Chapter Text

Once Upon a Wrong Timetable

Chapter 1: Tragedy

Mid-June

Evangeline sat by her window, engrossed in yet another novel, with her headphones on. This time, the story was about a girl who, just like the reader, was hopeful to find her true love. Although she hadn’t read much of it yet, the main character’s determination to stop a wedding resonated with Evangeline, as she could see herself doing the same if the groom-to-be was Luc.

“—geline!”

“…”

“Eva—“

Hah? Did someone call my name? She immediately removed her headphones.

“Evangeline!” A loud female voice came from downstairs.

“Yeah?” she responded.

“Evangeline, are you deaf? How many times do I have to call you? Come downstairs right now!”

Oh.

If Evangeline knew anything about her stepmother, it was that she was an impatient woman and the girl better hurry up.

“Coming!” She exclaimed, leaving the book and headphones on her bed and scurrying downstairs.

As Evangeline appeared in the small but cozy living room, Marisol’s mother was already fuming, even though it had only taken the pink-haired girl roughly ten seconds to come downstairs.

Agnes had never treated her like a mother, or even like a friend. But ever since Eva’s father left last month to help organize a worldwide exhibition of various trinkets, her stepmother had completely stopped considering her a full-fledged member of the household.

“Evangeline Fox,” scolded her stepmother, the name sounding more like a curse than something sweet, “I told you to get rid of this garbage, didn’t I?” Her voice filled with disgust and anger as she pointed at the beloved little trinkets left by Evangeline’s mother.

“Yes, Ma’am, you did. But they were dearly treasured by my late mother…” she paused, trying to choose the right words. “Besides, they belong to my father as much as they did to my mother, it would be heartless to get rid of them without his knowledge.”

Agnes scoffed, clearly finding the girl’s words absurd, “So what? Those… trinkets are nothing but a reminder of someone who shouldn’t be influencing him at all. He moved on, why bother keeping something that clearly has no purpose?”

A grimace appeared on the woman’s face as she saw Evangeline defensively holding an old book, “The Ballad of the Archer and the Fox”, the one her mother read hundreds of times before bed when her daughter was little.

“But–”

Agnes lifted her eyebrow, was she really about to argue?

“Did I make it clear?” Agnes did not give Evangeline a chance to continue. “Get rid of them,” each syllable sounding like a bell indicating a death march.

Agnes turned on her heels, leaving the room before Evangeline could respond, “I better not see anything from this display when I return.” This usually meant that Eva had an hour to do her task, while Agnes did her ridiculously expensive skincare.

Once the girl was left alone in the room, her hands automatically reached for the small braid she always kept in her hair when her dad was away, nervously tugging at it.

Dad, please come back sooner.

She closed her eyes, focusing on breathing in and out, trying to stop her tears from falling. The smell of old books, a chimney that had not been lit for so long but still had a faint smell, and pastries that Marisol most likely brought recently. All so familiar, yet so foreign ever since her world began crumbling, with her mother being the first to leave.

The more time passed the more she felt like the room was suffocating her. The once-welcoming dim light now felt like it was ominously whispering “See how dark it is? This is how your life will be.” The walls that once flourished with foxes hand-painted by her mother were now covered by Agnes’s photos and some occasional ones of Marisol. It was not her home anymore, just another thing she lost after her mother’s passing.

She contemplated for a second before deciding to collect her mother’s belongings and bring them upstairs to store safely in her room. She would never have the heart to throw out something that was a clear reminder of someone she loved, and she believed it was extra cruel to do it while her father was away.

Does Agnes even love him? Eva hoped she did but how could the girl believe this when instances like this happened more often in the last few weeks.

As she picked up the book she was holding along with the snow globe that had a little dragon inside, she carefully headed towards the stairs. Carved with both accidental lines and intricate fairytale-like ornaments, Eva ascended the wooden staircase. She walked down the hall, filled with art inspired by various fairy tales and novels, which her stepmother had left untouched for now. Symbolically, her door faced the wall inspired by “The Ballad of the Archer and the Fox”. Eva used to think it was cute, but today it felt like it was yet another reminder of her mother’s absence.

