Sometimes life was the epitome of unfair. Soleil had understood that then, and she understood it again in those seconds when she glanced at the note in her hands and then looked at the clock.

It was already late in the evening and although she hadn't wanted to dance, nervousness had driven her to the pole. An entire month had already passed since the chat with Illumi and no one had contacted her. The money was getting less and less. The little she had put aside had been spent on a new outfit to attract more customers and with each passing day, the hope that anything had been left for her at all diminished more.

Besides, Hell was missing.

She had pursued her steady job, settled into this world there on the other side of the shore and enjoyed the daylight instead of the night. Thinking of her made every step a little harder. Heaven and Dragon were no substitute for Hell. Probably no one ever would be.

The sigh on Soleil's lips tasted bland as she set the bill aside. The rent would catch up with her soon, and she didn't have the money together yet. Her body had nothing left to offer that most of the men in town hadn't already seen. Boredom overtook the club, and only true devotees remained. There weren't many of them. And they dwindled with each passing evening.

With a shake of her head, Soleil tried to push away the negative thoughts. She had to stay positive, get the rent together and move on – maybe even write to Illumi. After all, he had no plan about friendship, so she had to go the extra mile and show him how to communicate. It just needed a little more time. More of everything that just wouldn't come and threw her everyday life off track.

If she had actually stayed at home, she would probably have starved to death by now. On top, she had been warned. If she disappeared again, there would be no going back. But she needed it. The possibility of having a place where she belonged, because no one else opened the doors for her. That was the only reason she had dressed up this evening. The shiny silver dress on her body shimmered in the artificial light. With it, people would at least look at her briefly when she stood on stage and performed her best poses. For a moment, the world around her would fade away. She just had to adapt to the music. It was one of the few good things about dancing. For a second, she could be everything and forget about reality.

On stage, she was immortal.

Outside, she was plagued by the expenses of a flat that threatened to collapse on her because she wasn't making enough money.

Carefully, Soleil put on earrings, then finally slipped into the heels of the black stilettos and packed the most important things. She was already late. Changing on the spot would take time, which was worth money. Everything had to be right. Only the wig she would put on when she got there. A long coat concealed the outfit that would give her away as soon as her shift was over and the cold outside world welcomed her heartily into its frosty arms. March wasn't warmer than its shitty predecessor. Then she took another breath. It was an evening like any other.

And yet it seemed drearier than most.

When Soleil switched off the lights and opened the front door, however, it was two men who added colour to the dull evening and piqued her interest. Both in clean suits, they wobbled up the last few steps as if they had been up and down the stairs of the apartment building more than once. One was loosening his tie, the other was standing beside him with his head up and panting. Neither of them fit in this place.

A little too loudly, Soleil slammed the door shut to draw attention. Instantly, both men's eyes darted in her direction. The face of one of them brightened.

"Excuse me, Miss. We're looking for someone, but this house ... has no nameplates on the doorbells and the few who have opened the door to us have slammed it in our faces again. No one ... wants to talk to us and yet we've been in this town for a fortnight looking for someone." He put a hand to his chest. "Would you help us?"

"If I can..." She raised her brows before taking a few steps towards the man and crossing her arms in front of her chest. He still didn't look like a criminal, but caution was a stripper's best companion.

A little too hastily, her counterpart dug a photo out of the inside pocket of his jacket before holding it under her nose. "We're looking for a Soleil Meunier."

In front of her nose was an old childhood photograph of her. Back then, she had had long black hair that had ended in annoying curls. It was no wonder they couldn't recognise or find her that way. The authorities had probably smiled at the picture, preferring the cake to a simple search within the filing cabinets.

"Who wants to know?" she finally asked. The fact there were no names on the doorbells was solely because no one wanted to be found in these alleys. It was a good way to hide. Because no one talked and no one saw anything.

"The judges in charge of her mother's estate," the man replied wearily, and all at once the evening became a little brighter.

They had been looking for her.

And they had found her.

"I'm Soleil," she then revealed as she pulled out her identity card from her handbag. A quick glance at the number, her picture and name, and the other data were enough to convince this man in front of her.

"Thank God," gasped the other one behind him. "I probably wouldn't have survived another day like this."

"Shut up," the other hissed. Then he turned to Soleil with a glum expression. "We are sorry to tell you that your mother has passed away. She took her own life."

She was free. Though hope had diminished before, it flared up again in those seconds. Her breath burned in her throat and restlessness gnawed at her existence. Simultaneously, hot tears rose, harshly gracing her cheeks and making her sob for a moment. There was no longer any reason to worry. Everything that had seemed impossible before suddenly turned into something that was no longer a problem.

