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A little girl sat in the tub of water, her mother washing her golden blonde hair. The woman filled the water with a battered mug, pouring water gently over her daughter’s head.

“Mama,” said the little girl. Her eyes followed the length of her mother’s wrist to a fresh bruise.

“Yes?” Being attentive, her mother asked, “What is it, Eve?”

“You hurt yourself…” the girl’s voice was sweet. No older than eight, she gazed at her mother with her clear blue eyes.

Her mother smiled at her. To the little girl, her mother’s smile brightened the entire room even though it was dimly lit with the few remaining candles they had.

The woman placed her wet hand on the little girl’s head, “It was slippery from the rain. Your mother tripped and got herself a little boo-boo,” the woman assured her daughter, “It is nothing your mother can’t handle. Don’t worry!”

Eve nodded, believing her mother’s words without question, even though she saw a second bruise on her mother’s cheek.

The smile on the woman’s face faltered when her daughter was distracted by the water’s surface. Most of the bruises that she received were covered by her dress, and the long sleeves that she wore outside was enough to cover up to her wrists. But the bruise inflicted on her face was difficult to hide.

Her daughter was growing, and she knew that her child had come to an age where she was easily curious and able to grasp difficult subjects. She did not wish to lie to her daughter, but at the same time, it was hard to explain what she did.

“How was your day, my dearie?” asked the woman, watching her daughter.

“I helped Thomas with his sheep. He let me walk with him and watch them graze,” the little girl replied fondly as if she had enjoyed it very much. She turned to look at her mother before saying, “He was taking their clothes off, mama! He said they would grow it back, but I felt bad because they looked cold. Mama, can we get a sheep one day?”

“Maybe one day,” replied her mother, the look in her eyes gentle. “I hope you didn’t step on his toes.”

The little girl vigorously shook her head.

“That’s good,” said the woman, picking up a jar off the ground.. “Thomas is a generous and kind man.”

Kinder than many who lived in this town thought the woman.

As she bathed her daughter, shimmering blue scales appeared on the little girl’s legs. The little girl’s hand touched the scales that left a dazzling criss-cross pattern. The woman turned the jar’s cap, and added two spoonfuls of white powder into the bathtub, letting it dissolve.

The little girl questioned, “Mama…why doesn’t our soap have bubbles?” Her little eyebrows furrowed. “Mrs. Edison told me we couldn’t afford soap.”

Her mother smiled, “What were you doing talking about soaps? We use something that’s even better than soap. It keeps your skin smooth and silky. Don’t you like being smooth and silky?”

“It does?” Asked the girl with an innocent expression, and her mother nodded.

“It does. Plus, it’s important you use the salts during your baths, until you learn to hide your scales. This will keep you safe. Remember, Genevieve. No one can know about your scales, else it will be big trouble for both of us!”

Shortly after the salt dissipated into the water, the scales on the little girl’s legs disappeared. Her mother came to sit behind her head, pouring water and rinsing her head and body before being brought out of the tub with a towel wrapped around her.

“Mama, will you come with me tomorrow?” A hopeful expression hung on the little girl’s face.

Eve was hugged by her mother, and the little girl was more than happy to hug her back. Eve was still young and missed her mother whenever she had to work, as she was often gone for long hours, not returning till late in the evening. There were some days where her mother was away for the entire night and early in the morning, leaving the little girl all by herself in the small house.

“I am sorry that I haven’t been able to spend much time with you. But I promise that things will get better. Once we have enough money, we can move to a better place. Maybe one with a sheep or two for you to play with,” the woman promised her daughter, “and I will be able to spend more time with you.”

“We’ll be able to play together all the time?” Excitement apparent on the girl’s face at the simple thought. The woman pulled away from her daughter to stare at her sweet face.

In the future, she would get her daughter a tutor who could educate her on etiquette and nobility so that she could become part of higher society. And unlike her, her daughter would be respected and loved! She would definitely accomplish this for her daughter’s sake!

Eve’s mother leaned forward, planting a kiss on her little one’s forehead.

“Yes, all the time, you and me,” chuckled the woman.

Later that night, the woman put her daughter to bed, covering her with the bigger quilt of the two they owned to combat the harsh Winter outside.

She walked towards the bathtub, staring at the surface of the water for a couple of minutes. She dipped her hand into the water, lost in thought before pulling the stopper out and allowing the water to drain.

