Mr. Cooper was walking his weekly route around the rural areas of Canterbury. The air was cool and the sun didn't shine any more, for it had become October.

In these months there never was much other mail than bills, business replies and letters about financial matters, much unlike the summer season that had the post office busy transporting personal letters and postcards from families on vacation in their cottages. The autumn was a nice break from all of that. Mr. Cooper neared the more isolated part of the surrounding villages, where the middle class people lived. The shabby, old houses were unmistakable, and just as he thought, there the child was.

A subtle smile formed on Mr. Cooper's lips. The lad was standing right by the mailbox in front of his humble residence, waiting ever so patiently early in the morning as usual.

Over the years, Mr. Cooper had become quite well acquainted with him. Daniel, was his name. Always in the autumn, especially around the months of October and November and then again in April and May, he would be waiting for Mr. Cooper to bring the mail – almost as if he was expecting a very important letter. He would beam with excitement whenever he saw the good postman with his marine uniform and white beard, but whenever Mr. Cooper didn't have anything for him, he always let out a disappointed sigh.

Mr. Cooper had for long wondered what the nice lad was waiting for, but he never asked. He had no business asking into others' private matters. However, when Daniel finally received his long awaited letter, he almost jumped out of his skin of glee. He would bow thankfully to the amused Mr. Cooper, wish him a great day – not just a good day, a great one – and rush back inside the old house, probably to read it. Such a high spirit couldn't help but brighten Mr. Cooper's mood.

And today was no different from the usual. The gentle boy with the shoulder length brown hair and jade eyes waved at him happily, "Good morning, sir!"

"And good morning to you, Daniel," Mr. Cooper greeted, "How's it going? Is your sister well?"

"She could be better," Daniel's smile faltered slightly, "but she's been so strong. I'm sure she will get well soon!"

Mr. Cooper nodded sympathetically, "You're a good brother, lad, keep that in mind."

"Thank you, sir," Daniel replied, seemingly a bit uncomfortable talking about the sensitive topic that was his sister. He turned to look at the bag, Mr. Cooper carried over his shoulder. "Um, do you have a letter for me?"

"Let me see, let me see," Mr. Cooper chuckled as he started rummaging his sack of mails. For two minutes he searched for the child's precious letter, but there was nothing. He shook his head apologetically to Daniel.

Daniel's shoulders slouched slightly. "Oh. Thank you nonetheless, sir. Have a good day!" The youngster turned on his heel and rushed inside again. Mr. Cooper smiled; he really was something, that Daniel.

He lay on his stomach in an attempt to let the air soothe the cuts. It didn't help, though, and the boy bitterly remembered the only other way he knew of to make pain go away – by distracting your body with pain in another spot.

Daniel stood up and went to the closet in the kitchen. He rummaged it for a moment, then pulled out the first aid kit. He found himself some cotton pads and bandage, then grabbed a bottle of alcohol from his father's stock, and finally took the cloth hanging on one of the chairs.

He sat down in the couch again, starting to patch himself up. His shirt had already been removed as soon as he had returned home. He wetted the cotton pads in the alcohol, then started cleaning the wounds on his back gently. He grimaced by the touch – the sting was immediate. He looked at the used cotton pad, already tainted a dark red colour. He bit his lip and continued cleaning his back, trying to endure the pain as best as he could. When he had finally finished, he dipped the cloth in hot water and rubbed it over his back. It was still sore, but it felt a lot better with the warmth of the wet cloth against his wounds. At last he could bandage the worst of the slashes.

He put on a clean shirt after the ordeal as usual. He checked his arms; the cuts were almost gone, but they probably never would disappear completely. The several number of bruises all over his body, on the other hand, would definitely vanish at some point, thank God. The deep wound on his thigh still hurt, the lesion on his neck had not healed quite yet, and the punch from the other day still hurt in his guts.

Daniel sighed and lay on his stomach to spare the back. No escape.

"What did she say, what did she say?" Hazel sat on the bed, waiting with anticipation for Daniel to sit down beside her.

"Calm down," Daniel chuckled. He couldn't hide his smile, though – he felt like he was about to burst out of excitement. For months he had been waiting. The letter never arrived before September, as his pen pal knew that the costs of receiving a letter was high, and thus she made sure to only mail him two to three times a year.

November rain poured down outside, and even though it was late, Daniel had to see this letter – he hadn't had the time to read it all day! Besides, he had promised Hazel to read it to her, since she also wanted to know how his friend was doing. He slouched down onto the small bed, Hazel cuddling up beside him. He grabbed the knife, he had borrowed from the studio for emergencies, and cut the letter open.

