It was May 5th 1898, a month of heavy rainfall. The wind was a little stronger than it had been on previous days, but the moon shone brightly.

In the dining room of the Kazuma family, Ruth Kazuma, the first grandchild, was picking up eating bowls and dishes that had been used during the night meal from the dining mat.

Her dress sleeves were folded back, and her hair was in a bun, with thick, dark braids that resembled a three-knot rope. Her skin was extra dark, resembling the cocoa bean cakes that were usually brought from the city by her aunt during festival seasons.

After carefully picking everything off the mat and placing it in a larger bowl, Ruth wiped the mat clean and stood up to carry the dishes and bowls back to the kitchen, which was outside the house but across from the back door.

On reaching the back door, Ruth placed the larger bowl down and went ahead to remove the bolt from the door. As she opened the door outwards, a gust of wind swept in, causing goosebumps to appear on her skin and her body hairs to stand up. This made her stiffen her shoulders and shake her head, a sense of fever running all over her briefly.

"Why is the weather acting up now? Could it be that something is about to happen?" Ruth asked herself, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any clue, but nothing suspicious was in the vicinity.

The moonlight was starting to fade, so she moved her right foot forward to the next stair, looked around, and quickly rushed to the kitchen being careful to miss any step.

She pushed the kitchen door open on reaching it with her right elbow. The kitchen, dimly lit with an oil lamp that had been left on, was a little warmer.

Ruth was able to quickly feel less colder. She arranged the main kitchen table and placed the dirty bowls on the other side, covering them with a basket to prevent rats from running over them.

After noticing that everything was in place, she blew the lamp out and moved to the door to bolt it from outside as a way of securing against the winds and animals.

Just then, the back door to the main house slammed shut, startling her.

"Another ghost at this time?" Ruth joked as she carefully bolted the kitchen door for a few seconds as the inner lockers were a bit loose and had to fastened with extra effort from the outside.

"Stupid Door...." Ruth kept muttering to herself as she struggled with fastening the lockers on the door.

She then heard a loud banging knock on the gate and moved her eyes around, wondering if anyone was monitoring her as bandits in the previous months had been going around different homes luring people out of their houses to steal their valueables by holding one member captive.

But before she could take a step towards the back door to open it for herself, she heard two voices exchanging greetings. One was for her grandmother, Mrs. Deena, and the other was an unknown male voice.

Ruth tiptoed to the side of the house that led to the front part and stood there listening to their conversation. Her slim body shape and height of 161 cm blended well with the corner, disguising her. There was a small curve to the corner of the house that gave off a round outer look from the front side of the house, like that of half a circle.

"When should we pick up the dead body, according to your guidance?" Deena asked the man at the gate, whose body figure Ruth could not see as he remained on the outside of the premises.

"Any day after tomorrow, but not beyond a week, unless the body reacts to nature and becomes a problem for us," the man answered.

"I will keep you updated." Deena replied and there was a moment of silence for some good seconds.

The noise of a horse cart riding away was heard after a few minutes later. Deena then slowly pushed the gate back and bolted it, being careful not to make any extra noise.

She walked calmly back to the house, and Ruth was quick to hurry back to the back door, open it slowly, and slide in quietly, avoiding any suspicion about whether she had been outside all that time.

She remained in the inside mini kitchen, which was close to the back door, and went on to arrange it.

"What time are you going to bed?" Deena asked Ruth, her eyes analyzing the back door bolt and the windows.

"After filling the pot with drinking water for tomorrow," Ruth replied, hoping that Deena would say something about the dead body.

"Alright, have a good night. Please wake up early tomorrow and attend to the shop," Deena replied, her face giving a small smile to Ruth.

"I will do so, Mother. Have a good night," Ruth replied. After Deena had left, Ruth sighed out, and a wide smirk appeared on her face as she scratched her crown.

"Whose dead body could it be? Is it a friend she doesn't want us to know, or someone bad from her past?" She continued filtering the water into the pot, and when everything was done, she gently pulled the mini kitchen door to the bolt and pushed the locker in.

The eerie feeling from outside had long gone, but one oil lamp at the very end of the corner of the corridor to her bedroom was still lit, yet it was supposed to be off to maintain only one lamp in the hallway, which stood in the middle of the corridor.

Ruth went towards the lamp and blew the light out and moved her right fingers around her neck, massaging around the shoulders where she felt some pain. On sighing out, Ruth heard Reena and Janelle, her mother's younger sister, kind of arguing in a low tone. Reena was in Janelle's bedroom, where she slept with her young son, Brenan who was about a year old.