"Did you count the monthly and daily losses?" Charlotte asked, burning the calculator with her finger as she speedily drilled numbers on it.

"Yup," Winnifred sighed, moving the stack of papers away from herself.

"Done for today." She yawned and stretched. "Do you feel sleepy?"

"A little." Winnifred twitched her lips, dissatisfied with her friend's answer and looked out the window. The setting sun glistened in the glass. Winnifred sighed and turned away from the luring view.

"Ten more minutes. Interesting, what do you have to do at home?"

Winnifred began bending her fingers, brows frowning more and more and she counted.

"Laundry, mopping, plant watering, oh right, it's my turn for dinner..."

Winnifred clicked her tongue in displeasure and sighed, lowering her hands on the table. For a while, she observed how Charlotte diligently calculate something. Then, Winnifred began packing her belongings into her small briefcase.

"Already going?" Charlotte asked, not lifting her eyes up from the papers.

"Yes. I'm done and it's almost six anyway. See you later."

Winnifred walked down the indistinctive, not different from any other, corridor. Passing the front desk, she shortly lifted her hand in farewell.

"Good night, Mr. Birdwell."

"Good night, Miss Lewly."

This evening the summer air was soft and warm. Winnifred has been working as an accountant in the local financial company for a week now, specifically a week since she's returned from Maine. A lot has changed, of course. For instance, she began dressing a bit like Johnathan in the sense that now she had a dress code to follow. Not that it was extremely strict. Winnifred sometimes wondered if it existed at all.

Flinging the portfolio over her shoulder, Winnifred enjoyed the warm air and dark green trees, plunging into the smoke blue evening. Winnifred whistled a random melody under her breath, swinging the briefcase back and forth as she approached the mill. Her whistle abruptly swung off into the wrong key, before fading completely. The mill's door was closed. As far as Winnifred remembered, it was never closed. Winnifred quietly approached, trying not to break any twigs, and slightly leaned forward. There were voices inside, that was for sure, but she couldn't tell what they were talking about. Deciding that it's probably for Heath's work, Winnifred leaned against the mill's wall, slapping the briefcase in front of her. She waited, aimlessly tracing the surrounding trees with her eyes. Heath still hasn't revealed the core of his profession. Winnifred wondered what it was, but didn't insist that he told her. Something whispered to her that she wouldn't like it.

The door abruptly flung open. Winnifred jolted and looked up. Three men, dressed in leather jackets and unpleasant overall, walked out. One of them, the tallest, measured her with a disdainful look. Winnifred silently followed them with her eyes and quickly ran up the steps.

"What thugs came to you?" She demanded, flinging her briefcase on the random chair standing near her. Heath was sitting back to her, and it looked as if he was writing something.

"Business, Freddie, business. Come, make yourself comfortable." Winnifred smirked, looking around. Then, looking back at Heath, she tiptoed behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Whom are you writing to?" Heath straightened out in his chair, stroking Winnifred's arms. Heath just shook his head. Winnifred then quickly leaned over him, trying to snatch the letter, but Heath was quicker; grasping the paper off the table, he jumped to his feet, holding the letter high above his head. Winnifred made a wry face.

"Heath, you know that's not fair!" Heath broadly grinned at her, standing far below his head.

"Try to catch it," he teased. Winnifred jokingly jumped up, trying to reach it, but unsuccessfully flopped back down.

"Heath..."

"What?"

"Damn you," Winnifred waved him off, given up. She looked away, then turned back again. Her eyes lit up in interest.

"Who is it to? A he or a she?"

"A she," Heath obediently yielded. Winnifred's entire face changed, melting first from curiosity to surprise then to immense happiness.

"Really?!" She grabbed him by the arm, still not believing her ears.

"Who is it then? Charlotte? Jenny?" Winnifred quietly gasped. "Margaret?"

"You'll learn someday," Heath smiled. "But you're not allowed to see them before," he warningly added, placing the letter on the shelf.

"Of course," Winnifred wide eyed watched the paper softly land on the big stack. She transferred her gaze back on Heath.

"Wow."

Heath chuckled and took her by the hand.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs."

My marvelous Freddie,

You don't mind if I still write to you?

It's been a week and I still fucking don't believe it. You disappear constantly at your work, just like Johnny. Is that a hint for me to start working too? I have been buying less groceries than usual. Damn it.

These mob dealers just get on my nerves. Not even worth ripping them off. Whatever.

I have to remember to tell you about that party we're having next Saturday, you know, end of college and that kind of stuff. I got this.