Daniel tugged out the piece of paper inside the envelope. He unfolded it, beaming as he recognised Serena's delicate handwriting; it was certainly a lot prettier than Daniel's. He took a deep breath, and began reading aloud to Hazel.

My dear Daniel,

I apologise for taking so long on writing this letter. I have to tell you something I simply cannot hold in any longer. Truth is, my life here is miserable. I did not want to burden you with my problems, but I feel like you are the only one I can talk to.

It was not this bad at first, but the girls in school have become so mean. Whenever I can answer questions in class, whenever I just mention anything that you have taught me, they laugh at me! As if I am ridiculous for knowing such things. I hear them whispering behind my back, they say that I act like a boy.

My teachers even contacted Mother and told her about my behaviour, that it is disturbing that I know this much of so many 'unladylike' subjects! She was so angry, Daniel. She yelled at me to stop being a child. I feel so alone. Miss Mary keeps me company sometimes, but she doesn't know how I feel. Nobody does.

I wish I never had to go to school. I want to be home-schooled, like my sisters were. But the governess is much more expensive, Father said. What am I to do? I don't want to burden my family, but I feel like I already am. It seems that whenever I open my mouth, people stare at me. Just yesterday by the dinner table, Father was talking about a deal he was about to make concerning an expedition to Italy, and I told them about the gladiators and the Colosseum we read about in your history book. For a moment everyone stared at me, then Mother forbid me to talk for the rest of the evening! I think my parents are ashamed of me. I do like dancing and singing and playing on the piano forte, but I like reading about history and physics and astronomy, too. Does that make me a hoyden?

I do not like it here. I just want to go back to Canterbury and be with you. You are my only friend, but I know now that I'll never be able to tell my family about you for they would never accept it. This place with these people, they are all so superficial. I do not want to be a part of it. Maybe I should have been born a boy. Maybe they are all right. I am not feminine or attractive enough to be a lady, right now all I am to them is a strange and confused little girl.

And I really am confused. I just want to escape London. I miss you, Daniel.

See you soon,

Serena da Silva

"What did she say, Daniel?"

Daniel felt shocked. As he had read the first line aloud, he had gone silent and started reading it to himself, so Hazel hadn't had a chance to find out how Serena was doing. And it would be better if she didn't. "I-I'm sorry, Hazel," he slowly got up from the bed, "This is too private. It was only meant for me."

Hazel got a disappointed look on her face. He didn't avert his eyes from the letter as he placed himself back in his own bed, "You should sleep now. It's late." The little girl was confused, but didn't argue. She silently tugged herself under her covers, still observing her older brother without a word.

Daniel read the letter to himself all over again with a frown deeply implanted on his face. And once again. And just one more time. It was ridiculous! How could they treat her like that? The Serena he knew was no way near being an unattractive gamine – in fact, in Daniel's opinion, she was a very lovely and feminine young girl.

He couldn't help but feel that it was his fault, though. All those years, he and Serena had spent reading about all those academic subjects, he never knew that it would affect Serena's social life like that. He had completely forgotten about how a lady should behave – and that Serena was supposed to be one. And obviously she had as well.

Daniel could do nothing but bite his lip and fist his hands out of frustration for a moment. He had never felt such an immense anger before. He wasn't normally a tempered boy - much unlike his father – but he really wanted to tear this letter apart, as if it would make a difference to Serena's situation in London, which of course it wouldn't. Instead, he shot up from his bed and went to find a pen and paper, then sat down by the small bed stand and began writing his reply in the limited space he had.

Dearest Serena,

I am shocked to hear about all of this. And I must admit, it angers me. I certainly do not think of you as unattractive or unladylike, definitely not, do not let them make you think that! Pardon my forwardness.

I am glad that you told me. I just wish I could do something. Being all the way over here in Canterbury really discourages me, but I promise you that things will get better. Good things come to those who wait. And if things do not get better, then remember our promise; someday I will come to London to go study at the university, and then I will make sure that nothing ever hurts you again. That is a commitment. For now, hold on to your sisters and Miss Mary. They seem to care for you greatly.

I hope summer comes along fast enough. Take care,

Daniel J. Wilkinson

Daniel recited his letter to himself a couple of times, making sure he didn't miss anything or made any spelling or grammar mistakes. He didn't want to make a fool out of himself in front of Serena, who was already a skilled reader and writer in spite of her young age.

"Danny?"

He turned around. Hazel sat up in her bed, looking worried. She had been observing him for quite a while now, even though Daniel had told her to go to bed. "What is wrong?"

"Please go to sleep, Hazel," he mumbled as he folded his letter.

Hazel pouted, "But I can't now... You promised you would read that letter to me!"

