Great Britain, 1920s. Eleven-year-old Oliver is the thirteenth and youngest child in a very poor family living on the outskirts of the small town of Fernwood. The boy cannot attend school because he is nearly completely blind, and he has no friends...
Oliver was seated in a cozy wooden cottage nestled on the edge of a picturesque forest clearing. The house, thought very little, emanated a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Sunlight streamed through the grimy windowpanes and illuminated the worn wooden floorboards as well as the mismatched collection of furniture. A crackling fire danced merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, reminding of the surrounding wilderness.
A breathtaking vista unfolded outside through the large window. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of wildflowers and fresh pine into the cottage. Towering pine trees, their branches rustling in the summer breeze, stood like silent guardians of the forest. A carpet of emerald green covered the ground, and the distant hills seemed to melt into the horizon.
The boy had never seen this place before, and most importantly, he had never seen anything so clearly. Could it be that his sight had finally returned? Oliver could see everything as if he had been born with perfect vision. It was like some kind of miracle. But that was not even possible, the doctors had given him no hope of regaining his sight. What if medicine had made a mistake? After all, even the smartest people make mistakes or say the wrong things sometimes...
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As the boy pondered what on earth was happening, a young girl appeared in the clearing. She looked to be about twenty years old. She had long, flowing hair the color of ripe wheat that cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall. Her eyes were a deep, sparkling blue, like the summer sky on a clear day and her cheeks were tinged with a delicate pink. She wore a simple, flowing dress made of soft, earthy colors - a real beauty!
Oliver immediately ran out of the house. The boy didn't know why he did it, but he knew for sure that he needed to talk to the beautiful stranger. She definitely had something to say.
He stopped about a meter away from where the girl was standing and realized he should probably greet her, but he must have been too shy.
"Your name is Oliver," the stranger said abruptly and sharply, without even smiling.
"How do you... How do you know?"
"You know me too, you just never saw my face clearly. I'm Jenny Saunders, Thomas's ex-fiancee." Her intonation was as if she were describing a boring everyday situation.
"But you were killed!" Oliver himself didn't believe what he was witnessing at that moment.
"That's right. And that's why I want to ask you for help."
"But what can I do? I can't bring you back to life, no one can!"
"Yes, but I'm asking for something else."
But what the hell does she even want? Jenny is dead, she's gone. She's lying deep in the ground in a coffin, and all that's left of her are the memories of her relatives, friends, or just acquaintances. For this girl, nothing else makes sense anymore, and any fulfilled request won't bring Jenny the slightest pleasure.
Nevertheless, Oliver dismissed all his rational thoughts and dared to ask: "What do you want from me?"
And she smiled – for the first time in the whole conversation, her face expressed some emotion. "I want you to help the police find the real killer."
What? The boy felt himself freeze in place. This is some kind of nonsense. Firstly, the name of the culprit is already known. Secondly, Oliver had never been asked anything like that before, and how could he even help? And why him? Didn't Jenny find any better candidate for the role of a so-called consultant in the investigation of crimes?
"Umm... What about Thomas Young?" he asked cautiously, stuttering and mixing up words.
"The investigators were mistaken - Tom is innocent."
Wow! Oliver was still at that age when it seems that adults don't lie, don't be lazy, don't do bad stuff, and of course, don't make mistakes, because they are adults! Only children can do all sorts of stupid things and then get punished for it in the form of a slap or extra housework. But at that moment, the boy's world turned upside down.
"But how will I find the real criminal? I'm not a detective! I've never even been to school. I... I'm just nobody!"
Oliver wasn't even sure if he was ready to take on such responsibility, especially at the age of eleven. This age is more suitable for fun pranks with friends rather than solving dangerous crimes. But fate deprived him of any friends, so he had to entertain himself with what happened on the road. Or, more precisely, in the middle of a dense forest.
"You have to find the letters in my attic. That's where all the answers you need are hidden. Look for the truth on paper."
"Letters? But I can't read!"
It seems that the girl didn't hear him or pretended not to hear - her gaze was directed somewhere to the side, and she was no longer paying attention to Oliver. In a matter of seconds, her outlines began to blur.
"Jenny? Are you still here?"
And through all this landscape of unearthly beauty, the merciless rays of gray reality began to break through. The picture began to fade and lose its colors, and in a moment, the boy heard a familiar voice, sounding right in front of him:
"Oliver!"
***
At that very moment, the mysterious scene dissolved right in front of his eyes and now the boy could only see the barely visible outlines of the living room. Jenny Saunders was nowhere to be found — it was as if she had appeared only in his mind and only to speak with him and convey important information.
"Kevin, did you call for me?" Oliver asked cautiously.
Kevin was Millie's twin brother and that's why they looked as alike as two peas in a pod - both with light, slightly reddish hair and freckles. Oliver differed from them somewhat, namely by the absence of freckles and by being a little shorter.
"Dude, you were sitting there as if you are numb! I've been calling your name for two or three minutes, poking you, slapping your face, but you wouldn't react at all!" Kevin seemed a bit angry. "I was starting to think you'd lost your mind."
"I think I just dozed off..." Oliver lied so he wouldn't be considered crazy.
"With your eyes open?"
"But I was dreaming!" He was already doubting whether it had really been a dream.
"With your eyes open?" Kevin repeated sarcastically. "Let's go out to the yard, you can help me feed the horses."
Actually, cleaning was almost the only thing Oliver was capable of. Maybe the boy could learn many more useful things, but that would probably be in the next life.
