But Ricky was not a child who could afford to be merely fine. Enough tutors had been dismissed for not understanding that to fill this hill and then some.

‘I said that more than two mistakes means no going out.’

The waiting maid handed me a well-trimmed switch. Nearly eleven years old, and Ricky trembled at the sight of it, then turned the door handle. The frailty of a child who went pale just from a few strokes on the calves broke my heart.

‘Ricky!’

Ricky couldn’t overcome his fear and bolted out the door. He had told me that instead of pulling Cincy’s hair, bringing her a ribbon to tie her hair with would make her happy, and they had made a promise that if his mathematics marks were acceptable, they’d go to the shops together to buy one. But Ricky had let his weak heart win.

‘Bring him back.’

I let the switch drop limply to the floor and pressed my palm against my throbbing head.

The maid and tutor rushed out of the parlor as though they’d been waiting for the signal. The red velvet door they went through swung open and didn’t close. I kept staring at that gap, then slowly steadied myself against the window.

Enrolling in boarding school at the youngest age possible was the only way the Milo family wouldn’t look down on Ricky. The only way the world wouldn’t look down on him. Yet Ricky was growing up like the fragile daisies of Port Mary.

My chest was seething when I heard the sound of rain. Rain began to pour from the sky as though it had been waiting. I watched the procession of countless drops striking the window, then gathered my long skirt and opened the parlor door. I stopped a maid passing through the corridor.

‘Where’s Ricky?’

‘Isn’t he inside, my lady?’

The maid’s expression said she was hearing this for the first time, and the moment I saw it, something cold and sharp cut through my chest.

The premonition proved right. The moment I stepped into the corridor, I could see through the hallway window the tutor’s back as he ran helplessly down the hill. Watching him run in search of Ricky, who had vanished below the slope, I felt a wave of dizziness.

Why on earth. These were things I had wanted but couldn’t have. Things I had wanted to learn but couldn’t. I could teach him everything, give him everything, make sure he’d never shrink before this stormy world.

I had given him every opportunity, brought him into the world wealthy and well-born, yet in his refusal to work and his desire to roam outside carelessly, I saw his father. Something rose up inside me. I retched, but nothing came. Only a worse headache.

* * *

Doosi remembered this incident too. The tutor had gone after him and come back empty-handed, so she and Paul had gone searching in the rain, soaked not by the clouds but by the lady’s silent tears. Fortunately, the ordeal ended after an hour of searching. Ricky was found in front of Mr. Restin’s stable.

Young master Razy and Mr. Restin’s daughter were sheltering from the rain under the stable roof. Mr. Restin’s daughter, who had lent him her shoulder while he sniffled, pressed her index finger to her lips the moment she saw them.

‘Keep it a secret that you found him here. I don’t want to get dragged into any more trouble.’

She said it was the price for lending the stable roof to a lost young master. Doosi smiled softly, picturing the bold little girl.

* * *

April 12th

Ricky was caught and brought back quickly by the stable hand Paul, but after the runaway incident, he stopped trying to meet my eyes.

He no longer hid behind me as he used to, and even on the occasional trip to church, he simply sat still in a corner seat. Only when Cincy appeared did he sometimes lift his head. But Cincy seemed uninterested in Ricky and moved through the church with her own friends before leaving.

Ricky went quiet, as though Cincy’s indifference had wounded him.

‘Why not have young master Milo take part in the Easter play?’

The pastor was concerned about Ricky growing more and more withdrawn, but I had no intention of letting my son mix with the children of Port Mary.

I politely declined, and the pastor looked disappointed, then asked whether a few of the children might be allowed to come by and deliver Easter eggs to the house.

‘Of course.’

Ricky, who had been standing nearby listening to the exchange, cast a sideways glance at Cincy and then returned to the villa like a cow being dragged to sl*ughter. He said nothing during the carriage ride up the hill, but his feet wouldn’t stay still. He kept kicking the seat, and the steady knock, knock, knock of it never stopped the whole way.

‘Razy Milo.’

When words didn’t stop him, I grabbed his cheek firmly.

‘Sit still.’

‘No.’

It was Ricky’s first act of defiance, his eyes sharp and fierce. He bared his teeth and shoved my hand away.

‘Fine.’

I pressed down the anger in my chest and sat up straight.

‘If you dislike me so much, shall I send you to your father tomorrow?’

It was an old threat, but it had never failed. The man of the Milo family who was too busy cycling through women to spare a thought for his son or wife was the last person Ricky ever wanted to be near. Yet even this threat didn’t reach him, and he kicked the seat hard.

‘I wanted to be in the play.’

‘And this is the ill-bred behavior you resort to over something so trivial?’

‘I’m stupid, that’s why. So she doesn’t even come to say hello.’

Ricky’s expression turned fierce, then he fixed me with a look of disappointment and let it fall away. From that day on, Ricky, who had once chattered like a little bird, stopped speaking to me.

I had never been taught by my parents what to do in moments like this. And I had never been taught what to do with a sulking son. Not knowing, the only thing I could do was put my weight behind what I believed to be the right path.

Ricky stopped studying as hard as before. He kept staring outside, and more often than not, they couldn’t get through even half the material they were supposed to cover.

Suffocating.

* * *

April 17th

A basket of raspberry jam and boiled eggs in hand, the young girls of Port Mary came to visit the villa.

I had known from the pastor’s advance notice, but among them, the one who caught my eye was Cincy with angel wings attached to her back. Unmistakably the most striking among her peers, she lifted her flushed cheeks and held out the egg basket to me.

‘I boiled these all night. Please enjoy them, my lady.’

The child saying this looked more mature and well-mannered than before. Better than you’d expect from a girl in a country backwater, but still.

The noise in the parlor brought Ricky downstairs from his studies. Coming down with ink carelessly smeared on his cheek, he was making his way down just fine until he stopped dead on the stairs.

The girls with their baskets lifted their skirts and greeted Ricky politely, but Ricky’s face went furious and he charged toward them. More precisely, he charged at Cincy Restin.

‘Get out of here right now!’

I was genuinely taken aback. It was the first time I had seen Ricky express such fierce emotion after days of complete silence.

Ricky grabbed Cincy and dragged her out the door. His furious charge sent the other girls scrambling out of the villa in a panic.

Ricky shut the door firmly behind him, then came running back to me and shouted as though he had done something wrong.

‘Never let her in again!’

Then he ran off and slipped out through the back door. I knew he was fond of the large tree at the bottom of the hill. The maid who had been watching the scene worried that something serious had happened in the young master’s heart, but I thought this Ricky, exploding with feeling, was better than the Ricky who stayed silent.

I felt I had found the thread. I asked for a cup of tea and stood at the window where the tree was clearly visible. Sipping the tea the maid quickly brewed, I looked down from the window. The little girl with angel wings ran toward the tree.

Just as I expected, Ricky was under the tree, and the moment he spotted Cincy, his face went red and he erupted in anger. For me, worried that he couldn’t open his mouth around peers, Cincy Restin had brought an answer of sorts. I could use this.

I quietly came down the stairs and opened the back door Ricky had run out of. Walking slowly through the ankle-high brush, I finally caught the sound of the two children bickering.

‘I told you not to do that. That’s why you don’t have a single friend.’

My son couldn’t get out a single word in response to Cincy’s rather bold remark and only glared at her, seething. His hand rose as though he was about to hit her, and I nearly lunged forward without thinking, but Cincy’s hand reached Ricky’s cheek first. That small hand was wiping the ink off Ricky’s cheek.