Daniel sighed and thought for a moment, then said, "Tell you what. If you go to sleep now, I'll take you into town tomorrow, and afterwards we can go collect chestnuts in the Blean and visit Mother's grave. How about that?"

Her round, green eyes lit up like never before. "Really? Are you serious?"

"Yes! Now quiet down, Dad's asleep!" he said, trying not to laugh.

"All right, then!" Hazel lay down in her bed again without further ado, "Goodnight, Daniel!"

"Sleep tight," Daniel smiled, watching his baby sister snuggle into her covers and close her eyes. It was time to go to bed.

The sun was unusually bright this November noon. Daniel took in the beautiful sight of the many golden colours unfolding throughout the nature. Hazel seemed to quite enjoy the fresh air as well. "Look at all the birds! Danny, look!"

Daniel merely responded with a hum, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't help but wonder what London was like in the autumn.

The market was not too far now, and as they neared the Westgate, the road became a bit more crowded. Coaches driving to and fro town strolled past the siblings and they even came across pilgrims and sellers. Hazel was overjoyed to say the least. She gawked and gaped at anything they came by. Daniel had to remind her that it was rude to point fingers at strangers.

Most of the city walls had been removed, but the Westgate still remained, and the jailer's house on the north side had recently been finished building. The scent of freshly baked bread from the baker's further down the street filled the children's nostrils as they walked through the rather narrow arch between the towers.

Daniel went down St. Peter's Street, directly past the baker. Hazel shot a longing glance at the pastries in the window, though she knew that they didn't have money for those kinds of luxuries. They crossed over the Stour River running through the town, continuing past Eastbridge Hospital – from there on, it wasn't a long way till they reached the post office. In fact, Daniel could see it right by the corner of Stour Street.

Before they went inside, Daniel halted to count his coins. He had almost three pence, minus a farthing. "Hazel, what do you say we go buy some toffee to share after we've posted my letter?"

Hazel looked as if her eyes would roll out of her head any minute. "Really?"

Daniel nodded with a big grin. Nothing beat that expression on his sister's face.

The post office wasn't very busy today; only two other gentlemen were present. The postmaster himself took care of the customers, always trying to save money by running the business on his own whenever he could manage. Daniel waited patiently by the window, holding Hazel's hand.

The postmaster was a large, grumpy looking man with a big, red nose and grey hair sticking out from his unusually large nostrils. Evidently it seemed that the only place, in which the man didn't have any hair, was his head. For years, Daniel had convinced Hazel that he was one of Santa Claus' pixies.

"Thank you, Mr. Lewis. You have a nice day," said one of the gentlemen and gestured with his hat.

The postmaster bowed in response, showing the Englishmen the full row of his crooked, grey teeth, "You too, sir. Send Mrs. Evans my deepest condolences."

As the two men with the fine coats and hats left the post office, Daniel stepped up to the counter with Hazel in hand. He had grown tall enough to reach over the counter, so the postmaster couldn't pretend that he didn't notice the boy any more. "What do you want?" he said in a dull tone.

Daniel merely handed him the letter. Mr. Lewis examined it, as if he believed it to be fake or a scam of some sort, then finally stamped it and put it into the pile of letters going out of Canterbury towards northern England. "Anything else?"

The boy shook his head and bowed. "Have a nice day, sir."

The postmaster grunted, "Get out of here, you scoundrel."

Daniel hurried out of the small shop, relieved that the postmaster didn't try to charge him for the letter, though it was common knowledge that only the receiver paid for service. Hazel puffed, "He must be the grumpiest of all pixies. I can't believe Santa would hire someone like that, he could only ruin the Christmas spirit!"

Daniel chuckled involuntarily and shook his head at his cute sister. He tried to stem his laughing as he and Hazel continued down High Street, "Let's go get some toffee, Hazel."

The siblings turned left by Mercery Lane, finally arriving at the Buttermarket. The town square wasn't quite as busy as it had been a few months ago. The stalls from the summer season had packed up and moved on, which left the Buttermarket wide open with only bypassing people running their own errands.

Mrs. Bell's Treats and Sweets was a small but fancy shop placed in the corner of the Buttermarket, right across from the church gate of Canterbury Cathedral. It had been around for as long as Daniel could remember – and he remembered it all right, from all the times he had passed it when going to town with his father, wishing that he just once could taste the delicious candy, his mother used to buy for him when she was still alive, again. Daniel hadn't been into the shop himself before, but he had seen the price signs in the window, so he knew that they would be able to afford just one bag of classic, English toffee.

