Two days had passed since the festival, but the warmth of the celebration had begun to cool. The streets of Elmsworth carried the quiet hum just the way Hana likes it, as for Ethan, the day began like any other.
Ethan arrived at the depot just before sunrise, same as always. He tucked his hands into his coat pockets, exhaled a quiet yawn, and nodded to Joel as he passed him at the loading bay.
"Morning," Joel said, not quite looking up from his clipboard.
Ethan noticed the usual ease between them was a bit silence. But Joel was always buried in paperwork first thing in the morning, so he shook it off. By midday, Ethan had nearly finished his assigned rounds when Marian approached him and another worker, a broad-shouldered man named Dawson.
She gave them both a bright smile. "Hey—could I trouble you boys to help me with something this evening? Just a bit of lifting. I had a delivery of crates arrive at my cottage, and I can't manage them alone."
Dawson looked hesitant. "Can't—got supper with my folks. Sorry."
Ethan, tired but too polite to decline, rubbed the back of his neck. "I can lend a hand for a little while."
"Great," Marian said, pressing a small folded note into his hand. "That's the address. Come by after you've changed out of those dusty clothes."
Later that afternoon, Ethan passed by Hana's shop as usual. The bell above the door chimed gently.
Hana looked up from the counter, the scent of lemon balm lingering in the air. "Back already?"
"Just heading home to changing clothes," he said, wiping his brow. "One of the new workers needed help with some crates."
"New worker?" Mira's voice called from behind the shelves. She emerged holding a small woven bag, a brow raised.
"Marian," Ethan replied. "She just started a few days ago."
Hana tilted her head. "You sound exhausted."
"I am. Didn't sleep well. Long week, I'm tired of being awake at this point." He chuckled at the end
Hana reached behind the counter and handed him a small cloth-wrapped pouch. "Smell this on your walk. Lemon and thyme. Might help keep you alert until you're done."
Ethan smiled. "Thanks. I won't be long there."
Hana smiled and waved Ethan goodbye.
He then left the shop and headed home briefly to change out of his dusty work clothes before making his way toward Marian's cottage, unaware of how quickly things were about to unravel.
Marian greeted him at the door in a casual, loose-fitting blouse and a skirt that swayed softly when she walked. Her cottage smelled faintly of rosewater and freshly-cut herbs. Several wooden crates sat stacked outside the entrance on the right side of her door.
"Just these," she said, laughing lightly. "Shouldn't take long."
Ethan rolled up his sleeves and got to work, shifting the crates with careful effort.
"You make it look easy," Marian commented, her eyes following his movements. "You must be the strongest man on the crew."
Ethan chuckled, slightly awkward. "I doubt that."
"No, really," she said, stepping closer, voice soft and warm. "It's rare to find someone who works hard and still has time to be kind. It's a... rare quality."
He gave a polite nod and returned to the task.
"I imagine you get a lot of attention," Marian continued, her tone teasing. "You've got that... steady look in your eye. Like someone women can trust."
Ethan blinked, half-turning to her. "I'm just here to help, that's all."
Marian smiled knowingly. "Humility suits you. But don't sell yourself short, Ethan. It's hard not to notice a good man when he's right in front of you."
Ethan's cheeks flushed slightly. "You're very kind."
The sun had begun to set outside, light streaking amber across the small kitchen table.
"That's the last of them," Ethan said, placing the final crate near the back door. He exhaled heavily and looked at the time. "I should be off. Got some business to finish."
Marian raised her hands gently. "Before you go, let me at least offer you something. Tea? Just a little thank you."
Ethan hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure. I would appreciate that."
She poured it from a narrow ceramic pot, fragrant and warm. "Special blend," she said softly, pushing the cup into his hands.
They sat at the small table. Ethan sipped slowly, the room softening at the edges.
"You know," Marian said after a quiet moment, "people in this town don't always notice the right things. But I notice you. The way you carry yourself."
