Bernadette stared blankly at the dimly lit tombstone. "Judge Claude Frollo. Rest in Peace."
She didn't quite blame them for not putting more on there. During his last few years on earth, he had made many enemies and betrayed the ones who had trusted him. Still, she wished that someone, anyone would have remembered to write brother and uncle, as a thought to those he had left behind. Bernadette couldn't quite shed a tear for the old man, hated as he was. But she was his only niece; he had been her only uncle. It was her duty to visit him in his afterlife. Frollo had never been the most loving uncle, and it seemed to her that he was always hiding something. Only in the last few weeks had she learned what dark secrets were in his heart and his home. Was it really true, that he had murdered a mother in cold blood, and taken the child? Had he really tried to commit the act twice? Bernadette doubted that he had done all of that. Perhaps he had done a wrong deed and, being holier than thou, had the townsfolk blow it out of proportion? Her thoughts were interrupted by a figure behind her. Holding up her lantern to see who it was, she nearly cried out in terror and shock. "You?!"
The person behind her was someone she recognized from the rumors spread about like wildfire. It was the bell ringer, the child her uncle was rumored to have stolen! Trying to maintain a calm demeanor, she said, "I..I'm sorry. You startled me. Are you..?"
The tall person stared at his feet. "Yes, yes I am. Who are you? "
Returning to her normal demeanor, she simply stated, "Bernadette Fier. And your name is?"
"I'm Quasimodo, bell ringer of Notre Dame. I thought that I would be the only one here."
"I am.. was... his niece. It is my duty to visit his grave. I've heard of you. I thought that you would hate my uncle, after all he's done to you! Why have you come?"
Quasimodo sighed. "I do hate him. But I thought that if I didn't visit, nobody else would."
Bernadette smirked. "I guess you were wrong. It's getting late, and I must be off... but I hope to see you again!"
After Bernadette left, the air around the small grave was unnervingly still. Quasi looked around, making sure that nobody was watching, and placed a wildflower on the gray stone. "Congratulations. You died as you lived, miserable and alone. I guess it really is true, what they say; no one mourns the wicked."
As he left, the wind knocked the flower off of the grave and pinned itself to his leg. Which is odd, because there was no wind that night...