The Fallen Silk

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The estate had been decorated with carnations and baby's breath – which Effie learned had been Carol-Mae's favourite bouquet – and there were lanterns and candles scattered everywhere. Yards of blush and sage coloured organza adorned the archways and pillars and doors; soft, lyrical music floated over the gardens as all of the guests gathered in a group. Effie sipped a glass of champagne (it seemed that even a memorial was a festive occasion requiring some sort of bubbly refreshment, though she thought that a nice stiff drink would have been a better choice), her free hand tracing circles on Vincent's palm.

'I heard she overdosed on Carolyn's sleeping pills.' A voice whispered near Effie; she turned to see who had spoken, but could not match the voice with a face. She knew that there would be speculation, and the Anderson's must have known as well, but no one seemed to care whether they appeared rude or not. The more she listened, the more theories she heard: pills, hanging, drowned herself in the bath – someone even suggested that she threw herself from the roof of the estate! Effie wished she could find the truth in the sea of conjecture, but remained silent in an effort to at be supportive. She knew what it was to lose a loved one to suicide – it was painful, yes, but also embarrassing and confusing and left one filled with regret and questions about what they could have done to make the person stay.

'Friends, thank you so much for coming on such short notice.' Nels began. His face was drawn and his voice betrayed just how broken his soul was. Carolyn stood beside him, a mere shadow of what she had been at the Autumn Celebration. A hush fell over the crowd, and the entire party went from curious and lively to remorseful. 'It is a sad day when a parent outlives their child, but an even sadder day when a child takes their own life. Now, I want put a stop to the rumours I know have started. My daughter took her own life today, and she did it by hanging herself.' There was a loud gasp from the crowd – though it had been a theory, no one had wanted to believe that the young woman had hanged herself. The curiosity seeped back into the group and whispers as to where it happened began. 'Please, friends, please do not speculate. All will be clear soon.'

Carolyn put her hand on Nels arm and stepped forward. 'Carol-Mae hanged herself at the Great Oak in the forest.'

The collective shout from the crowd startled Effie and she turned all around to see the angered and horrified faces of her fellows. She was shocked at their reaction, but quickly realised that their tradition could be compromised by the sullying of the Great Oak.

'This will not put a stop to any future celebrations, as we do not see her choice as negative but as a demonstration of Autumn at its most base meaning. This is not only a time of thanksgiving and offering, it is a time of death. We reap what we sow, we harvest – and is death not a sort of harvest?' There was agreement from the crowd. Effie noticed that Vincent hadn't said anything the entire time they had been at the memorial, and when she laced her fingers between his, he did not move to accept, nor deny, the touch. His eyes were focused on Nels and Carolyn. 'Let this night be in memory of our daughter, Carol-Mae, who was a bright star in the dimness of the world – let us celebrate her life and let our faith in the Gods be renewed, for she has returned to that which bore her!'

A loud cry rose from the crowd and laughter and smiles were shared as the music picked up and servers appeared with trays of crackers and cheese and fresh champagne. The group scattered and mingled, their voices mixing together with the music to form a din of white noise in the night air.

Effie was left in the centre of the garden, with Vincent, in awe of the turn of events. She had not expected any of what had happened, and though she understood the concept behind celebrating Carol-Mae's life, she could not accept the manner in which the entire town was going about it.

'Can we leave?' Vincent spoke barely above a whisper. She turned to see him, his eyes narrowed and staring at Nels and Carolyn Anderson.

'Sure, definitely. Come on, let's go.' They left the garden, their hands clasped, fingers laced together. Their journey to his vehicle was silent, save for the sounds of their feet on the ground.

'I'm sorry, Vincent.' She said as they reached the vehicle. He loosened his grip on her hand and turned to face her. The moon overhead cast shadows on his face, and he looked so tired as he stared at her.

'You have no reason to be sorry.' He answered, placing his hands on either side of her face. 'You have been an amazing friend, and I am grateful that you were there for me to talk to. It's them,' he said, glancing back at the estate and the music and the laughing, 'that should be sorry. They look for any excuse to have a party, and using Carol-Mae's death like this is despicable. Yes, celebrate her life, but she died today! They should be mourning the loss of their daughter, not drinking and dancing and doing whatever else it is they do.' He leaned against the car, his head resting on his arms, his back heaving with sobs. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, which was met with his own and he backed away from the vehicle. 'I'll take you home, but then I think I need to spend some time with Wyatt. He must be missing me.'

'Of course.' Was all she could muster. He opened the door for her and closed it once she had buckled her seatbelt. He slid into the driver's seat in silence, and the car ride back to her cabin was quiet. When they arrived, she opened the car door but turned to look at him.

Effie wanted to reassure him that everything would be all right, but she couldn't find the words. 'Why don't you and Wyatt come by tomorrow? He can play in the yard, and maybe we can go for walk in the forest.'

'We'll see. Thank you, Effie.' Vincent said, not looking at her. She closed the door and stood back, watching as he pulled out of the driveway and out of sight. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders, the cool breeze linger a bit too long on her bare skin. The forest around her spoke in whispers, the trees moved and sang to her in the wind – there was no one around her, but there was the distinct feeling that someone was watching her from the darkness.

***

Effie sat on the living room floor, surrounded by her mother's journal pages and books from the library and all the notes she had taken about the odd happenings in Norswood during the autumn season. She looked through each piece repeatedly, picking up and putting down papers until her eyes were heavy. She leant against the couch, yawning into her hand, and took a sweeping glance over everything she had collected. There was something that connected each death – Theola's, Retha's, and now Carol-Mae's – but she hadn't found the key.

'Wait...' She whispered, putting her mother's picture beside Retha's. They had both suffered from hallucinations, severe depression, and paranoia. Had Carol-Mae suffered from the same? Effie looked through the records and saw that each Harvest Bride had been to the only therapist in Norswood, before and after the Autumn Celebration – according to the town census', most of the girls had died during childbirth the year after they were offered as brides, and if not at the time of birth, then not too long after.

There was a connection, but she was still far from figuring out the mystery. Exhausted, Effie stood from the floor and stretched her arms over her head. Nimbus purred from the couch, and turned to run her hand over the kitten's fur, but something caught her eye – there, on the window behind the couch, were two hand prints. Someone had stood on her porch and watched her through the curtains; she reached out and locked the front door, but was sure the person was long gone. Nimbus hadn't made a sound since she had curled up on the couch, and Effie hadn't felt or heard anything strange since she had been home, but there was no doubt in her mind that someone had been there.