting the entire world in a blood-red hue.
Mel stared at the painting, feeling a surge of nausea and discomfort.
"This... this can't be..."
The girl muttered to herself, her limbs beginning to tremble uncontrolbly.
"The moon... the moon is supposed to be white... this can't be... it's impossible..."
Hearing this, Veronica, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, immediately looked horrified. She quickly embraced Mel, who had colpsed onto a chair, and gently stroked her back.
"Mel, such words are bsphemy against the Red Moon! You must never say such things!" Veronica said sternly, then raised her hands to the sky in a gesture of prayer.
"Red Moon above, please forgive my sister's careless words... she's just been too tired tely."
As she spoke, her fingers gently caressed Mel's hair, her movements soothing and comforting.
"You must be exhausted, Mel. Is the pressure from school too much?"
Mel leaned into her sister's embrace, feeling the warmth radiating from her body. The familiar body heat and faint scent should have comforted her, but now it couldn't dispel the chill in her heart.
Her gaze fell once again on the small night scene painting, the red moon in the painting seeming to mock her confusion.
That red moon was so vivid, so unnatural.
It was like a giant, malevolent eye, coldly gazing down upon the world.
"I don't know, sister..." Mel's voice was filled with helplessness, "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"It's okay, I'll stay by your side, don't worry..."
At noon, Veronica went out.
She was a librarian at a local library.
To take care of Mel, Veronica didn’t work te into the evening as usual but chose to return home by dusk.
She also took a day off from the library, pnning to take Mel to the church tomorrow.
Veronica pushed open the door, greeting Mel as she pced something on the table.
Curious, Mel walked over to the table and looked at the box Veronica had brought back.
It was a cake.
"Why did you buy a cake?"
Mel walked over to Veronica, helping her with the preparations while asking.
"Well... because I thought you might want some, so I bought it," Veronica replied with a smile. "Was I wrong?"
Hearing this, Mel was momentarily stunned.
She paused for a moment, then shook her head with a smile.
"You caught me."
"Of course I did," Veronica chuckled proudly before focusing back on her task.
Mel, meanwhile, washed the vegetables beside her. The cold water ran over her fingers but couldn’t wash away the confusion in her heart.
Recalling the figure completely enveloped in filth in that alley, Mel’s fingers trembled slightly.
That gaze from the depths of the soul felt like a beast lurking in the darkness, watching its prey.
"Gurgle, gurgle—"
The water in the pot began to boil, and steam filled the air.
"Mel, could you help me chop the carrots?"
Veronica’s voice pulled Mel back to reality. She nodded, then picked up the kitchen knife and started chopping. The sound of the bde cutting through the carrots echoed in the kitchen.
"Wow, Mel, your skills are getting better and better," Veronica remarked, gncing over.
"You’re really getting the hang of using the knife."
"Am I?"
Mel looked down at the cutting board in front of her. Only after Veronica mentioned it did she realize it was true.
"I always knew our Mel was a clever girl," Veronica said, patting Mel’s head with a smile. "You’ve done enough; I’ll take care of the rest."
Mel nodded, then picked up the ptes and walked to the dining table, setting them out one by one.
Out of curiosity, she opened the cake box and saw a raspberry mousse inside.
"So, food doesn’t have a soul..." Mel murmured to herself.
A while ter, Veronica pced a steaming pot of creamy stew on the table and dled a portion into Mel’s bowl.
The hot, white steam rose, forming a thin, veil-like curtain in the air.
"I added extra cream today," Veronica said as she sliced the bread. The freshly baked white bread exuded a warm, wheaty aroma, its golden crust giving way to a soft interior.
"How about we go to the market tomorrow? There’s a new fabric shop that just opened. I heard they have lots of beautiful patterns, and the prices are really affordable. We could make a couple of new dresses while we’re at it."
Veronica continued talking, and as Mel looked at her sister’s gentle smile, the dark threads tangled around her soul seemed to soften a little.
After finishing dinner, Veronica cleaned up the dishes, while Mel instinctively picked up the packed trash bag and left the house to dispose of it.
This was a long-standing habit between the two sisters—one would wash the dishes, and the other would take out the trash.
