After closing the door behind him, Jeffrey let out a long, weary sigh.

If he told Cosette that she would have to give up the room she had spent so much time personalizing, she would undoubtedly throw a tantrum.

The thought of how hard it would be to calm her down was enough to give him a headache.

The reason he had never told Winter about Karen and Cosette was simple.

He had never expected her to return home any time soon.

“Haah…”

His mind had been preoccupied with other concerns.

It had never even crossed his mind that his daughter might have come back for a reason.

Even after his footsteps faded down the stairs, Winter wandered around the room for a long time.

She felt like an unwelcome guest in someone else’s home.

The place she had always believed she could return to no longer felt like hers.

It was as though the home she had cherished had disappeared without a trace.

Later, lying on the unfamiliar bed, Winter tossed and turned for hours, unable to sleep.

Outside, the wind howled through the night, rattling the window frame mercilessly.

Despite being wrapped tightly in blankets, she couldn’t shake the cold that had settled deep in her chest.

It was a lonely night.

A night when her weary heart could find no comfort or rest.

***

Two days later, Winter left the house again.

It was after breakfast — a meal punctuated by the occasional remark and long periods of awkward silence.

The night before, she had overheard a conversation by chance.

“Uncle, how much longer do I have to stay out of my room? It’s really inconvenient.”

“I’m sorry, Cosette. Just be patient for a little while longer. I’ll casually bring it up with Winter tomorrow.”

“Then let me have my room back from tomorrow onwards. All my things are in there.”

“All right, all right. I’ll take care of it. Winter’s leaving soon anyway. She can’t stay away from her atelier for long.”

After hearing those words, Winter quietly went upstairs to pack her things.

The truth was impossible to deny.

There was no longer a place for her in that house.

When she told her father she was leaving, he tried to appear calm.

However, the relief that flashed across his face was impossible to miss.

He naturally assumed that she was returning to Vartz.

Winter never corrected him.

She never told him where she was truly going.

It was only after she arrived at the windswept train station that she made her decision.

A firm, unwavering resolve settled deep within her heart.

Fortunately, Winter still had the money she had earned from selling her artwork at exhibitions.

Finding a small place to rent would not be difficult.

If someone had asked her whether she was confident that she could raise a child on her own, she wouldn’t have known how to answer.

And yet, somehow, she felt that she could.

Perhaps with her child by her side, she would find the strength to keep moving forward.

Above all, the realization that she was no longer completely alone brought her a quiet sense of comfort.

As these thoughts filled her mind, the train carrying her weary body raced steadily along the tracks.

Its destination was Santero— the second-largest city in Kartan and a vibrant port city by the sea.

***

Winter stared out of the window, watching the familiar landscape gradually recede into the distance.

Even if she went back to Vartz, it would take time to rebuild her life there.

The same would be true wherever she chose to go.

Things were no longer as they had been when she first dreamed of becoming a painter and attending the Royal Academy of Arts.

Nevertheless, she had survived and found her place in the capital, a city where she hadn’t known a single soul.

Surely she could do the same somewhere else?

Lost in her thoughts, Winter suddenly turned her head.

Something had gently tugged at the hem of her skirt.

The moment her eyes met a pair of wide, curious ones, an embarrassed voice spoke up from beside her.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry. Lily, you mustn’t do that.”

A young woman around Winter’s age gently soothed the child in her arms before apologizing again.

“She’s been fussy. I hope she isn’t bothering you. Shh, Lily. Be a good girl.”

There was an obvious note of embarrassment in her voice.

Only then did she properly look at the passenger sitting next to her.

She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed the child fussing.

Seeing the woman nervously watching the reactions of those around her, Winter spoke to her gently.

“It’s all right. Is her name Lily?”

“Yes. She’s three years old.”

Relieved by the warm response, the woman smiled faintly.

Without thinking, she placed a hand on her stomach as she admired the child’s plump cheeks and tiny fingers.

For some reason, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship with the young mother.

Reaching into her bag, she took out a thick sketchbook.

“Lily, do you know what this is? This red flower is a rose. Isn’t it pretty?”

Lily was drawn to the colorful illustrations and gradually warmed to Winter.

Over the following days and nights of travel, Winter naturally found out more about the child’s mother, too.

Clara was twenty-two years old — the same age as Winter.

Like Winter, she was also heading to Santero, the final stop on the train’s route.

“My mother lives in Santero. I grew up there as well, although it’ll be my first time returning in several years.”

As though there were circumstances she couldn’t talk about, Clara’s expression darkened for a brief moment.

Winter simply nodded without pressing further.

“I’ve never been there before either, but that’s where I’m headed.”

