Marie hadn’t been particularly lucky in her life, losing her family and estate in the revolution had left her a vulnerable orphan in the streets of Paris. There were numerous dangers: gangs of other children, thieves, frostbite, and corrupt officials who roamed the dark alleys Marie was forced to call her home; if the dank space between the liquor shop and barber could be called that.

Marie sucked in a quick breath and ducked into her alley when she saw them. Two rowdy boys who looked like they had fallen into a chimney what with the amount of dust and ash on their faces and clothes. It was painfully obvious that they were street kids like herself. However, Marie knew better by now than to try and befriend other orphans, the scars from previous encounters were a painful reminder of that.

“Ay Jaques, look ‘ere!” The shorter one called. Her heart started to thump louder as they came closer to her hiding space.
 
“Pfft! You’re not serious right? You want to be in close neighborhood with the officers?”
 
“Am too! Besides, those mutton shunters are ‘round every corner these days, doesn’t matter much where ya go.” The boy retorted.
 
“I’m not taking chances ‘ere Luc, best we find some other crib…”
 
Marie peeked out from behind a bin just as the two ran off into the next street, presumably to find some other place to spend the night. Thinking back on what she had heard though, Marie began to worry, she had only gotten to this particular spot the night before and hadn’t noticed any officers or soldiers around this part of town; But that had been during the later hours when all the grownups were in the pubs and taverns on the outskirts of the city, bundled up in jackets and shawls to keep out the crisp November cold. Marie was in deep trouble if the boys were right. Orphans were never well received, but especially not in times like these, and it didn’t help that beneath her worn cloak her dress stood out like an emerald in a coal mine, dirty and torn as it was.
 
Marie tamped down her rising anxiety as she tried to plan her next move, she could either stay and risk being found— and be dragged off to an orphanage at best— or leave and hope to find a safer place.
 
Deep down Marie knew that any action was better than no action. Besides, she would have to leave eventually; however the prospect of getting found by police was a rather daunting one, even if they didn’t kill her out of suspicion or recognition, they could easily drop her off at an orphanage or a workhouse where she would have a whole new set of problems.
Marie doubted she’d be strong enough to handle that. The children she’d seen in those places looked like hollowed shells, without a spark of joy or hope in their little hearts; even on the streets you didn’t see such despondent faces…
 
Marie peeked out of her hiding place once again, the traffic had begun to die down, and the workers looked far too sober and exhausted from their shifts to try anything should she venture out. Bracing herself, Marie stumbled out of the alley and into the shuffling crowd, pulling her hood down over her face as much as possible. She had barely walked three steps when —much to her dismay— she felt a hand close around her wrist.
 
“Hey there, lass.”
 
Marie couldn’t help but feel her heart sink with dread. Stopping dead in her tracks, she slowly turned to face whoever had grabbed her.
 
“Are you alright?”
 
The man looked to be in his 40’s, with a stout frame that was typical of officers.
 
Officers.
 
Marie eyes dilated in panic as they landed on the mans crisp uniform. She jerked her arm back as hard as she could, prepared to make a break for it; but the man didn’t let go.
 
“Let go! Let go of me!” Marie tried to pry his hand off.
 
“Please calm down lass! I only wanted to—
 
“Stay away sir!” Marie shouted, tears forming in her eyes as people stopped to stare at the commotion.
 
“Lass!” He shouted harshly, bringing Marie’s struggles to a halt. “I only wished to know if you were alright.” He loosened his grip a little, and gave an apologetic smile to her and the surrounding people, who, upon seeing nothing of interest, quickly dispersed.
 
Marie hesitantly stood her ground, continuing to search for some form of escape. Distantly feeling like some captured bird, she decided on a new tactic.
 
“I am alright, but my mother will worry if I don’t come home soon.” She tried to put as much conviction in her words as possible, but the officer gave her a knowing look.           
 
“I can see yer an orphan lass.” He said gently, the way one might speak to a frightened animal.
 
“You must… you must have mistaken me for someone else sir, I am not an orphan and I must really be on my way!” Marie tried to pry his hand off her again, but to no avail. He might as well have been made of iron.
 
“I’m ‘ere to give you a home lass! If you would just let me help, we could be on our way already.”
 
The officer’s grip tightened. “If you won’t come with me then I’ll send you off to the workhouse. Would you prefer that lass?”
 
Marie paled as she thought back to the children she’d seen there, as reluctant as she was to go with the strange man, she certainly did not want to end up doing the town’s laundry from dawn till dusk, or get stuck with an equally horrid job.
 
