“Elisbel, where are you off to?” asked the petite brunette, noticing her daughter near the front door.
“Where do you think? I told you yesterday I need to pick up a coat. Winter’s here, and I don’t have any outerwear. The girls mentioned a new shipment of coats is coming to the market today. Some might even be on sale.”
“Why don’t I go instead? What if you catch a cold running around without a jacket?”
“Mom, I’m not naked, and I’m not a little kid anymore.”
Her mother’s brow shot up in surprise.
“I mean my age,” the girl clarified.
“Elis, Elis,” the pregnant woman chided her daughter.
“Alright, Mom,” the girl said, planting a quick kiss on her displeased mother’s cheek. “I’m outta here.”
“You little whirlwind!” the dark-eyed woman muttered.
“Takes after you!”
“Go on, then! If you run into your brothers or your dad, tell them to come home early for lunch. I’ve roasted a duck.”
“Got it.”
Brimming with excitement, the girl darted out of the house into the crisp street air. For a moment, she paused, closing her eyes and breathing in the refreshing breeze, nearly purring with delight. The icy wind filled her lungs, giving her a sense of complete freedom, unshackled from any constraints. A fleeting illusion of omnipotence lifted her spirits. Nothing had really happened, yet Elisbel felt as content as a cat high on catnip.
Her barrel of honey got a spoonful of tar when she overheard the gossip of the local women perched on a bench by the neighboring house:
“Did you hear? They found a body in the woods yesterday.”
“A body? Dead?”
“No, Nyura, alive. Of course, dead!”
“I heard it was Risa they found.”
“No way! Poor thing.”
“I remember them with Elis, just tiny little things! They’d run to me buck-naked for strawberries,” an old woman sighed sadly.
“Hey! Elisbel, sweetheart, come over here!” Aunt Hata waved, trying to catch her attention.
The girl kept quiet about the fact that she couldn’t possibly have run naked to the old lady for strawberries. For one, they’d moved here when she was six. By that age, she was already walking herself to her dad’s work, not scampering half-naked through other people’s yards. And for another, Nyura never grew strawberries. The brunette had once interrogated the locals about it with the intensity of a detective. The verdict? The old lady never grew a thing in her garden, though she tried. Even dandelions wouldn’t take root there!
“Good afternoon, ladies.”
“So, how are you, dear?” Hata asked with a sly tone.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they found Marisol in the woods yesterday. Dead,” Nyura reminded her, instantly souring the girl’s mood.
All the lightness evaporated, replaced by a treacherous lump in her throat. Just that morning, the death of someone she knew had seemed like nothing more than a bad dream.
“Uh… sorry, ladies, but I’m… running late.”
“She’s a beauty, but odd, isn’t she, Hata?” they whispered behind Elis’s back as she hurried off.
“Yup! Lives in her own little world. At this rate, I’m worried we’ll never get her married off.”
“Don’t worry, friend. I saw with my own eyes how Alvin was making eyes at her.”
“You mean the one who’s built!” Nyura gestured at her bicep and patted her tricep.
Her companion nodded affirmatively.
“What a fool! She should drag a guy like that straight to the altar.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying!”
The old ladies continued to hash out the topic while a now-somber Elisbel hurried toward the market. She couldn’t believe that lively girl would never again show up to talk her out of chasing the dream she so desperately wanted to achieve.
“Elis, where are you headed?” called out Aunt Milis, the grandmother of the late Risa, snapping the girl out of her thoughts.
The woman stood behind her market stall with a forced smile and red-rimmed eyes. Her willpower and resilience were something to admire—Marisol had been her only family. So young, yet she’d left this world before her grandmother.
“Oh, I was looking to buy a coat.”
“Well, I’ve got some right here. A new batch just came in today. One sec!”
The old woman turned her back to the customer and started pulling out various packages. In the end, she produced seven coats of different styles and lengths, some with hoods and some without, but all in the same shade of red.
“Do you have any other colors?”
“Elis, red suits you so well. And these options are just gorgeous! Look at the fur lining inside…”
Aunt Milis kept trying to persuade her, while the sheriff’s daughter hesitated. On one hand, she didn’t want to refuse her friend’s grandmother; on the other, she wasn’t thrilled about earning the nickname “Little Red Riding Hood” all over again.
When they’d first moved to Nestville, her mom had bought her a red cloak. The new, colder climate meant the girl often pulled the red hood down over her nose. Some bullying boys came up with the silly nickname, and it spread through the town like wildfire. Every passerby greeted her as “Little Red” until she outgrew the cloak and tossed it out for good measure.
“How about I give you a discount, huh? Just one silver.”
Man, Aunt Milis was playing her trump cards!
“I’ll take this one,” Elis said with a resigned sigh, pointing to one of the longer coats and pulling a silver coin from her purse.
The old woman looked at her granddaughter’s friend with gratitude, took the coin, and handed over the coat.
Eyeing her purchase with disapproval, Elis tilted her head to the right, let out a loud sigh, and slipped the coat on.
“Oh, what a beauty—you’re a sight to behold. You’ll turn that big-city detective’s head for sure.”
“What detective?” Elis tensed.
“The one from the capital. He’s arriving today.”
“Don’t tell me it’s Master Artreo.”
Her dad hadn’t mentioned a word about this. Neither had her brothers. And they call themselves family! Traitors, heartless jerks, dream-crushers!
They knew how much she admired him, how she aspired to match his achievements, and they didn’t even tell her he was coming? What if this was her chance to get into Istrid Academy before she turned twenty? They didn’t think about her at all!
“I’m gonna give them a piece of my mind!”
“Be careful, dear,” Aunt Milis called after her.