"Oh, don't!" Awkwardly, the man opposite put a hand on her shoulder. "It's always hard to let someone in the family go and I'm sure you and your mother were close, but there comes a time for everyone. Even if the circumstances are deeply distressing. Believe me."

He misinterpreted her tears and yet Soleil couldn't help but choke back the relief of that in more tears. They couldn't even tell what a terrible person she was. There was no way to imagine that it was her fault that her mother was no longer alive. In the eyes of these men, she was just a sad daughter left behind and it gave the situation a joke whose bitter aftertaste burned on her tongue.

She was cruel.

A terrible person who took pleasure in the death of another.

And yet she was none of those things. It was all right – somehow. She had only given back what had stuck to her all these years.

"I can understand that you'd like to stomach all this now but...," he cast an indecisive glance at his colleague who just shrugged, "we've been looking for you for a while now and our boss has had us running day and night for this. It's been ... exhausting days. So if you would please just ... sign this document here?"

Hastily, her counterpart gestured to his companion to hand over a folder he had fastened inside his jacket. Shortly afterwards, the document was presented to her. Proof that she had noted her mother's death and also everything that had been left to her. At least that was what she believed in.

"Would you read it out?" Lips pressed together, Soleil looked at the official for a moment before a sigh escaped him and he summarised what was necessary.

"You're left an old mansion, a car, and a fortune of eighty billion Jenny."

With that, she wouldn't have to lift a finger to survive for the rest of her life and even if that wasn't what she wanted, the thought seemed intriguing.

"The account with the assets will be transferred to you as soon as you sign this document," her counterpart continued slowly. "If you wish, we can even take you to the estate. It's on our way back." He faltered. "But you were already going out, I assume..."

"No!" Instantly, Soleil waved it off. "I was going out, yes, but the circumstances... I'd rather go home." Hell was no longer around, after all. "If you give me two minutes, I'll be delighted to come with you."

The nod from the official made Soleil turn on her heel and rush straight back to her tiny flat, which she would finally, after all this time, be able to abandon. Her fingers grabbed everything that was close to her heart – but not much came together. All she could pack was a bag full of clothes and shoes – everyday clothes, not the revealing dresses and costumes she would no longer need – her bag with the mobile phone and the knife, and the little radio that had always served her well when she couldn't sleep. Everything else she would find at home. That and much more.

Packed with her few belongings, Soleil stepped back outside the door where the officers had settled on the stairs. The plumper one of them was breaking the rules by smoking. The other had almost fallen asleep.

"I'm ready." Carefully, she approached, getting the men to stand and give her a friendly smile before taking the lead. Straight down the steps to the exit, where ultimately the frosty evening air rolled against her. The month had no warmth left for them, and yet they seemed to use the breezes to stay awake.

Her path led up to a dark blue car whose tinted windows would almost have looked cool if it hadn't been for the sickening reflection of artificial light that turned everything a dirty pink. Still, Soleil's steps remained light, not even faltering when the back door was held open for her and she dropped onto the back seat. The document was handed after her so she could put a quick signature at the end – a few loops that made no sense but looked pretty. Then she sat back.

She had two men to thank for all this, and two unpleasant decisions that had sounded great for a moment. Going along with Chrollo had been just as little a mistake as turning to Illumi. It could hardly have been better, and yet the circumstances still weighed on her shoulders. Arriving home would only make it more real. And probably the grief wouldn't hold back. In the end, she had done something that couldn't be excused. Something she knew could have ended better.

But she had chosen the easiest way. And maybe that was all she would ever manage.

Without further ado, she shook her head. Hanging herself on one thing, over and over, was worthless. She had to live with it and even if the weight was still on her shoulders, it wasn't impossible to forget with time. She could enjoy all of this. She was allowed to enjoy it.

Her eyes closed at the thoughts as her memory cleared. It had been years since she had last been home. She didn't know if anything had changed in the décor or if everything was still the same. Were Roxy and Ace still on duty? Humming, she clung to the image from her childhood. The days when she had run through the corridors and the red wallpaper had shimmered. The paintings on the walls had always raised questions because they weren't relatives and yet her mother was – had been – very attached to them. The dark wood had echoed her footsteps with a clatter and in some rooms, the floor opened out into endless shelves full of books. Nowhere was there a speck of dust. A maid had always made sure that everything remained clean and when no one was looking, they had played hide and seek together with the two children on duty.

She remembered the sweet dresses she had sometimes pulled out of one of the antique wooden boxes and also the silver cutlery that had shone softly whenever she had eaten with it at the large, dark wooden table. For a moment, Soleil thought she saw the chandeliers twinkle and clung to the endless memories she had often spent with laughter – whenever her mother hadn't been there.