Taking advantage of Marie’s hesitation, the officer began to drag her along, into an unfamiliar- yet admittedly nicer- area of town. Here the buildings gradually t newer and more spacious, almost like her parent’s old house. Men and women milled about in fancy clothes in their brightly lit homes, likely preparing for dinner; birds stood on display in golden cages, and the guest’s laughter and the tinkling of glasses could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Marie concluded that these must have been the houses of those who aided the most recent revolution, traitorous officials and generals who made it clear their support came with a price.  
 
Marie’s heart twisted as she thought of her old house. Was it burned to the ground? Did a new family move in after fixing the broken windows and doors? She quickly occupied her mind with something else before her thoughts ventured to places they shouldn’t.
 
The further they walked, the more Marie’s skin tingled with the sensation that she did not belong— not anymore. Every instinct was telling her to run far, far away from strange officers and rebuilt neighborhoods. She never should have left her alley, Marie thought bitterly as she looked at the finery around her.
 
When the sun began to set, they finally arrived at a white house on the outskirts of the neighborhood, with a pleasant view of the woods across from a bridge. Almost like something from a fairy tale.
 
“Well lass, I’d say we’re just in time for supper.” The officer smiled down at her kindly despite their earlier struggle. Marie didn’t quite know what to make of that.
 
“Ah, to think I had almost forgotten!” He laughed, his grip on her wrist was still tight “You can call me Victor, and the missus is Isabel. What’s yer name lass?”
 
“…Marie.”
 
“Marie,” Victor repeated, “A fitting name for a girl like yerself.” Before she could say anything to the odd remark, he opened the door and led her inside.

“I’m home Isa!” Victor called. “I’ve brought a gift you’ll like too!”
 
Marie peeked out from behind him curiously, and vaguely wondered what the gift was. The entrance hall was well decorated and spotless, so much so, that she almost felt a twinge of guilt when she noticed the dirt she had tracked in. It seemed as though her very presence contaminated the place. That was the way most people saw it.
 
Marie’s thoughts were interrupted by the swift arrival of a young, stern looking woman—presumably Isabel.

“Welcome home, Victor.” Her cold eyes narrowed when she saw Marie awkwardly standing behind Victor.
 
“What is the meaning of this?” Isabel asked frostily, “I was not aware that we had… company.” She looked Marie up and down. Marie shrank back a little, feeling intimidated by Isabel’s seemingly flawless presence; every strand of her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and though her dress was not of the finest cloth or the latest fashion, it was thoroughly ironed to give an orderly appearance.  
 
Marie nervously glanced between the two, wishing desperately that she were anywhere but there. The tension was increasing by the second, oddly enough however, Victor seemed completely oblivious to his wife’s daunting demeanor.
 
“I found this little lass— Marie— by herself on the streets not a day ago, figured we could all use a helping hand, ‘specially in these times.” Victor said with a proud smile. “She’ll be staying with us for a while. Now, is that supper of yours ready? Why I’m hungry as a horse!”
 
Isabel pursed her lips, “Yes, Victor.” She glanced sharply at Marie, “Please, follow me.”
 
Marie’s stomach twisted hungrily at the promise of food as Isabel lead them to the dining room, where two plates of steaming hot stew were waiting.
 
“My apologies for the lack of proper hospitality,” Isabel dryly stated. “I’d have set out enough plates had I known about your arrival in advance.”
 
Marie laughed nervously, unsure of how to respond to such a pointed statement.
 
“Well, no need to make this a bag of nails, just fetch another plate dear.” Victor said as a smile stretched across his face.
 
Isabel glared silently at him, and left the room with a huff. Shortly after, she returned holding a noticeably smaller plate of stew for Marie, even so, it smelled better than anything she’d had in a long time.
 
I won’t get lured in with this. Marie promised herself as her stomach growled. No matter how good it is, I won’t stay with these people.
 
The dinner went by rather tensely, Victor loudly consuming every last morsel with gusto, Marie trying her best not to do the same, and Isabel glowering silently into her stew; wincing slightly whenever specks of Victor’s food landed on the table. Once the last of the stew had been eaten, Victor turned in for the night with a tired apology and left Isabel to show Marie where she would be staying.
 
Following Isabel up the stairs to the landing, Marie noticed that at the end of the hallway was a rather peculiar door. The door itself was not strange, painted in a pastel hue with white little mice on the boarder; She assumed it belonged to a young boy. What made it odd, however, was the heavy chain around the handle, preventing anyone from ever entering the room.
 