A girl a couple of years older than Daniel stood by the counter, tending to some other customers. Mrs. Bell herself came out of the back door leading to the kitchen with a tray, humming merrily as she put the newly baked treats on the shelves. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the lady standing by the counter. "Oh, Grace, my darling! How do you do?"

"Very well, thank you, Alberta," the lady, Grace replied, sending her friend a vibrant smile, "How is the business? Did your husband sign the lease with the real estate agent in Ramsgate?"

"Oh no, dear, we could not for the love of God bring ourselves to leave Canterbury," Mrs. Bell chortled, "We will be around for a long time!"

Daniel couldn't help himself from listening in on the conversation. He felt relieved that Mr. and Mrs. Bell wouldn't move to Ramsgate, for he was quite fond of their sweets.

"Good to hear, friend, good to hear!" Grace said, "By the way, have you heard the news of poor Mr. Evans? He finally passed away just last week!"

Mrs. Bell's eyes widened, the red colour in her apple cheeks fading slightly. "Oh no, how terrible! So Mrs. Henrietta Evans finally became a widow."

"Yes, but that's not all," Grace's voice stilled to a whisper, "Rumours say that Mrs. Evans herself poisoned her husband."

"What a morbid rumour!" Mrs. Bell gasped, "Do you actually believe that?"

"I cannot say anything about the matter," Grace said, "but Henrietta indeed seems very pleased with the amount of money she owns now."

Daniel thought that it was horrible if Mrs. Evans really had poisoned her own husband. To think that money could be such a big deal!

"Aye boy, what would you like?"

Hazel tugged in Daniel's shirt sleeve, causing Daniel to break free of his train of thoughts. The older girl gestured for them to come to the counter.

Hazel sprinted around, trying to collect more chestnuts than she could carry. Birds were chirping their happy songs and dim sunlight penetrated through the treetops, making the whole scene peaceful and idyllic.

Daniel sat under a large oak tree, enjoying his toffee. Once in a while he shared some of his with Hazel, despite the fact that they were supposed to have an equal amount each and Hazel already had eaten all of her own toffee. They had been at it for hours, playing around while collecting chestnuts throughout the Blean, so Daniel had settled down to relax, keeping an eye on his younger sister while she finished up.

"Danny, look how many I have now!" Hazel yelled, while trying not to drop any of the chestnuts. The bright sun had caused small freckles to appear along the bridge of her nose and cheeks.

Daniel smiled. "Be careful, Hazel, we don't have much more space in the bag."

The five year old girl skipped over to her older brother and dumped her collection into the brown bag. "Do you think Father would want to join us when we make chestnut animals?"

Daniel's smile faltered. He bit his lip apologetically, "You know that Father is busy, Hazel."

Hazel nodded, her gaze turning down to the bag of chestnuts. He quickly got up on his feet, changing the subject, "Are you done? We should go visit Mum before the sun goes down."

She lit up again by the mention of their mother and tried to pick up the heavy bag. She wasn't able to. Daniel picked it up instead, chuckling at her efforts. "Let's go."

The siblings walked through the Blean, talking and fooling around while admiring the beauty of the forest. Eventually they reached the outskirts of Canterbury; here, the fields flowed freely throughout the landscape, and no houses or buildings were in sight. "Why did Father bury Mummy all the way out here? It's such a long walk from home!" Hazel wondered out loud, while trying to walk through the tall grass without falling over herself.

"He didn't want anyone disturbing her peace," Daniel replied, kneeling down in front of her so she could hop onto his back, "And he refused to have her buried in the pauper grave. At that time, we had even less money than now, so he could not afford to give her an official burial."

In the distance a lone, lush ash tree on top of a hill came into sight. Hazel tightened her grasp around her brother's neck as they started ascending the hill. "How come we didn't have any money? I know that Dad's business used to be very profitable, Mrs. Phillips next door told me so!" she said, eager to know more about the time when her mother was around – and using a fancy word, she had just learned.

Daniel shot Hazel a surprised look over his shoulder, "When did you talk to Mrs. Phillips?"

"Oh, she's always around our house in the morning, milking her goats by the stable. Sometimes she lets me help out! They're so cute, and she always brings Rufus, you know, their big bloodhound!" Hazel chattered.

"Hazel, you shouldn't go out too much when I'm not there to keep an eye on you, you know that."

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, changing the subject, "You didn't answer my question!"

Daniel could see the small gravestone under the tree. "You're right, we wasn't always this poorly off... I was your age back then, so I didn't understand much of what was going on. But I remember our parents fighting a lot. Father yelled at Mum, he was frustrated because she wasn't able to work any more. She had become pregnant with you, so she was weak and ill. All while England suffered from a crisis; it really affected the market towns in particular, so we lost a lot of money. Everything was just … very bad timing."

