After spending several minutes inside the shop, the man exited and looked around for Rose. Not spotting her, he got into his car and drove off, hoping to find her along the way. However, Rose was nowhere to be seen, which led him to eventually steer in another direction.
Meanwhile, Rose had detoured to another store, where she encountered only individual pastries, so she bought just two. Unlike at the previous shop, the staff here treated her nicer, but because she preferred not to walk too much, she favored the other place.
Over in the apartment of the kind-hearted Mrs. Anahera, a much-anticipated visitor had brought her joy. It was her son, Claramond—the very same man Rose had seen in the store.
"Indeed... I must confess I wanted to punch that man," said Claramond as he assisted his mother with setting the table.
"Oh heavens. How rude, poor girl. What did you say she was like?" Anahera inquired as she finished cooking.
"Rude and ill-mannered," responded Claramond.
"Not the man! The girl!" Anahera corrected, prompting Claramond to laugh.
"Ah, clarity is key," he joked, heading toward the kitchen.
"Ah, you!" laughed Anahera.
"Well, she was... I must admit, a beautiful girl. A very shy redhead who didn't speak," Claramond explained.
Anahera was pleasantly surprised by his description and smiled before bringing the food to the table.
"By the way, who else is coming?" Claramond asked since Anahera had requested he set the table for three.
"Oh, it's a friend of mine. I think you'll like meeting her. Her name's Rosemary," Anahera informed him.
"I see. You always have such wise friends. How do you know her?" Claramond probed.
"She's our neighbor," said Anahera. Just then, someone knocked on the door, prompting Anahera to answer it.
Claramond was busy taking more pans of food to the table when he looked towards the door and once again came face-to-face with Rose.
"Come in, come in, you shouldn't have bothered bringing those pastries," Anahera greeted her.
With her head lowered, Rose stepped inside and made her way to the dining room, her clothing changed, but her hair still damp. Lifting her head and catching sight of Claramond, her embarrassment was evident as she swiftly lowered her gaze again.
"Son, look. This is Rosemary, our neighbor. Rose, meet my son, Claramond," Anahera said, introducing them.
"A pleasure, Rosemary," said Claramond, taking her hand gently and leaning in to give a soft kiss. Rose turned red and nervously withdrew her hand quickly, their apologies swiftly followed as they noticed her discomfort.
The three of them sat down to eat, with Anahera and Claramond talking about various topics, trying to gradually include Rose. Due to embarrassment and fear, she didn't speak and was nervous.
Rose remained silent throughout dinner, and everything was calm. After a while, she decided to leave, and they let her go without further ado.
As Claramond and Anahera cleared the table, Anahera spoke about Rose.
"She went mute a little over a year ago; she's been living alone, poor thing. Her illness causes others to look down on her, and she finds it hard to interact with other people," Anahera explained.
"Autism, right?" Claramond inquired.
"Exactly. How did you know?" Anahera asked.
"She has several tells... However, I've never seen anyone with that behavior before," said Claramond.
"Her family probably abandoned her here because of it," Anahera speculated.
"They abandoned her?" Claramond said, surprised.
"Yes, those wealthy Farrells... they bought her the apartment and send her money to keep her away," Anahera disclosed.
"Rosemary... Farrell... I think... I remember where else I knew her from..."
...
Earlier that day at the store:
Claramond made his way to the dessert section and there spotted Rose looking at cakes, feeling a sense of familiarity as though he had seen her before, which prompted him to approach.
Upon seeing her face, he was even more stunned because now she seemed even more familiar, but from where?
...
"Know her? How?" Anahera asked.
"A decade ago... when I first started as a psychologist... The Farrells brought in a young red-haired girl... She had a severe case of autism, and they wanted me to cure her like magic," Claramond shared.
"I see... Poor girl. She's endured so much," said Anahera...
In the meantime, Rose was out on the balcony of her apartment. She sat on the floor, sketching in a notebook on her lap. When stressed, she often turned to drawing; it helped her greatly.
She usually drew portraits of people she had seen, boasting significant talent. One thing that stood out about her was a photographic memory, coupled with her excellent drawing skills, which allowed her to capture a person's likeness from a single sighting.
As she continued to draw, she noticed that it had started to rain again. She quickly stood up, leaving her notebook aside to stick her head out the balcony and let the rain soak her face.
Next door, Claramond was unpacking his belongings when he glanced out the window and immediately spotted Rose getting wet in the rain, which piqued his curiosity.
She seemed joyous in the deluge, and rightly so. The rain helped her recall her most distant and happiest memories, and she certainly relished the experience.
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