Marie couldn’t help but notice how Isabel avoided even glancing in it’s direction.
 
“Come along,” Isabel said tightly. “You will stay in the attic.”
 
Pulling down a trapdoor above them, she gestured to the drop down ladder leading up to the dark space. Hesitantly, Marie asked,
 
“Excuse me, Madam, may I please have a light of some kind? It looks very dark… I wouldn’t want to break anything.”
 
Isabel’s eyes narrowed, “There is a window in the attic, you’ll have enough light from the moon.”
 
Sensing she was on thin ice, Marie rearranged her cloak and numbly climbed the stairs; praying all the while that her dress beneath wasn’t showing. It was only once she made into the attic and pulled the trapdoor shut that her shoulders slumped in relief.
 
True enough to what Isabel said, there was a window that provided just enough light for Marie to make out her surroundings. Some blankets in a corner, chests with various objects in them, and strangely enough, a few toys. Marie shuffled closer, hoping to avoid any loud noises that might further annoy her “hosts”.
 
The first object catching her attention was a small cage. Not the kind you’d keep a bird in, but maybe a mouse.
 
Again with the mice?
 
Looking at the other toys, Marie noticed the trend of mouse themed objects continued. A music box resembling a merry go round with mice donning little soldier hats, a stuffed mouse that looked a little too real to touch, and other trinkets scattered around that simply left Marie with more questions than answers.
 
Why mice? Did their son (she assumed it was a son) have a peculiar affection for them? Why were these in the attic and not behind the locked door?
 
Glancing from the cage to the window, Marie once again felt a bit crushed by her predicament. That was how she saw it, anyways, unlike Victor who seemed to think his bringing her here was the best thing to ever happen. Now that the threat of Victor and Isabel were gone, Marie felt a certain anger bubble up within her.
 
I was fine on my own, I didn’t ask for any of this!
 
It didn’t matter if the food was good, or if she was provided warmth and shelter. What was any of it worth if she couldn’t leave? She may as well have ended up in an orphanage after all, considering she preferred the term orphan to gift.
 
Suddenly not caring about making any noise, Marie walked to the pile of blankets and began to arrange her bed.
 
She’d find a way out of this gilded cage the next morning, one way or another.
 
However when the morning came, so did Isabel.
 
Marie was first awoken by loud banging, then the sound of Isabel’s voice.
 
“Wake up already! There is work to be done.” Isabel shouted from below, before banging again.
 
“Er- Coming… Madam!” Marie yelped, jumping up and quickly opening the trapdoor, before scampering down the ladder to meet Isabel.
 
When she made it to the bottom, she was greeted with a mop and bucket as Isabel roughly thrust them into her arms. Still blinking the sleep from her eyes, Marie shot Isabel a questioning glance, wondering where Victor had gone, and if he too was awoken by the racket.
 
As if reading her mind, Isabel snapped.
 
“Victor has already left, he wont be around to coddle you as much as yesterday. By God, if you are here to stay then you better earn it, now go clean the entrance hall and dining room you mucked up yesterday! I don’t want any disease or vermin entering my home.”
 
“…Yes Madam…”
 
“…And don’t touch that door.” Isabel said, pointing down the hall.
 
Marie nodded glumly and trudged downstairs; in that moment not even remotely caring about the mysterious door she was forbidden from.
 
I wouldn’t have made such a mess had I not been taken here in the first place you villain!
 
Upon further reflection however, pleasing her new mistress could provide a new opportunity for escape; Marie was doubtful she’d be able to simply run away what with Isabel watching her like a hawk. Though wether Isabel even wanted her here was somewhat questionable.
 
And so, Marie scrubbed and washed and scrubbed again, making sure to clean every last speck of mud and grime as best as she could; that being said, using a mop had been far harder than Marie anticipated. When Isabel finished her own chores and came to inspect her work, she grudgingly acknowledged Marie’s efforts.
 
“It’s… better than I thought. Maybe you aren’t useless after all.”
 
Marie inwardly winced at the harsh comment.
 
“Don’t think you are done just yet.” Isabel continued, “there is still silverware to polish and rugs to be beaten, and then of course dinner to prepare. Come this way now!”
 
Marie sighed, and resigned herself to the tasks at hand, firmly reminding herself why it was important not to get on anyone’s bad side yet.
 