Somewhere in the distance, she also thought she still had pictures of her father – old ones that had been gathering dust in her mother's drawers back then. But all she remembered were fuzzy images that underlined that she was optically the same as her mother.

So Soleil dismissed the thought and let herself fall deeper into the nothingness beyond until gentle jolts roamed her senses and she opened her eyes wistfully.

"We're here. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

For a fleeting moment, her perception remained so blurred that Soleil thought Chrollo was asking her that question. But reality caught up with her too quickly and when she recognised the officer, the smile on her lips was rather weary before she shook her head. There was nothing more these men could do. All that remained was in her hands.

As she got out with all her belongings and waved goodbye to the strangers, Soleil's gaze fixed on the walls of her home in the middle of the darkness. Externally, almost nothing had changed. The garden looked a little wilder than she remembered. The traps her mother had used as a little scare against burglars were gone. Presumably, the officials had disposed of them so as not to hurt anyone during the work.

Slowly she put one foot in front of the other and passed the heavy iron entrance gate, which opened with a pitiful squeak. It had been so quiet back then that she hadn't even heard it when she had left. But the years had left the hinges rusty, and the fence looked like it needed a fresh coat of paint.

The paved path up to the entrance grew weeds in places and when Soleil reached the front door and laid a hand on the wood, it simply swung open. They had left the entrance open for her, watched over and well guarded because it was warm inside and still reeked of bleach. The officials had probably called and whoever had felt at home here had left shortly afterwards.

What was left behind was loneliness.

No maid greeted her. The walls were no longer red, but now shimmered in pure white with golden accents. The paintings still hung, the books seemed never to have left their place and the dust on both gave a feeling of eternity.

Her mother had tried to change things, to do everything differently after Soleil had left, but in the end, most things were the same.

She had arrived home.

Indecisive, she pushed her way into the kitchen, where a key had been left for her on one worktop. She would have recognised the old-fashioned, curved design anywhere.

Then she turned on her heel. If everything was still the same, if most things hadn't changed, then maybe there was still hope for a glimpse of her childhood. She hurried up the creaking stairs, straight down the corridor to the last door, which was right in front of her. Before Soleil could bring herself to stop and inhale, she yanked open the barrier and let her hand slide to the light switch on the wall right next to it.

But as the brightness bathed the room in warm light, the thing that had awakened the glimmer of hope in her wasn't waiting for her. Her nursery was now just a storage room, filled with boxes and ugly fabrics. The only thing that still existed was the teddy bear wallpaper she had been so proud of when she was four.

The sigh on her lips weighed heavily as she switched off the light again and closed the door. The verve disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and the silence rushed in her ears. It was nothing new to be alone. But in this big house, it differed from the tiny flat she had lived in. Within these four walls, her thoughts had enough space to understand that she was alone. There was more room for loneliness here.

More room for doubt.

More room for everything.

She dragged her body down to the hallway where she had dropped her bags unnoticed. She grabbed both of them to force herself into the guest room, where everything was still the same. The bed smelled fresh, it was clean, and only the bookshelves showed dust.

She threw the bag with her clothes on the floor while her handbag landed on the bed. Soleil followed barely a moment later. Only when she was lying backwards on the blanket did she do a limp effort to open the coat and free herself a little. She would have to get used to this atmosphere, somehow make it something that belonged to her and let time pass. So she took a deep breath and reached for her mobile phone to open the chat with Illumi.

Her eyes were glued to the endless letters she had shared with him without knowing what to say.

Should she tell him she had moved? Should she say thank you again?

Illumi was her friend. The only one she had this far out of town; and unlike her small flat, she had room to invite someone to this place.

Hesitantly, Soleil activated the function to convert her words into text. She had to go forward. On and on.

"Hey!" she began slowly. "Imagine, the officials have been looking for me for a fortnight and finally found me. I moved straight away, so to speak, and now I've arrived home. And so I thought maybe we could do something typical for friends ... and you come ... visit me?" She faltered for a moment. Issuing an invitation was strange. "Maybe we could do something together. I don't know my way around here, so looking around would certainly be enjoyable together. Besides, we could get to know each other better, so the friendship thing works out."

When the text appeared in the window and all that was left was to send it, Soleil's fingers remained rigid. Invitations were weird and although this villa was more than good enough, it lacked a personal touch.

Didn't you invite someone only when everything was looking right?

Soleil sighed again before she shook her head and simply switched off the display. It was too early for such news. Perhaps she would be better off the next day. With fresh energy and fewer questions. Most things looked friendlier in the sunlight.

So she closed her eyes, let the blackness engulf the light of the room, and followed all the things she needed to change. The list in her head needed to grow and be worked through. She could afford the luxury of change.

Just like the freedom, after all these years, to let go.