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As promised, Isla-Dove paid the twins when they found her at the square.

As a result, Miss Capen deprived her of supper.

Isla-Dove didn't realize that the seamstress knew there had been money inside of her cloak. She had been keeping an eye on the coins and checked them every time Isla-Dove returned from being out. She claimed it was a test to determine her trustworthiness.

Isla-Dove failed her test, even when she tried to explain that she bought nothing with it but had given it to those in need. Miss Capen didn't believe her and presumed she had gotten herself a meal. Therefore, Isla-Dove got no meal that evening.

The following morning, Isla-Dove rolled over in bed, gripping her stomach. Sharp pain stabbed at it when she forced herself to sit up. She winced, taking a deep breath before rising to her feet and off of the creaky mattress. It was a new day with new work to do. She felt like doing nothing. Her head pounded with a pulsing headache, but she left the dusty room and headed down the staircase to the workshop anyway.

There was no sign of Miss Capen, but a large basket of deliveries waited for Isla-Dove by the front door. Her stomach growled painfully. She glanced back at the stairs. The kitchen was up there. She didn't grab anything on the way down, but she doubted that she currently had the energy to go back up.

Instead, she braced her legs and hoisted the basket up into her arms, her body trembling.

The morning passed in the same way it normally did. Deliveries that involved lots of walking, remaining alert to folks who eyed the beautiful clothing that hung partially out of the basket, and making sure she didn't fall and spill the expensive fabrics on the ground.

She did that once before. The punishment had been worse than no food.

Isla-Dove could feel that her hair needed washing as coarse strands of pink stuck to her neck. She wanted to cry at the thought of how she looked to others. She wanted to be beautiful. She wanted to turn heads in a good and stunning way.

Every few minutes, Isla-Dove's vision swam in small currents of black. She wished she could blame heat waves but she know it was overexertion, dehydration, and malnutrition. Some nights, she pleaded with the sky to allow her to not wake up once she fell asleep. She wanted freedom, whether it be in life or through death.

The magician gave her the chance to gain freedom in life. It was up to her to go through with the deal, find the unicorn, and kill it. Finding it would be a difficult task alone, and her hesitance had an affect on the hunt. She had yet to find the time to search the forest, but part of her was relieved because that gave her more time to ponder the decision.

It was an animal. It would save millions of lives...hers included. But she would also be cursed. Was a curse worth freedom? Wouldn't a curse only be another form of bondage?

Isla-Dove went through the motions of walking and delivering without having to give it much thought. She was so used to it that her mind could wander at the same time. What brought her mind back to her surroundings was when a voice shouted, "Hey! Hey, pink haired girl!"

She swiveled around, arms ready to swing the basket if needed. The shout wasn't angry; more of a greeting call for her attention.

She blinked.

Then she blinked again.

If this was an illusion from her mind, she wasn't as stable as she originally thought.

A guy was walking toward her, either not noticing or not caring about the stares that he got from folks as he made his way toward Isla-Dove. She stared at him, eyes starting at the top of his head and slowly working their way down in utmost confusion and alarm, not because he was handsome (though he most certainly was), but because Isla-Dove could see the folks gawking behind him through him. She stared at his torso only to see others staring back.

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