When morning arrived, the sun’s rays failed to reach the town due to the clouds covering the sky. A certain gloominess filled the air, the chilly breeze making those on the streets pull their coats closer to them as they walked.

In the house where little Eve slept curled in bed, her mother stood in front of the mirror.

She was dressed in clothes that had been borrowed. Then again, most of her clothes were either handed down to her or borrowed from somewhere. Her hair was tied in a subtle yet seductive knot that appealed to her target, and her lips were painted a provocative and bold red.

The bruises had become a little more prominent with this appearance, but she carried herself proudly. When she left the house, closing the door behind her, she could feel the stares leering and judging her.

Rebecca Barlow was not new to people staring at her. And as demeaning and condemning as those gazes were directed at her, she walked with a steady composure. But if one inspected her closely, they would notice her eyes never looked ahead. Downcast, her gaze was trained on her footsteps, but whether this was to ensure she would not trip and fall or to avoid the shame felt from the eyes of others, only she knew…

When she reached the end of the road, a carriage stood waiting for her. The coachman at the carriage door opened it upon seeing her.

Rebecca felt her legs stiffen, but she did not stop walking. Though she had come here, knowing the carriage was waiting for her, she felt trepidation remembering what happened yesterday.

She stoked her courage and climbed inside the carriage with the coachman shutting the door behind her.

A few hours later, little Eve spent her free time on one of the many streets of Brokengroves. She wore a puffy coat that her mother had made for her and an adventurous glint in her eyes.

With her mother away from the house most of the time, the little girl explored the nearby next town Meadow while trying her best to avoid the townsfolk. Though young, she could sense that people did not like her or her mother much.

Her little feet left little footprints on the snowy ground as she watched people shovel away the snow in front of their houses. After turning a corner to a different street, she noticed a crowd not too far ahead of her.

Flutes were being played, filling the place with music, and streams of people headed in that direction.

For a minute, she stood there, watching little bubbles floating in the air, and her eyes widened in curiosity. As if that was not enough to lure her, the smell of hot food being sold at some stalls wafted in the air, and in this frigid weather, the aroma was extra enticing.

Unable to resist, the little girl strolled into the town fair. Excitement and awe filled the atmosphere, with the wide variety of foods and trinkets the stalls offered dazzling the crowd.

The fair was filled with more than just the townsfolk, but people from nearby towns had also traveled here to join in the festivities. Amongst the sea of people undecided on where to go first, a large crowd could be seen in front of each stall.

As a small, lone child, Eve was unable to see the stall beyond the bodies and heads of so many people, even when she stood on the tip of her toes. While she was looking for a better view point, a woman who was walking past her, pushed her, making her stumble backwards.

“What’s a little rat like you doing here, standing in my way?” the woman huffed, before making her way to the front of the stall.

Eve quickly moved back to only be scolded by another couple for bumping into them.

The little girl quickly bowed her head, “I am sorry.”

But the rich did not care for the girl who wore dull clothes.

“I thought they went extinct! How did you get your hands on this?” Questioned a man wearing an expensive looking coat that protected him well from the chilly air. He held a bottle in his hand, looking at the red liquid inside it.

The merchant offered a cunning smile before letting out a chuckle, “I have my ways, which is why the bottle is priced at five hundred gold coins.”

“Five hundred? Aren’t you being a bit greedy? How do I know it’s authentic?” Asked the man, his eyes shifting from the bottle to the shopkeeper. His eyes narrowed, and as he did this, the colour of his eyes turned to red for the briefest moment before reverting back to brown.

“I would never cheat you, Sir. I went out to sea myself. A very rare catch as you know, a delicacy sure to quench your thirst and sate your hunger,” the merchant enticed his wealthy prospect. “I can assure you, once you taste it, every drop will be worth more than its weight in gold.”

Eve was drawn to the strong smell of baked buns that were coated with sweet caramel. She bit her bottom lip and clutched her empty stomach, contemplating how it would taste.

The portion of food that her mother prepared for each of them was fixed, and though her mother made sure to feed her, Eve had never felt satisfied. At the sight of the many delicious and interesting foods in the fair, her stomach roared in rebellion.

She drew closer to the buns, staring at the nearby children and adults devouring them in delight, who could purchase it because they had money.

And she had none.

Seeing that the shopkeeper was busy talking to a wealthy customer, her hand inched towards a bun at the edge of the stall.

But before the little girl could pick up the bun, a hand grabbed ahold of her arm!