All throughout the day, Isabel had something to say about Marie’s work, wether it be she had wasted too much time polishing, or hadn’t beaten the rugs enough to satisfy Isabel’s standards; By the time Victor had come home for supper, Marie was in too foul of a mood for much conversation, but did her best to be cordial.
 
“So lass, how’re ya liking this new life of yours?” Victor inquired after heaping yet another portion of potatoes on his plate.
 
No wonder he’s so stout.
 
“It’s… good. Thank you for providing the attic.” She took a bite out of her roast duck.
 
“Haha, no need to thank me lass, it’s the least we could do.” Victor gave Isabel a pointed look.
 
“…Indeed.”
 
The table went silent again. Isabel stabbed at her food as if she were irritated, and Marie wondered why she was always so serious and… angry. You’d have thought the world itself wronged her from the way she acted; That at least was something Marie could understand.
 
But still, she didn’t have to be so mean. Marie thought glumly, reminded of how even on the streets she attempted to be as kind as her nanny— former nanny, had been.
 
No, that was different. This is different. I won’t feel bad for people like Isabel and Victor! Ever.
 
Marie’s face soured at the ridiculousness of it all. Playing “family” with people who drug her into their home was never something she wanted, even when she was freezing in her little alley.
 
“Well then,” Victor said as he wiped his mouth, “Thank you for the meal ladies, I’ll be off to bed. I have a long day tomorrow. Good night, Isa, Char—Marie.” He rose from the table and smiled at Marie awkwardly. Marie in turn pasted a smile on her face, unsure of what else to do.
 
“Excuse me Victor, I was wondering if we could perhaps discuss some pressing matters.” Isabel angrily asked, also rising from the table.
 
Marie froze, surely the only thing Isabel wanted to discuss was her poor work that day? Or, Marie realized with growing horror, maybe Isabel recognized her dress despite the shabby condition it was in; She hadn’t been very careful when coming down this morning since she was in such a hurry! If that was the case… Marie didn’t even want to imagine what could happen. Her eyes darted around for the nearest exit, maybe she could catch them off guard if she bolted for the door?
 
“Ah…” Victor started, interrupting her train of thought. “Of course, I could spare a moment I suppose.” Victor turned to Marie, “Why don’t you go up to bed lass.”
 
Marie hurriedly left the room, grateful for the pardon.
 
Finally alone!
 
She ran up stairs as she was told, and smiled.
 
I can jump out the window! I’d have enough time to escape and be long gone before they ever knew!
 
Once she made it to the landing, Marie darted to the nearest window and felt a slight sense of vertigo. It was… higher than she thought it would be.
 
Maybe the front door is a better choice after all…
 
Creeping down the stairs, Marie began to hear what Victor and Isabel were arguing about.
 
“—on earth would you bring that orphan here!”
 
“Isa, darling, please-“

“Not another word Victor! You can’t do this to me!—“ Isabel took a deep breath, “—and… and yet you brought her here. An aristocratic brat on top of everything else! Did you really think I’d welcome her with open arms?” She cried.
 
Marie had almost made it all the way down the steps, just a little past the dining room and she’d be able to run out the front door…
 
“Isa— it’s… It’s time to move on now.”

“What!?” Isabel screeched. “How could?—Why on earth would you assume I wanted another child? As if I didn’t make it clear enough to you after our son died!”
 
“Isa—“

“Not that you would have noticed. You left me alone for weeks after, no comforting words, not even a sympathetic glance! You never sent for a coroner, a doctor… you just… left! Was this what you were doing during that time you left me alone?! Looking for stray aristocrats to take in? As if that were supposed to be a replacement!?”
 
Marie began to lightly walk through the hallway, creeping ever closer to the exit.
 
“I figured it would help you heal… to have some company while I was gone. And that lass is no aristocrat, she’d have been killed by now if she were.”

Isabel glared through her tears.
 
“Yes,” she hissed. “Because normal orphans are educated and have manners!”
 
Isabel gave a broken laugh, before her face fell in realization.

“Or… is that why you took her in the first place, because… because Charlie, is— was the same.” She choked out the name as if it hurt her to say it.

Victor only stared numbly at his distraught wife. Isabel’s eyes hardened when he gave no other reaction.  
 
“I’m going to get rid of that brat, Victor. I will not tolerate this like everything else.”
 
Isabel stormed towards the door. Before Marie could scamper past the dining room and out to safety, the door slammed open and hit Marie; sending her crashing to the floor.
 
Isabel glowered down at Marie in a mixture of shock and anger.
 
“Get. Out.”