Evangeline’s room greeted her with a small bell ringing, gifted by her father after her first day helping at the shop. The place was full of little decorations that reflected her soft nature, but they were not overwhelming and messy. Each one had a story to tell, if the person entering the room was willing to listen.

Now, her mother’s belongings also found shelter here, alongside CDs, old books, and a collection of various keys that used to open doors of ancient houses that no longer exist. Agnes used to say Evangeline was weird for keeping keys to something she couldn’t open, but Eva couldn’t bear the thought of neglecting someone’s craft that used to guard their home. So, she had keys that were varying from the ones her mother used when she first moved into her own place to the ones that were surely over a hundred years old.

As time went on, she brought more and more things to her shelf – jewelry, figurines, and roses made out of wire and glass. They all reminded Evangeline of her father’s journeys to far away lands to bring a one of a kind gift to his wife.

The little girl used to giggle and say “Mom, your knight returned with gifts!”, while her mother responded with “I know, my dear, I’m sure he brought something for his precious princess as well.”

Evangeline would eagerly sit on her mother’s lap unpacking whatever gifts her father brought. Her favorite part was the stories that came along with it, of how he cunningly tricked the dragon or traveled the seven seas to get them. And these stories made their lives feel a little more magical.

She loved how her parents always romanticized little things, even if it was creating a story of how her mother solved three riddles by a dragon to get her favorite apple pie recipe. The memory of her parents’ love made her chest tighten, it was so difficult to believe there will be happiness in her life again.

Despite her fear and sadness, hope always bloomed somewhere deeper than any fear or sadness could settle. It was illogical, undying, and always in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t help but wish for a love like theirs.

After rearranging her things, Eva heard the doorbell ring. This time, it didn’t sound welcoming or cheery like the one that greeted her to her room. It was urgent, poking at her whole being like needles.

What happened?

She rushed downstairs on her shaking legs to open the door, only to be met by an older man, Joseph. He used to work with her father for years, and occasionally joined the Fox family for dinner. He was always there to pick Evangeline up with hot chocolate and an umbrella if her parents were busy. He was one of the people who made sure she was okay after her mother’s passing, always bringing some books from his own bookstore.

“Good evening, Uncle Jo. Is there anything I can help you with?”

When their eyes met, she immediately felt something cold and painful creep up her spine. His eyes were… empty. There was no glimmer in his eyes nor the smile he wore like his second skin.

“Eva…” a long pause followed, “I’m sorry.”

She tugged at her braid, “What? What do you mean?”

Her eyes searched his face, hoping for an answer she wanted, not what her body and that ominous bell were hinting at.

“Your father…” he swallowed hard, tears forming in his eyes, they used to be so bright. “He passed away. Sudden heart attack during the presentation. The medics tried to help, but… his heart couldn’t fight anymore. I’m so sorry for your loss, Evangeline.”

She shook her head, backing away.

This can’t be happening!

“No… you can’t be serious, please tell me it’s all just a cruel joke!”, nails digging in her own palms.

Her voice was trembling, heart aching so deeply she thought she might pass out right there.

When he shook his head, it dawned on her how real the situation was.

Her knees buckled, unable to keep herself straight, she slid down the wall, tears forming in Evangeline’s gray eyes flickering from the light in the doorway.

“It can’t be, ple–,” her breathing became so rigid she couldn’t speak, her gaze moved aimlessly from one place to another. The more she sobbed, the more she began losing her connection with reality, consciousness coming back in waves.

After what felt like an eternity, her gaze finally focused on the empty shelf in the living room where her mother’s trinkets were just hours ago. Evangeline did not notice when the blanket appeared on her trembling frame or spearmint tea in her hands, comfortingly burning at her fingertips.

