Back at No. 37 Pine Resin Alley, Vanessa called the children and Allen over, and together they carried Winnie's belongings into the house.
The bellflowers were placed on the windowsill, and Winnie's clothes were divided among the orphans.
The children took back their old toys, but no one spoke. They stood there with their heads lowered, the room so quiet it felt stifling.
Vanessa did not know these children very well, and she had had little contact with Allen either. But Winnie alone was someone every one of them shared memories with.
So many memories, so heavy they made it hard to breathe.
Footsteps came from outside, and Dorothea pushed the door open. At the sight of everyone inside, she paused.
As though she had sensed something in the atmosphere, Miss Crow said little, merely inclining her head gently toward Winnie's body. "I bought a coffin... Let's give her a funeral."
A hexagonal wooden coffin now stood in the courtyard. It was not ornate, but it had a solemn dignity.
Together, they carried Winnie over. Vanessa felt the hard boards of the coffin, took off her trench coat to line the bottom, and only then gently laid her inside.
Vanessa fetched shovels, and they moved the coffin onto the Flatbed Cart. Together, they pulled it toward the cemetery on the outskirts.
The cemetery was far from the Clock Tower District. By the time they arrived, it was nearly dusk.
There was no sign of the groundskeeper anywhere, so they chose an empty patch with a slightly better view and began digging.
But before they had dug for long, Vanessa gradually began to frown.
She spotted several dogs. Their eyes were blood-red, and they were so fat they could barely walk.
A trace of unease rose in her heart. She stood