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Jane looked up from her diary, hearing a knock at her bedroom door. "Come in," she sighed, shoving the diary under her pillow.
Her father entered, and she steeled herself for what was certainly to come. After she'd called off the engagement, it wouldn't be easy facing her parents' reactions.
"This is about the wedding, isn't it?" she asked, looking downwards.
Her father sat down in a chair at the foot of her bed. "It must have been difficult for you," he said. "But I just want you to know that your mother and I aren't upset."
"Thank you," she answered in the dignified manner she'd been taught to.
"We've always trusted you to make the right decision for yourself," he said. "I know Francis has been your dear friend for many years, and I admire his courage and intellect. But his status remains, and to be honest, I was worried he wouldn't be able to provide for you, as well as how such a marriage would affect your reputation in town. As you know, there are responsibilities that come with being an Olsen, and you handled them wisely."
"Thank you," she repeated, a swanlike nod disguising her frustration. Why did everyone pretend she had a choice in anything? Even if she did choose Francis, her parents would still be disappointed. And did they really think she cared that much about status?
"I just think..." Why couldn't she say it? How hard could it be to tell her own well-meaning father how she really felt?
"Yes?"
"...That I would like to do what's best for our family," she finished. "As close as Francis is to me, I could only marry someone whose social standing will uphold the dignity of our name." Her stomach twisted saying it, but she wasn't prepared to face the consequences of what might happen if she answered truthfully.
"As noble a sentiment that is, you also must find someone you love. I hope I don't come across as imposing; I will be proud of you no matter who you choose."
I doubt it, she thought. How would he react to knowing she didn't want to choose at all? Maybe she could sometime in the future, but for now, she hardly considered herself ready for marriage, even after all the preparation she had been put through.
He stood up. "Try to get some sleep, all right? You seem tired lately. After what happened with that horrible creature, I know it must be hard for you, but you still need to try."
She bristled, but feigned a yawn. "You're right," she answered. "Good night, Father."
"Good night. And Jane?"
"Yes?"
"Close your windows. It's not safe to leave them open."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I will."
"I love you. Good night."
"Love you, too."
She watched him leave, then listened as his footsteps faded away. As soon as she could no longer hear them, she locked her door, then leaned out of the window. "You can come in now!" she called. "He's gone!"
Silence followed as she looked around, searching for the glint of a familiar pair of eyes. When she couldn't see them, she turned back to her room, wondering if she'd have to settle for being left alone with her thoughts. She was about to close the window, when she heard the sound of heavy breathing in her ear.
"There you are!" she gasped, turning to see Cesare's blank stare right behind her. "I thought you'd left. Come in!"
He climbed in through the window, sitting down on the floor.
"You're going to have to be quiet, okay? We can't wake anyone up."
He nodded.
"Thanks for coming. Things haven't gotten much better for me, even though I thought they would. I just can't get myself to tell my father I don't want to marry right now, and now he thinks I turned down Francis because he doesn't have a lot of money, when that's not true; I just thought he deserved better than- well, someone who doesn't feel the same way as him. But now my father is proud of me because he thinks I'm as status-obsessed as he is, and I can't just tell him the truth! I feel awful; why does everything get worse whenever I try to stand up for myself?"
Cesare blinked. "What is... money?"
"What? Oh. Money is something you can buy things with. My family has a lot of it, so they want me to marry someone else who has a lot, too. I don't really care about that, but-"
"Can... you.. eat... it?"
"No. But you can exchange it for food, and other things too. But what infuriates me is they keep saying I have a choice, but I tried to make a choice, and they were disappointed in me-"
"I... pick apples. And... sometimes eat... spiders. Can you get... spiders... with money?"
"Cesare, please focus."
Cesare immediately straightened, eyes trained on her with an expectant gaze.
"It's okay; you don't have to- well, you're the only one who could possibly know how I feel. Every time I try to fix things, it never goes well, and there's so much pressure on me... I don't know what you could possibly tell me, but I don't know what to do. I guess I'm just that desperate."