Marie didn’t hesitate to pick herself up and sprint out of the house. Her head throbbed from the impact, and her shaking hands came away wet with blood after touching the ache. Pausing once she made it outside to recuperate, she began to realize it was snowing, thick snowflakes angrily swirled around her, covering the ground in a white blanket in no time at all; This is a blizzard, she realized in a haze of horror. Marie pondered for a second where to go, she needed shelter. Fast. But her alley was too far, she’d never make it. A realization dawned on Marie however, when she saw a small bird fly past her and across the bridge, likely seeking shelter in the woods beyond.
 
Gathering her strength, Marie ran across the bridge after the bird, cradling her head. Perhaps if she made it into the woods, she too could find some shelter to combat the cold and the wind; it was a half baked plan, but it certainly felt safer than hiding in a neighborhood full of people who despised her or wanted her as some kind of replacement child.
 
The blizzard had really begun to pick up, ferocious winds battered Marie as she staggered past the first few trees. She just needed to go a little further, she told herself.
 
Just a little further.
Marie pressed onwards, working her way deeper and deeper into the forest. Though the wind had considerably lessened, the eerie howling it made as it blew through the trees was frightening. Still, despite the shelter the forest provided, snow continued to bury the ground at an alarming rate. It was getting harder and harder to see what was in front of her. And it was so, so cold.
 
Just as Marie made it into what seemed to be a small glade, her foot caught on something. The ground rushed towards her at a dizzying speed and Marie thrust her arms out to break the fall, only to roughly roll down an incline before coming to a stop at the roots of an old oak tree; Somewhere along the way down, her cloak had been lost, fully exposing Marie’s green dress for the first time since she had fled her estate.
 
The snow did little to cushion her as she sprawled out on the frozen ground. Marie lay on her back, feeling foggy and bruised in a hundred places, and desperately trying to suck some air back into her lungs; but she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, it felt like the very blood in her veins had frozen as snow began to cover her body like a shroud.
 
Marie’s eyelids fluttered open briefly when she heard a sparrow cry out. The little bird from before, maybe? It was perched not to far from her on a bush, beady black eyes watching her with keen interest. Upon making eye contact, it fluttered closer, chirping a familiar little melody.
 
It brought her back to a long lost summer. Her nanny, Anne, had taken her outside to play in the garden, and Marie stumbled across a little nest in the ivy covered gate. Inside were three chirping baby birds, barely a few hours old. Before she could get a good look at them though, Anne had gently pulled her away and told her to leave them alone, saying that if the mother was too scared to return the chicks would surely die. Marie simply smiled and nodded, before running to her own mother.
 
Marie slowly blinked and shuddered a bit as the memory faded. She didn’t feel quite so cold anymore, a little warm, even. The ache in her head had all but faded away, leaving behind a numb, thick feeling. Still, She tried to ignore how her shallow wheezes sounded, or the stinging in her eyes, and focus purely on the sparrow’s song.
 
I don’t regret this. Marie reassured herself. I’d rather die here than live like some caged bird.
 
Some time passed with the sparrow never stopping it’s little melody, and eventually Marie’s eyes closed for the final time. Her last breath quickly swept away by the wind and high into the sky, and at last, little Marie was safe from the cruelty and ignorance of the world below.
 
As the last of her form gradually disappeared from sight, the sparrow flew into the town to see…
 
…A room, filled with stuffed mice and tears, and locked away as if to keep the sick tragedies from escaping…
 
…And a woman with a stern look in her eyes who shuddered at the cold of the storm outside her window, humming as she prepared a meal for two…
 
… And a man who joined his wife at the table, smiling at the dishes set out for breakfast as a small bird peered through the windows…
 
… And a barber, who grinned as he realized that the number of orphans loitering around his shop had gone down…
 
… And a little sparrow, who made a home among two graves in the chapel yard…
 
…And many summers later, a logger in the forest stumbled upon a child’s skeleton, pristine white and tenderly embraced in a tangle of roots and flowers. Horrified by the sight, he raced back to the city.
 
Before long, it was the talk of the town, people speculated what kind of tragedy could have caused a child to die alone in a forest as they strode past abandoned children. Men and women alike boasted about how they would have heroically come to the rescue while crossing the street to avoid giving to a starving beggar; While still others looked on with disgust, as they preferred their pets over the company of their own.
 
It truly seemed as if no one knew of little Marie at all, but as almost all things do, the gossip eventually died out…
 
Only the sparrows continued to sing.