She felt so numb she might as well have been dead, comforting words from Jo flew over her head. Even when Agnes and Marisol came in, she still did not hear what they were asking.

5 Days later

Agnes had the heart to let Evangeline stay in her room without doing any chores for a week. She felt such nauseating pain in her heart she feared it might last forever. And maybe it would.

As she was lying buried under blankets, she heard faint buzzing coming from her cellphone, “Luc” in bold appeared on the tiny screen. She sighed, forcing herself out of the safety cocoon to answer the call.

“Hey Luc, what’s up?” she tried to fake some brightness in her voice.

“Hi… Just wanted to check up on you. I heard the news, how are you holding up?”

On another day her heart might have fluttered from the idea that he cares, but now it didn’t bring any comfort.

“Well,” she sighed “probably exactly how you imagine I would.”

She continued, “It’s… not great, but don’t worry, I’m feeling much better than on the day I received the news.” A lie, she did not feel better internally, even if on the outside she could fake a smile for a bit, her personal achievement.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I know it’s not much, but feel free to reach out if you want to talk about anything. Grieving is difficult, I can’t even imagine how you’re holding up after losing so many of your close ones in such a short period of time,” he responded with some regret in his voice as if he were the one to cause this tragedy.

Her expression softened at her cellphone, even if he couldn’t see it. “Thank you, I will if I ever need to. I—… Uh, I will see you in September then?.” For once in her life, she was looking forward to going back to school, it might distract her from the fact that she’s alone now, with no one but Jo to defend her.

“Yeah, I will see you in September, Eva. Please reach out if you ever want anyone to talk to or… be present, alright? Trust me, I care.”

“Thanks, Luc. I’ll keep that in mind.” Silence settled in, after she was sure he wasn’t going to say anything, she hung up.

Okay, that made her heart flutter ever so slightly, even through the immense pain she was in. She felt her cheeks burn.

Eva, calm down, he just said he cares. It wasn't a whole love confession.

But who can blame her for wishing for a sweet happy ending after all of this?

Mid-August

At 6 am, Evangeline was already up, scraping the dirt off the floorboards. No matter how many times she told Agnes it was impossible to remove it, she was still forced to try. Somewhere behind her, she already had water sitting on a stove waiting to be boiled. Ever since her father’s death, all chores went to Evangeline. She felt more like a maid now rather than a stepdaughter.

By late evening, the whole house was shining like new, Eva’s mother’s painting peeking out from behind foreign photo frames. She could swear that sometimes their eyes followed her or whispered something inaudible.

“Evangeline! Get yourself over here,” yelled her stepmother from her bedroom, long engrossed in her ten-step skincare routine.

“On my way!” she responded as quickly as she could, already hurrying upstairs to the biggest bedroom in the house.

Once Eva reached Agnes’s bedroom, the woman began dictating. “I’ve got a few things to tell you, so listen carefully, I won’t repeat myself. You will be transferred to a different school, as it seems you’re influencing Marisol negatively.” She paused, removing cucumber slices from her eyes. “If you don’t get above a B on all subjects, you will be forced out of the house to work, as you’re already eighteen. Any questions on that part?” she inquired with disinterest.

“No, Ma’am.”

“Great, your pocket money will come from selling trinkets your mother owned. As you see… since your father died, I have to finance both of you, which is–” she drawled with more drama than needed, “so difficult, your little head will never understand.”

“But–”

“No buts, dear, we have to save as much as we can.” She pouted as if she wasn’t currently applying a hand cream that was far more expensive than Evangeline’s entire allowance for four months or even more.

“Understood…”

And so she began her school preparations with what little she saved up, refusing to sell any of her mother’s belongings.

Somewhere in an old house by the lake

A young blond boy had his first heartbreak, it was so painful he thought he could die... As he stared at his reflection in the water, he decided to change completely. Dark blue dye first.