Your loyal buddy,

Heath

The attic was partly destroyed at one place. In other words, there was an open hole in the attic's wall, and the floor which dangerously extended outwards. That hazardous place was very rightly utilized, filled with a comfortable sofa. Now, Heath and Winnifred were sitting on this sofa, admiring the sleepy sun drag back into the horizon. Winnifred dropped her head on Heath's shoulder, his arm warmly wrapped around her. Her blue eyes traced the pink clouds in the sky.

"Did you miss me?"

Heath was silent for a moment.

"Terribly," he quietly said. Winnifred unnoticeably sighed.

"So did I."

"How was it?" Heath asked in curiosity. "You never talk about Maine." Winnifred hesitated for a moment.

"It was alright." She glanced up at him. "I'll show you the photos. Only later."

Heath smirked, fingers unwittingly drawing circles on her forearm.

"Gotcha. Next time we three'll go together."

Winnifred smiled and lifted her feet up into the couch, snuggling them closer to the pillows. Nightfall quickly collapsed over the town, which immediately flared up in countless little lights from houses. It was like a sea of darkness, or the forest, bordering a sea of lights, or the beginning town.

"Look," Heath freed his arm from under Winnifred's head and pointed towards the lonely patch of light, shining from the forest.

"That's the hospital. Hold on," he quickly scrambled from the couch and disappeared somewhere in the attic. Winnifred heard something fall and clang behind her and hugged a pillow closer to her chest. Heath appeared a second later, an old, rusty spyglass in his hands.

"Is it still in working condition?" Winnifred frowned, eyeing its poor state.

"Like new," Heath whirled it between his fingers and unrolled it, bringing it up to his eye.

"Okay, seventh window he said..."

"Are you trying to find Johnny?" Winnifred asked in curiosity, watching as Heath directs the spyglass across the air.

"Yup...Here it is, third floor, seventh window and no lonely Rapunzel in sight. Damn it."

Heath clasped the spyglass with a crack and lowered back down on the couch.

"Can I have it?" Winnifred took the spyglass from his hand and began studying the surrounding. The glass was old, with low visibility, but Winnifred couldn't tell anything in the darkness below anyway. So, she directed the spyglass up on the stairs.

"Hey, I think I see the Milky Way!"

Heath took the glass from her and took his portion of observation.

"I like to observe the stars with full view," He finally said, lowering down the spyglass. Heath looked some more on the forest.

"What do you see?" Winnifred asked, not really waiting for an answer.

"I see," Heath slowly said, not looking away from the glass. "A little squirrel nibbling on her...walnut? Or is it hazelnut? Take a bit north and two little bear cubs are playing in the stream. And if we look at the village rim, we see a man...a drunk man actually, reeling his way down the road..."

"Stop," Winnifred chuckled. For a second, Heath looked away from his glass and winked to her. A moment after, he returned to his glass.

"Also...hold on. There's a train approaching this town!"

"Really?" Winnifred frowned. For some reason, a shiver ran down her spine. She heard the train whistle echo in the distance.

"Yeah," Heath enthusiastically continued. "Speeding through the night like the Polar Express itself...whatever."

He lowered the spyglass and threw it behind him into the attic. Winnifred continued sitting there, chewing her lip.

"By the way, did I tell you that our guys are making a party for the end of college?"

"No," Winnifred turned to Heath, somewhat relaxing. "When?"

"Next Saturday. We waited specifically for you, even though if it was my decision, I would exclude you completely. Will teach you how to slack off."

Winnifred snorted. Heath broadly grinned and tucked her closer to his side. The stars mischievously twinkled from above. Winnifred sighed and stood up.

"Auntie will be worrying."

"Yes, of course," Heath agreed, standing up as well. "Do you want me to accompany you home?"

"No, it's okay." Winnifred walked down the stairs, hand sliding down the wide, wooden rail. At the doorway, she turned around. Heath leaned on the doorway, taking out a match. Winnifred silently watched how a small fire kindles inside the dark cup of his hands.

"Are you free tomorrow?" He asked, lowering the cigarette from his mouth.

"I'm working till six, then I'm taking Margie to the hospital and after that depending on the circumstances."

"What is it with her?" Heath frowned.

"She's gotten worse," Winnifred sighed. "Oh well. See you tomorrow. You're free, right?"

"We'll see. Good night." Heath quietly closed the door behind her.

A/N First chapter of Part 2! No worries, the action is soon to come! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!