Ethan smiled faintly, tired. "That so?"
"Mhm. You deserve someone who sees that."
Ethan finished the tea and rubbed his temples. "I really should go. It's about that time."
Marian placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You look exhausted, Ethan. Just... rest a moment. Close your eyes. Ten minutes. That's all."
His head felt heavy. His body slumped slightly. "Alright. Just a moment."
Before long, his eyes closed. His breath slowed.
People had seen Ethan arrive at Marian's house the evening before. Dawson had mentioned it in passing to the butcher. Someone else saw Marian standing and talking to Ethan at her door. But no one seemed to see Ethan leave.
The next Day.
Inside Marian's cottage, Ethan stirred, groggy and disoriented. He was slumped on the couch. His coat was off. His shirt slightly unbuttoned. The world swam around him, and his head throbbed.
"Morning," Marian said softly.
She was sitting beside him, barefoot and dressed in a thin white nightgown. Her hair was down, and her head rested gently against his shoulder.
Ethan jolted upright then froze.
"What the" his breath caught in his throat. "What happened?"
"You were tired," she said, eyes wide and lips trembling. "You said you needed to rest…"
"I don't know what happened," Ethan said, voice shaking.
"You were safe," she murmured. "Don't worry."
He stared at her, panic blooming fast.
Grabbing his coat, he stumbled to the door and into the blinding morning. As he passed down the narrow lane toward the village, his stomach twisted tighter. People saw him. A few paused in conversation to glance his way.
He could see it. Hear it. The silence was thicker than any noise.
Ethan didn't go to work that day. He couldn't. He sat near the brook behind his lodging for hours, trying to piece together what had happened. The shame and confusion clouded everything.
By the time he stood outside Hana's shop, the damage had already been done.
The bell above Hana's door rang, and Mira stood quickly from her seat.
Hana turned from the shelves. "Ethan?"
He stepped inside. His face was pale, his hands still trembling.
But before he could speak, he saw the tear tracks on Hana's cheeks.
"Tell me it's not true," she said quietly.
"Hana, I swear nothing happened. I helped her move crates. She offered tea. I rested. That's all. I don't know what she told people, but it's not true."
"You slept at her house," Mira said slowly, arms crossed. "You didn't think that might look a certain way?"
"I didn't mean to stay. I just... I was tired. It got out of hand."
"Do you even know what they're saying?" Mira's voice trembled. "They're not just whispering. They're convinced you spent the night with her. That you led her on."
"I didn't! I swear on everything, Mira. I never touched her. I never even wanted to."
Hana let out a breath that cracked halfway through. Then suddenly, out of the raw pain in her chest, she yelled once sharp and desperate.
"Why, Ethan? Why would you go there in the first place?"
The room fell silent, heavy and brittle.
Hana lowered her head into her hands, shaking.
"Hana... please."
"Just go," she whispered. "Please. I can't... I need space."
Ethan's throat tightened. "You don't believe me."
Mira stepped between them. "Right now, we don't know what to believe. And that's the problem. Give her space, Ethan. If there's any truth in your heart, let it wait."
He nodded slowly, his eyes glassed with regret. The door closed behind him And left to go home.
On the back porch of a quiet home, Jonas leaned against the railing, the sun behind him as Marian approached.
"You did well," he said, not even looking at her.
She smiled faintly. "It was easier than I thought. He didn't even notice. Just drank the tea and drifted off."
Jonas chuckled, low and satisfied. "Now all that's left is time."
Marian added, "I told Joel this morning that Ethan might be a little too... familiar with some of the women here. Just in passing. Nothing big."
"Perfect," Jonas said. "Just the right amount of poison."
Marian stared at the trees swaying in the distance. A pit settled in her stomach. She thought of the look on Ethan's face that morning, the confusion, the hurt.
She didn't like it.
But it was her job.
So she said nothing.
And the village kept whispering.