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that. If there’s ever anything I can help you with, please don’t hesitate to ask. You’ve been helping me all this time, and I feel like I’ve done nothing but rely on your kindness.”

Holding her sleeping daughter in her arms, Clara spoke in a soft whisper.

She was clearly grateful to Winter for looking after Lily whenever she needed to go to the toilet or step away for a few minutes.

Meeting Winter felt like finding a friend her own age in the most unexpected place.

Winter found herself smiling faintly.

In truth, she was the one who felt fortunate.

It was far better than being left alone with her thoughts.

***

The day on which they were due to reach their destination finally arrived.

Large snowflakes had been falling outside the window since the early hours of the morning.

The wind, which had begun during the night, had intensified into a fierce blizzard.

Winter felt uneasy as she gazed out at the storm.

Beyond the glass, the world had vanished beneath a swirling curtain of white.

In weather this severe, there was a strong possibility that the train would be forced to stop at the next station.

Winter quietly began calculating how much time the delay might cost them.

‘If the snowfall gets any worse, we could be stranded for days…’

The day on which they were due to reach their destination had finally arrived.

Large snowflakes had been falling outside since early morning.

The wind, which had started during the night, had intensified into a fierce blizzard.

Winter felt uneasy as she gazed out at the storm.

Beyond the glass, the world had vanished beneath a swirling curtain of white.

In weather this severe, there was a strong possibility that the train would be forced to stop at the next station.

Winter quietly began calculating how much time the delay might cost them.

“Aah!”

“What’s happening?!”

The train began to sway violently from side to side.

Winter immediately tightened her grip on the handrail.

‘No…’

The next instant, the train was hit by a deafening crash.

The impact was overwhelming.

Luggage tumbled from the overhead racks and Winter’s body was thrown sideways involuntarily.

The massive steel train instantly lost its balance.

Then it overturned.

Swept away by the crushing pressure, Winter was tossed about helplessly.

Holding Lily tightly against her chest, she desperately tried to grab onto anything within reach.

It wasn’t enough.

Bang.

Her head hit something solid with a thud.

Through her blurred vision, the train carriage appeared to be in complete chaos.

Screams mingled with the sound of breaking glass.

The overturned carriage looked almost unreal.

She tried to move her arms.

She tried to lift her head.

Her body refused to respond.

One by one, the crashing sounds around her began to fade.

Despite the relentless ringing in her ears, Lily’s desperate cries remained painfully clear.

‘It’s okay…’

‘It’s okay.’

‘Don’t cry, Lily…’

Her lips moved.

No sound came out.

She wanted to wrap her arms around her stomach.

She wanted to protect the child growing inside her.

But she couldn’t move a single finger.

“Please… save me.”

Her trembling eyelids fluttered weakly before finally falling shut.

And then—darkness.

***

In a world buried beneath endless white, the train racing toward the next station overturned in an instant.

When everything was over, only a massive steel wreck remained motionless upon the silent snowfield.

***

Conversations flowed around the table, which was crowded with half-empty wine glasses, but lacked a unifying topic.

Eden observed the lively exchanges with little interest.

Surrounding him were people whose names alone carried influence and prestige. Each person was eager to strengthen connections and make a favorable impression on the others.

His own indifference stood in sharp contrast to their enthusiasm.

Despite his distracted and brief responses, they continued trying to draw him into the discussion.

When one group invited him to join a card game, he declined with a slight wave of his hand, glancing at the watch concealed beneath his cuff.

He had stayed long enough.

Just as he reached to push back his chair and leave, a familiar name caught his attention.

“Speaking of that exhibition by the new artists the other day… do you know a painter named Winter Wood?”

At the unexpected mention of the woman he had deliberately forced to the back of his mind, Eden turned his head.

The voice had come from a group seated diagonally across from him.

“Ah, isn’t she one of Ellen Haven’s painters?”

“Is she? I didn’t know that much. I only saw her for the first time at the exhibition. Honestly, she’s far too beautiful to spend her life hidden away in a studio.”

The moment someone remarked that she was an unusually striking beauty, the others immediately joined in.

“Who are you talking about?”

“You know exactly who. The young lady Anton kept finding excuses to visit under the pretense of admiring her paintings. Though what was the point? She left the studio. From what I heard, she left Vartz too.”

“What?”

The man who had started the conversation looked genuinely surprised.

The person beside him laughed and casually draped an arm over his shoulder.

“Your information network is terrible. You’ll have to try harder.”

“Forget that. Where did she go? She’s not coming back to Vartz, is she?”

“How would I know? If you’re that curious, ask Anton when he gets here. From the look of it, he kept visiting the studio even afterward.”

The conversation continued amid laughter and idle gossip.

But Eden no longer heard the rest.

Only one phrase lingered in his mind.

‘She left Vartz.’