"I never thought I would escape those wolves!" Maurice exclaimed, panting as he stumbled over a rock into Molyneaux, "Good thing I'm a rather good runner." He sighed. No more invention, though. Now he would never be a success. Oh well, at least he was back home – albeit after three days of on and off camping in the woods trying to find his way back. He'd gotten incredibly lost on the way to the fair, and after escaping from several wolves and having to leave the invention behind, he had decided to forget the fair and just head back to town. And that's where he was now.
He walked up to his house and opened the door.
"Belle!" he called. He looked around the house, scratching his head. Belle wasn't inside. Then again, Maurice reminded himself, there wasn't anything terribly strange about that. She was probably at the bookshop.
He changed out of his dirty, dusty clothes and walked down the road towards the bookshop. He strolled by the three side-by-side houses where Dominique, Anne, and Chanal lived. They were teenage girls, about Belle's age, but she didn't seem to be friends with them. Chanal was standing outside her house, sweeping the ground with a broom. Chanal was the oldest of the three girls, and the tallest as well – a girl with smoky dark skin and curly black hair.
"Good morning, Chanal," Maurice said happily. She seemed taken aback by his presence, and stepped back a moment.
"G-good morning, Maurice," she stammered. Looking at him, her eyes widened. How had he not heard about D'Arque committing Belle? She didn't plan on being the one to tell him, she was sure of THAT.
"Have you seen Belle?" he continued, raising an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic nervousness.
"N-no, M-m-maurice… Haven't seen her for a while, actually. You might want to ask Gaston. Last I saw, she was with him." Good, that worked, Chanal thought. And it was half-true… Belle WAS with Gaston the last time she saw her. Ugh. What did Gaston want with that girl, ANYWAY? Didn't he realize he could have any girl in town? Like me.
"All right," Maurice replied, a little disheartened. He wasn't all that eager to talk with Gaston. He was the most popular man in town, of course, but Belle didn't seem to like him, and she was a very good judge of character. Therefore, the prospect made Maurice uneasy. But Chanal's words resonated in his ears – "haven't seen her for a while". That was unlike Belle. If she hadn't been seen by anyone for a while, then something strange was going on. And so, Maurice would go and talk with Gaston. And there was one place where everyone could always find Gaston – the tavern. "Thank you, Chanal."
"Have a good day," Chanal said flatly. Watching him walk off to the tavern, she recommenced sweeping and sighed. Gaston's recent actions were beginning to get to her. What was his problem? Couldn't he just forget about Belle and worry about a girl that was INTERESTED in him? Not a girl he needed to lock up to get her to marry him? What was wrong with Anne, or Dominique, or the Baker's sister, whatever her name was? The one with the curly hair. And what, most of all, is wrong with ME? Chanal gritted her teeth and swept so hard that the bristles began to come off the broom. She threw it aside. "Gaston should be MINE!" she snapped. Realizing she'd said it aloud, and realizing that other people on the street were looking at her, she put on a fake smile, picked up the broom again, and started sweeping again in silence.