The room was still empty, with a dressing mirror hanging on the wall. Although its edges were somewhat damaged, it was still largely intact.
That level of preservation was already something of a miracle in this dilapidated house.
Sunlight fell on it, casting scattered flecks of light around the room.
Suddenly, those flecks vanished, and a monocle appeared in the cracked mirror.
Behind its lens was an eye that seemed to be spying on the place, its gaze sweeping across the room.
Then that gaze stopped on the armchair.
It stared fixedly at the pills on it.
After a long while, the Monocle trembled and gradually grew larger in the mirror, as though drawing closer.
When it came as close as it could, pressing against the mirror's surface, faint ripples appeared in the mirror, like a drop of water falling onto a calm sea.
Then the Monocle actually began to protrude slowly out of the mirror.
Behind it came the ends of chestnut hair, a delicate face with a calm, cold expression, and a shoulder cape like black feathers that concealed her thin figure.
Her tall boots stepped out of the mirror and landed on the dusty floor with a crisp sound.
The girl held a small ladies' revolver with its hammer already cocked, her gaze swiftly sweeping through the entire old house.
After confirming that nothing was amiss, she remained still, but the Monocle over her right eye disappeared. She gently closed that eye as well, as though examining something.
A moment later, she said softly, "I've checked all the rooms. There are some traces, but no one's here, Doro."
"Don't call me Doro. I'm Dorothea." After speaking, she paused, then added, "Dorothea Ramsey."
"There are no signs of damage to the lock, though there isn't much need to