"Oh," Hazel mumbled, "So it was actually all my fault…"

Daniel halted, put Hazel down and knelt in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Don't ever think that," he said, looking straight into her eyes, "You were a blessing to us."

"I don't think Daddy feels the same way," she said softly, her green eyes glinting as the tears built up.

He pulled her into a warm embrace, gently stroking her thick, long hair down her back. "Father loves you just as much as I do. He's ... just not very good at showing it. He still misses Mother, so he doesn't realise that he's missing out on you. Don't cry, Hazel."

"I'm sorry," Hazel sobbed, "I miss Mummy, too. Even though I've never met her…"

"She's right here in our hearts," Daniel said and placed a hand on the left side of her chest, giving her a reassuring smile, "You're with her every day. She lives within you, never forget that."

Hazel wiped her tears and giggled as Daniel gave her a kiss on her small, slightly snub nose. "Thanks, Danny. I won't!"

"Good," he smiled and stood back up.

They took each others' hands and continued up the hill, arriving at the ash tree and the grave right underneath it that John had dug for Evelyn. They stood in silence for a moment before Hazel moved forward, putting a flower, she had picked in the forest, on the humble grave. Daniel watched her as she talked to their mother.

"Hi Mum," she said, "I hope you're well. I found this flower in the Blean, it's nothing special, but I thought it was really pretty. So I want you to have it. Father is still working a lot. I never see him, and when I do, I'm honestly feeling scared of him. Were you scared of him, too? I can imagine not, for you were in love with him. Also, I don't know why I keep having all these troubles breathing. Doctor Tate is a big help, but it never stops, and even though Danny says that I'll get better soon, I feel like it's only getting worse."

Daniel swallowed and averted his gaze, but didn't interrupt. Hazel needed this; to confide in her mother.

"I'm afraid, Mum," she said and lowered her head, "Maybe I won't be able to do all these things, like go to ballroom dances or travel. Maybe no one wants to marry me when I come of age. Maybe I'll be left alone here, 'cause I don't want Daniel to be tied down because of me. I want him to go out and experience the world, because that is what he wants, I can tell. But I don't think I'll be able to go with him. I don't."

He fisted his hands. He would never allow Hazel to be left alone. Everything would be all right someday, he just had to find a cure.

"But I think I'd better go now, Mum," Hazel said, picking herself up, "for I do not feel so well, and I should let you and Daniel have a moment. I just wanted to catch up."

Daniel awoke from his thoughts at that remark. He grabbed Hazel, "You're not feeling well? What's wrong?"

Hazel dismissed him, rubbing her eyes. "Nothing, I'm just a little sentimental." She offered a weak smile.

Daniel let go of her, keeping a close eye on the girl as she moved to the other side of the tree. Perhaps she just needed some time alone.

He turned to the grave again. The flower was really beautiful, a nice, blue colour. It was unusual to find a flower like that in the autumn. "Hello, Mother," he said, moistening his lips, "I guess you're a bit worried for Hazel now. Don't be. I'm taking care of her. I won't let anything happen to her. Father is being a bit inconsiderate, but both you and I know he cares about her as well. Everything will be all right, I promise. Have faith in me."

He tried to catch a glance of Hazel, but he couldn't see her from where he stood. He gave up shortly and sat down in front of the gravestone. "But she is right about me wanting to travel. I want to move to London as soon as I'm old enough. I have a friend there and I want to become an archaeologist, I really like history. But you know that already."

What was Hazel doing? It was awfully quiet. "About my friend... I just got a letter from her recently, she was really upset. She told me that she was not feeling well in her party, and it makes me angry that she's treated like that. I don't ever get angry. I care about her a lot."

Daniel was silent for a while. He didn't know what to say. Where was Hazel, anyway?

"But it's going to be fine. I'll be there for her and Hazel… And even Father, whenever he's ready to pick himself up. I'm taking care of our family, Mum, don't you worry."

Suddenly he heard the rasping. It was loud, aggressive. He shot up to his feet, running to the other side of the tree, only to find Hazel on the ground. She was almost completely unconscious, only kept awake by her violent spasms.

"HAZEL!"

Daniel panicked, trying to flip Hazel onto her other side so she wouldn't drown in her own vomit. It poured out onto the grass in an eerily red colour. This was definitely not a good sign. He got Hazel to the local hospital; she could barely move or breathe, and her chest was blue and red. Unfortunately, Doctor Tate wasn't there, but she was checked up on by the other staff instead.

Hazel's condition had gotten worse. She was having internal haemorrhages in her chest area, but no one knew until now due to the bruises. Hazel became confined to her bed.