Yvaine could barely resist herself from sprinting down the sidewalk.

She was on her way to Oleander's rented apartment, the photocopies of the newspapers tucked safely in her handbag. Amberly had gone ahead of her with various eateries which she believed was an essential part of any discussion, something which could not be missed at all.

But given that the road to the hospital went through the market square which at the evening hours were filled with people browsing in the shops or eating from the food vendors, she decided against it. Because then the news would spread like wildfire that the new librarian was in reality a lunatic. Andrasville after all was a very small town, even if its residents were uncannily quiet and averted themselves from the gossip of any kind.

Yvaine frowned at this thought. She had never seen it this way but walking through the market square that evening, she couldn't help but feel something was very wrong with the townsfolk. The shops were bustling with men, women and children of various ages. Yet none of them spoke with the other or made a noise, not even the children!

Instead, they walked in neat lines behind one another, mechanically browsed through the shelves, paid for them and came out as soon as that was done. A few browsed their phones while standing in the lines. The same could be said about the food stalls.

She shook her head. There was something very strict and school-like about this town. Back in her hometown at around this time, the town would be a carnival of cacophony.

Children would jump and scream, men often got into debates and brawls with each other while the women would gossip without stopping. People would always fight while standing in lines and the food vendors often found it difficult to serve the competing customers.

It was not anything like Andrasville. Even though Yvaine preferred quieter towns than bustling cities, she missed her hometown. Andrasville was too discreet, too disciplined. Maybe that's why her grandfather liked this place so much. He too led a strictly disciplined life.

By the time Yvaine stopped at the entrance to the little yellow apartment, the sky above had turned a shade of deep golden brown. The sun had already disappeared beyond the horizon, whilst the last longer light of the day flitted through the fluffy clouds. She was only about to start for the stairs when suddenly Yvaine remembered that she did not know on which floor was Oleander's apartment.

Luckily for her, a young woman in a short black dress with rainbow coloured hair walked out with a tiny pug on a brown leash. Sighing in relief she advanced towards.

"Um, hello!" Yvaine greeted the girl with a smile. "Can you tell me which apartment has been recently rented out?'

"Oh, hello!" Waved the girl, her hair shining like the morning sun. The pug gave out a little welp and began to lick Yvaine's ankles. "Do you mean the apartment where that tall old man lives? The historian?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"His apartment is on the second floor to the left side. Right beside mine," she said. "Now come on Bobby, it's time to go, my girl." With one last wave, the rainbow-haired girl walked away. Bypassing her, Yvaine started for the staircase. Her heels clicked upon the worn wood as made her way up.

The journey was quite short and in no time Yvaine stood outside the great walnut door with a rusted bronze knocker and a knob. Catching her breath, she knocked twice. Then for one last time, she put her hand within her handbag, feeling the photocopies. Satisfied, she turned to face the door, waiting for someone to open it.

"Come in! The door is open, just turn the knob." The warm baritone of Oleander proclaimed from inside. Doing as she had been instructed Yvaine turned the knob and stepped on the threshold.

The smell of fresh coffee wafted into her nostrils. To her left was seated Oleander and Amberly in red coloured armchairs, with a plate full of meringues, muffins, quiches and a pot brimming to the top with hot coffee with cups were set on the roundtable in front of them. Yvaine's eyes widened as she took in the ambience of Oleander's living room.

Its size was pretty broad for an apartment, slightly less than that of her living room in the chateâu. The walls were painted a soft beige with chocolate brown borders and black floral motifs.

One of the walls had a series of cabinets all filled with books. From essays written in Latin, a copy of the Odyssey written in original Greek and plays of Shakespeare there was not a book that was not in the cabinets. On the opposite wall were a few black and white photos of Oleander in his youth. And in the midst of these two walls were the table and the four armchairs.

"Come here, Miss Agan," Amberly said, pointing to the empty chair beside her. "We were waiting for you."

"I quite literally ran down here," Yvaine chuckled, settling down into the chair. "It's a beautiful place you have got here, Mr Vescott." She complimented.

"Oh, thanks!" Oleander beamed at her words. "I plan on buying it after I sell off my ancestral home near Maine. Andrasville seems like a good place to settle down after retirement."

"Yes, it is a very nice place," Amberly replied. "But what about the rest of your family? Will they want to move to a town this small?"

"I never got married or had children, Miss Wood. You do not want to start a family with my income," Oleander explained. "I have always loved history but never made much of a name in the field. I just go running around to find something that catches my attention. And my parents have gone to heaven long back." He mused, his usually curious eyes watering a little.

"It must be so lonely!"

"It really isn't," Oleander winked at Amberly. "History keeps me on my toes. I travel and travel and discover new stories and dig out old mysteries. That's why I am here in Andrasville, to find out the entire story behind the strange disappearance of Wilhelmina Andras." He said.

"Where did you find out about it?" Yvaine questioned. Of all the queries she had about the elderly historian, this one was the primary.

"In a book called, 'An Account of Crimes and Murders of the 1800s'," he answered. "A very interesting tome. I learnt quite a bit of the case from there but couldn't find any more resources. That's the reason I moved here."

"I guess it's pretty much the only mystery Andrasville has," Amberly shrugged. "But it is pretty strange that how come the townsfolk avoid this subject, especially the ones who have lived here for all their lives. My parents moved to this town seventeen years ago when I was a kid and I remember well that when my mom asked our neighbour about the town's history they had shut up like an oyster immediately.

"I guess it has to do with the ghastly nature of the whole business," Yvaine said. "Maybe they still feel fear regarding it."

"I agree with Miss Agan," Oleander said. "Speaking of which, let us see the photocopies of the newspapers, shall we?"

"Yes, let me bring them out." Saying so, Yvaine reached for her handbag and pulled out the bundle of photocopies and put it down on the table.

"There are so many of them..." Amberly groaned audibly. "How are we supposed to get through them all in one day?"

"We divide them," Oleander proposed. "In this way, it will be much easier to read through them all. If any of us find anything relevant to the disappearance, we alert the others." Amberly and Yvaine nodded in acquiescence.

The three of them picked up one of the photocopies and began to read. Amberly took a meringue and read chewing on it subsequently. Oleander poured himself a generous cup of coffee and sipped from it at intervals. Yvaine leaned upon the armchair and relaxed herself into reading. But no sooner did her eyes fall on the picture printed on the very first page of her photocopy, her mouth hung open in shock and realisation.

It was a black and white picture of a girl with long, wavy hair and locks that hung down from the top of her forehead. She had a face like a rose petal with sharp high cheekbones, a straight nose and a chiselled chin. She had wide plum lips and dimples upon her cheeks. It was a face Yvaine had seen before, just a day before.

The girl exactly resembled the entity Yvaine had encountered in the chateâu.