A Little Girl In The Middle Of Nowhere Lost Her Happy Thought

like two newborn calves.

So that white night just before

Christmas, spent in the animal warmth and

under the starlight, it marked as a line drawn on the ground, like a street in the snow, the new life and the living path of the two innocent little hearts.

The Moon, enlightened for a quarter,

came out to a split in the stable wood, on the side where the two children were sleeping. Its clear light, like a comet star, radiated their redemptive faces.

Christmas was by now!

But the animals did not seem very interested. For them, the next morning,

it would be one morning like every other one, with the usual things of all time.

2

Meanwhile, in the luxurious Ladurée House.

Little Mary Jane’s Missing family former home, now owned by her mother’s stepsister and now adoptive stepmother... That is: Madame Tussauds,

the Gendarmerie had come,

commanded by Commissioner C. Monet.

What a something' to happen to me, a few days before Christmas,

Oh my God!

What are the neighbors going to think? What will they say about this absurd story? Damnable!

The wicked and sour Madame Tussauds, was babbling and begging loudly

to be heard by Commissioner Monet

and by Reverend Dumas.

Do you have any idea, Madame, where the children could've gone to find refuge?

Does Mary Jane have friends or relatives where she might be hiding?

Commissioner C. Monet

asked with a blank look on his face,

as if he were following one of his thoughts.

No, I have no idea! The little girl has no family or friends in the world!

Nobody’s going to stand that ungrateful little brat! If it weren’t for her poor unfortunate mother!

Madame Tussauds sighed continuing her painful recitation. Then she slowly started to talk again.

Ah! I’m too kind-hearted... I should have left her at the orphanage!

So she would have learned what

the hand feeding you means.

Then? Mary Jane is not your daughter; and whose? If I may ask?

the Commissioner inquired, attentively, following the movements of all

in the room around him.

She is the daughter of my stepsister and her husband, the infamous Count Ladurée.

My sister died of a strange and unknown debilitating illness.

Her beauty faded day by day,

she slowly went out,

as if carried away by the wind.

About the Count, I guess, you well know

the story of his diabolical madness.

The Little Girl was brought to the orphanage.

I still did not live here and when I came back, I immediately had the good heart to take the baby with me.

Madame Tussauds said, while Reverend Dumas nodded with his hands clasped in a monotonous prayer.

I'm not completely informed about this nasty story, please Madame, would you tell it to me?

And so saying the commissioner C. Monet

moved his chair and sat in wait

to hear this strange story.

- It all began with the slow death

of my adoptive stepsister.