Cesare muttered something under his breath, then clamped his hands over his mouth.
"I'm sorry?" Jane said.
Cesare repeated it, softer this time, with his legs pulled inward.
"I don't- I don't know what you're saying."
He shook his head and stood up, swaying on his toes. He clawed at the air in front of him, then leapt, landing gracefully on one foot. Dropping suddenly to the floor, he crept towards the window, then leaned backwards out of it before pulling himself up again.
Jane shook her head. "I don't understand,” she said. "What do you-" she gasped. "Oh. Do you mean..."
"Es...cape," he whispered, his voice high and tense. "You are... in big box... but still... box."
She smiled sadly. "I knew you’d get it. I'd like to- I would, more than anything- but I can't. I have my family here, and I can't leave Francis behind, not after... I have responsibilities here. Something will work out eventually; I'll be fine."
Cesare blinked. How was he supposed to describe how it felt to her, with the few words that he had? Escaping wasn't easy, but it had made him someone, and he wasn't sure how to express what that was like, any more than he could explain how it felt to really look at the stars, or feeling soft grass underfoot, or the taste of an apple.
"I must say," Jane said, "as difficult as things are... it's a lot easier with you here. It's... nice to know someone cares about what I have to say, even if you're, well, not what I was expecting at first. And- it's strange, but I feel comfortable talking to you. I used to be terrified of you- but I know who you are now. I can't believe for the longest time, I wanted... it doesn't matter anymore. I'm glad you came back, and I'm glad you're-" A knock on the door made them both startle.
"Go!" Jane whispered. "You can come back later, just not until I let you know it's safe."
The knock sounded again. "Jane?" her father's voice called. "Is everything all right? Is someone there with you?"
"Go," she mouthed again, as Cesare scrambled for the window. "Coming!" she called.
Keeping his footing, Cesare slipped out the window, pressing himself against the side of the house. He held his breath, trying to listen as well as he could.
"I'm fine, thank you," he heard Jane say. "It's getting late; I'm just tired..."
"Who were you talking to?" her father asked.
"Talking to- I wasn't talking to anyone. Just myself, because I... I'm trying to decide what to do... you know, about the- well, what we were talking about earlier..."
Cesare easily recognized the fear in her voice. He edged closer, trying his best to peer through the window without being spotted. From here, he could see Jane, as well as a man, who, to his horror, was touching her hair. Should he interfere? He was told not to, but what if...?
"You really must try to sleep," her father said. "Have you been thinking about that night again?"
"It's not that-"
Her father looked towards the window and sighed. Cesare ducked out of sight, chest pounding as he flattened as much as he could against the wall.
"What did I tell you about leaving the window open? I almost lost you once; I don't want to lose you again."
"I'm sorry; it was just a bit too hot in here-"
He started towards the window, when he looked down. "Footprints," he gasped. "Jane, has anyone else been up here?"
"No! I mean- I was just out in town yesterday; I must have just... I mean, I wouldn't have tracked dirt in my room, of course- I was just..." she gave up trying to fumble for an explanation, and looked down, sighing.
"Stay close to me," he responded, stepping in front of her. Cesare tried craning his neck around to get a better look at what was going on. What was he supposed to do? Was this like... like...?
"If there's an intruder here, show yourself at once!" her father shouted. Cesare gripped the side of the wall, trembling.
"If- if anyone's here... please leave," Jane called behind him.
"No," her father said. "We need to catch whoever it is; I don't want anyone who poses a threat to you stalking around town at night. Get dressed and come with me to the police station; we need to organize a search party."
"I don't think it's-"
"Jane."
"Okay; just let me- close the window," she said. She reached for it, looking outside. The town was quiet, but if her father announced she was in danger, even to the typically ineffective police, all hell would break loose.
"Be safe," she whispered into the night.