Sitting on a snow-covered bench in December, a woman was staring at the pale blue sky. She watched the birds fly and titter while clutching a letter tightly in her gloved fist. A single tear dripped down her pale cheek. Suddenly, she stood up and looked at the celebrating town. The paeans of praise and triumph released by the children flooded the air. She stared blankly at them for a minute and then walked away, leaving behind a mauve-colored glove. The cold mist started pooling around her figure, slowly erasing her image in the distance.



Dominic was tired. He was at his grandmother's mansion in Britain, lugging his heavy bags up the enormous stairs. His day was work-filled and boring. He had to listen to his father's repetitive rigmarole and drive himself to the airport, which took almost an hour due to the heavy traffic. Security at the airport was tighter than usual due to an escapee from the nearby prison. They were told to be on the lookout for a woman with black hair who was wearing gloves. It's an odd description, but at least they had one. It was somewhat concerning that such a thing could happen in Singapore of all places, but that was the least of his problems. When he arrived at his grandmother's house, he was greeted by her pleasant yet odd butler and was given a warm welcome to her house. He hadn't seen her yet, so he assumed she was at her mysterious club. Her weird friends were clairvoyant fortune-tellers. He had never met them and for a good reason. He'd heard of her escapades with them and wanted to be no part of that 'club.' His grandmother, Dominique Thornton, was quite a popular woman. She was a successful detective who disinterred many shocking revelations in her prime. She was also quite beautiful back then, or so he was told. He was named after her because of his uncanny resemblance to her, Dominic Thornton, also known as Twilight, a name matching hers, Starlight. They had peculiar choices of names, something not surprising knowing their similar personalities. He was a detective known for the many dangerous cases he had solved in his career. They both had ebony black hair, the most peculiar blue eyes, and the same small nose. Dominic's moon-shaped birthmark on his forehead was the one difference between their looks. He was told he got his birthmark from his grandfather, a man with a thick veil of mystery formed around him. He had never met him, and neither had his father. He had seen a portrait hanging in his grandmother's study, a large, delicate piece painted many years ago. It showed that his grandfather was blond with the same mark on his forehead, a gift from god. In the portrait, he had a veil on, but the veil was see-through enough to show his black, almond-shaped eyes. He was told that his grandfather had mysteriously disappeared before his father was born. He never asked about him because his grandmother was touchy on that subject. He had seen his grandfather's fancy sepulcher only once when he was five. He snapped out of his stupor after seeing the familiar ornate wooden doors towering over him. He pushed the door open and saw his old room filled with nostalgia. His room was unlike the other rooms in the house. It was a forest green color. His grandma had painted the entire house a mauve color, although he was unsure why. He scanned the room and saw what he was looking for. He picked up the carafe on his coffee table, filled with the finest wine money could buy, and decanted it into the glass next to it. He was a bit of a wine fanatic, though he wouldn't call it an addiction, more like an interesting hobby. Then he suddenly sat up, remembering the entire reason he came here. He was here to glean information from his grandmother on the most important case in his career. The case was over 70 years old. His grandmother had also once tried to solve that case but dropped it and quit her job due to an unfortunate circumstance. However, she didn't have to worry about money because she had gradually accumulated a large amount over the past few years. The case was about a man, Desmond Hampton, who tried to dissever his arm from his own body, and when the police were called, the man jumped off the roof of his penthouse, killing himself instantly. No one knew exactly why the man tried to remove his arm. Previous detectives just brushed the case off as insanity. A few years later, something similar happened in the same building, causing panic among civilians and resulting in several detectives being assigned to the case. However, a few weeks after the rush of detectives signing up to solve the case, they all quit, not giving a single reason. He was the only one who didn't quit, so his boss sent him to his grandmother to find information. She refused to give him the details over the phone and insisted he come here. One of the few details of the case he was given was that the first man was seen with a woman in a blood-red coat and mauve gloves a few days before his death. According to a witness, he saved her from an older man trying to proselytize her into his cult. After that incident, they got closer, and they were seen together until the day he died. From then on, the mysterious woman was suspected of being behind his death. His mentor believed otherwise and tasked him to find evidence against the claim and exonerate her from the blame. He stared at the wine glass in his hand and dumped it down his throat, the feeling relieving him. He wanted to relax for now. He removed his shoes and slipped on the slippers left by the door. Dominic realized he needed something to do to keep his mind off the case, so he started unpacking. He heard a knock on his chamber door as he took out his pressed shirts. He got up and walked to the entrance of his room. He pulled the doors open and saw the servants assembling in front of the entrance to his room. They all smiled and greeted him pleasantly. He recognized almost all of them except a few new hires standing at the back of the crowd. He talked with them for a few minutes before they had to leave and return to work. He continued unpacking until he looked out the window and saw how dark it had become. Dominic left his room and looked for Albert, the butler, to ask if his grandmother had come home yet. When he found Albert, he told him that his grandmother came home late often and that there was no reason to worry. He made a sound of expostulation but left it at that. Dominic shrugged off his worry, believing Albert, and headed to his room. He changed into his nightclothes and slipped into his clean, soft bed. He started drifting off to sleep, and when he fell into a deep sleep, he heard a loud clangor ringing. He blearily tried to open his eyes, but it felt as if they were glued shut. He tried again, and his eyes opened to a bright room filled with people. He was confused and started panicking about why strangers were in his room. They saw him open his eyes and started yelling for someone, a doctor. He then looked around the room and realized it wasn't his room in his grandmother's house. Instead, it looked like an expensive hospital and not one in London. He flicked his eyes over at the person closest to him. He realized it was his mother, with his father standing beside her. He asked them why he was there. His mother started crying hysterically while his dad stared at him with grief pooled in his eyes and told him he was in the hospital. Dominic repeated his question to them: why was he here? His dad's face became serious, and he told him Dominic had been in a coma for three months. Three months! Why? Was it serious? He asked them the questions that were echoing in his head, and they said that he fell off the balcony of their house and hit his head on the railing. Dominic was confused. He told them that wasn't the last thing he remembered and recalled going to bed in his grandmother's house. They looked at each other and looked back at him. They told him that his grandmother had died three years ago. His eyes widened in shock. He was filled with a rush of sadness and pain. He felt like he had been stabbed in the heart. The doctors rushed in and ushered his parents out. The rest was a blur: getting check-ups, answering questions, and choking down bitter medicine. As the doctors left, his parents reentered the room and told him they would take him home. They said something along the lines of "Don't worry" and "We'll take care of you until you get better." Dominic, having come to terms with the fact that the reality he experienced in his coma was fake, smiled to himself, ridiculing his large imagination, and lay back down on the crunchy hospital mattress. He didn't notice the mauve-colored glove sitting on his side table as if trying to tell the now-sleeping Dominic something. Something urgent yet unimportant to the dreaming Dominic.