Full steam ahead, the girl rushed toward the police station to let her family have it, not sticking around to hear the old woman finish:
“But… what Master? It’s Detective Branow who’s coming.”
When the furious girl burst into the police station, the local detainees flinched, pressing themselves against the wall. If there was one person they knew, it was Little Red. Every single one of them.
As the locals say, there’s no beast fiercer than Sheriff Edwin’s daughter. He catches criminals with kindness, gentleness, and care—not like this… lady. She’ll chase you down and humiliate you, the shameless menace.
Overall, Nestville had been a quiet town until recently. Petty pickpockets and rowdy drunks were the worst of it. That is, until Elisbel decided she wanted to outdo her father and follow in the footsteps of some famous detective.
After she publicly pantsed Cable for messing with a friend by stealing a gift meant for his girlfriend, every man in town started giving her a wide berth. And the strength in that tiny frame—wow! Big Sam, the town’s toughest guy, lost to her in a sparring match. Now he walks around like a kicked puppy. Him—the strongest man in Nestville—beaten by this little spitfire.
But there are upsides to Little Red’s antics. Crime rates have dropped even lower, and Uncle Stil’s tavern is raking in profits. No surprise there! Plenty of folks needed some liquid therapy after crossing paths with her: good drinks, tasty food, and sympathetic listeners who’ve been through the same ordeal.
“Where’s Dad?” she barked at the equally startled forensic examiner who’d just walked in.
“Elis, uh… I gotta run! Work just came up.”
“Who are you kidding? You running off to your side gig, Stan?”
The police worker, who hadn’t conducted a single examination in his life, earned barely one silver a month. Naturally, that kind of pay didn’t stretch far, forcing the poor guy to look for extra work. So, he became a pathologist, earning a whole gold coin monthly, passing as a forensic examiner here and showing up daily just to “check in.”
Deaths from illness and oddities were common enough around here, and each verdict paid, so you couldn’t blame him.
“No, no,” the brunette man perked up, momentarily forgetting his fear of the uninvited guest. “I finally got some work in my actual field!”
“You’re this excited about Risa’s death?” Elis asked, her tone dripping with judgment.
“No, of course not. I feel bad for the poor girl, but thanks to her, I get to work in my specialty, contribute to an investigation!”
This was exactly why the girl wanted to become a detective. Forensic examiners were a little… off.
“So, where are they?” the brunette changed the subject.
With a resigned sigh, the man answered:
“Where they always are.”
“Thanks, Stanley!”
“Wait, hold on! Who exactly are you examining?”
“Elis, do we really have to do this?” he asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.
“We do, buddy, we do.”
“But you’re a girl!”
“And?”
“What if you faint?”
“Need me to remind you where you took me on our first date?”
“The morgue,” he said in one breath, as if it were a popular spot for couples, this hopeless romantic.
Fresh out of Istrid Academy, the ambitious young man had arrived in Nestville for the first time. He was the type who lived for his work, but he wasn’t immune to human desires: Stan was on the hunt for a sweetheart. The antisocial forensic examiner, to his misfortune, had no idea what kind of person the sheriff’s daughter was. The poor guy didn’t even notice the sympathetic look from Sheriff Edwin when he mentioned he planned to ask his youngest out on a date.
Lacking experience with living people, the young man had read in some book that the perfect date spot was one both parties would enjoy. Naturally, his workplace came to mind.
With flowers in hand, dressed in his best lab coat, and a smile on his face, the naive guy knocked on the Blackwool family’s door. He waited and waited until a short woman opened it.
“Good evening! Who are you here for?” the woman asked.
“Uh… Er… Um… Is E-Elisbel home?” the young man stammered, nervous.
“Oh! Ed told me about you. Don’t worry, we haven’t said a word to Elis,” the brunette winked. “Honey, it’s for you!”
“Coming!” the daughter shouted.
And there she was—slightly taller than her mother but still short compared to her peers.
“Lovely Elisbel! Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”
“Uh… are you really asking me out?” Little Red asked, skeptical.
“Y-yes,” the naive young man replied, confused by her doubt.
“Then I’m in!” the girl answered with enthusiasm.
The whole way there, he couldn’t take his eyes off her: so gentle, beautiful, and upbeat. Stan couldn’t get enough and thought to himself, “How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve this? I must’ve saved the world in a past life.”
When they reached the morgue, there wasn’t a hint of negativity from the girl. The brunette let out a sigh of relief, having braced for screams, curses, or even tears. But no, she just asked:
“This is the place?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Awesome! I’ve always wanted to check it out!”
The guy was floored, while Little Red skipped up to the door, opened it, and sang politely:
“After you, sir.”
As they started discussing what might have caused a person’s death, tossing around theories and examining evidence, it hit the naive guy: “This is the one.”
You’d think the poor sap would’ve started questioning things right then and there, but nope, he just glowed with happiness. Well, as they say, you learn from your mistakes.
By the second date, when the girl took him into the woods for a hunt, he started to suspect something was off. I won’t get into what they did out there—it’s not for the faint of heart. After that, Stan, like any sensible person, decided to steer clear of Little Red. He avoided her like the plague.
No, there was nothing romantic about it, but… she’s a scary girl (not in looks), obsessed with investigations.
“You know, Elis, dealing with you costs more than it’s worth,” Stan said, dead serious. “Just go to your dad.”
“Come on, Stanley! I’m not letting you off that easy. Or maybe I’ll just tell everyone we’re dating,” the dark-eyed girl decided to resort to blackmail.
On one hand, the forensic examiner wouldn’t lose anything by it. On the other, there’d be whispers and sideways glances. At least no one would get too close or bother him. But finding a normal girl around here? Fat chance.
“Fine, let’s go. You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”
“Nope!”