As night fell, the gas mps along the street lit up one by one, casting a dim, yellowish glow on the ground.
Mel carried the trash bag, walking along the familiar path toward the garbage disposal area.
After tossing the trash, Mel cpped her hands and turned to leave.
"Tap, tap—"
The sound of her leather shoes hitting the cobblestone road was particurly clear in the quiet street. Mel walked at a steady pace but suddenly came to a halt.
She seemed to catch a whiff of blood in the air.
The girl froze in pce, sniffing the faint scent of blood that drifted toward her.
"Help me..."
A weak cry for help came from the alley behind her, filled with despair and helplessness.
"Is there anyone... who can save me..."
Mel stopped, hesitating for a moment. She retracted the foot she was about to step forward with, seemingly torn between ignoring the situation or going back to investigate.
"Help... me..."
Another faint plea, this time with a hint of a sob, struck Mel's conscience like a hammer.
Finally, Mel took a deep breath and slowly turned around, heading in the direction of the voice.
Just one look. If something seems off, I’ll leave immediately.
She warned herself, but her footsteps involuntarily quickened.
Deep in the alley, a pinly dressed woman leaned against the wall, covered in bruises, looking utterly miserable.
There was a gruesome wound on the woman’s abdomen, and blood was gushing out continuously, pooling into a dark red puddle on the ground.
"Thank the Red Moon above... someone finally came..."
The woman’s eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as she saw Mel approaching.
She struggled to get up but colpsed again from the intense pain. Lifting her head, she pleaded with Mel:
"Kind miss, please help me... I need to get to a hospital..."
Mel stood still, watching the woman.
Just as she was considering whether to approach, she suddenly noticed a wallet and a blood-stained knife scattered near the woman.
It seemed like she had encountered a robber who had attacked her and fled in a hurry, leaving the weapon behind.
Mel thought for a moment, then stepped forward.
"Are you okay?"
"I... I feel so cold... Thank you for stopping..." the woman said weakly, her voice trembling.
"Do you have anything to stop the bleeding... I... I’m afraid I’ll bleed to death..."
"I’m sorry... I don’t have anything with me." Mel shook her head. At this, the light in the woman’s eyes dimmed slightly.
"It’s... it’s okay... Could you help me up and take me to the hospital... I don’t want to die, please."
The woman reached out to Mel. Mel looked at the blood-stained arm, hesitated for a moment, then gently stepped forward, allowing the woman to lean on her to stand up.
"Thank you..." The woman leaned weakly against Mel, her other hand clutching her wound in pain.
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't know what to do... Could you please help me out of this alley? It would be easier to hail a carriage on the main street..."
"Mm."
Mel nodded gently, then supported the woman as they slowly made their way toward the alley's exit. Her movements were careful, afraid of worsening the woman's injuries.
The alley was quiet, with only the sound of their footsteps and the occasional distant rustle of wind intertwining.
"You're truly a kind angel," the woman spoke haltingly, each word accompanied by a bored breath. "What's your name?"
"Mel. Mel Rossetti."
Mel answered briefly, "You should try to talk less now."
"Sorry..." The woman smiled weakly, "But if I don't speak, I feel like I might fall asleep at any moment. So... please, keep me company with some conversation."
She took a deep breath, "Mel... that's a lovely name. I'm Jessica. Ah, are you from around here? Do you have any family?"
"Yes, I grew up in Dunk City. I have an older sister," Mel nodded softly. "We live together."
"She must love you very much," Jessica said.
"Mm," Mel nodded gently.
"That's nice... I had a younger sister too. If she were still here, she'd probably be around your age," Jessica's voice carried a hint of nostalgia, but it quickly turned to sorrow.
"Unfortunately, she passed away from illness, leaving me alone in this world. Sometimes, I wonder what the point of living alone is."
As Mel listened, a wave of sympathy washed over her, but she soon frowned slightly, feeling an odd discomfort. Her body seemed to grow stiff and heavy, as if bound by invisible ropes.
(What a strange feeling...)
"If it's possible, I'd like to have a sister like you," Jessica suddenly spoke up.
"Could you be my sister, Mel?"