Stellina

Mysterious Melody

Her fingers brushed across the books, feeling every engraved letter or worn leather cover. Every so often, Curt would glance in her direction, as if to make sure she wasn't shoplifting. Yet Lina ignored him, instead admiring the aroma of musty book pages and the way the thawing sun highlighted the dust particles permeating from them.

Whenever Lina would come across a particularly fascinating or peculiar title, she would yank it from the shelf, causing a cloud of dust to spew out, and rifle through its pages for a certain letter. Finally, after several hours of meticulous searching, she heaved a frustrated sigh and collapsed on the ground, now at eye level with the bottom shelf. Her fingers trembled with exhaustion.

"I would try that scarlet one. It is one of my personal favorites," Curt said, suddenly towering over her.

Lina jumped up with a start, then smoothed her gray skirt. "I'm not sure if that's really what I am looking for," she wrote, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the puny book. She would be shocked if someone would bother to hide even a smaller letter in it.

"I think you might be pleasantly surprised if you tried it." He slipped the book into her hand.

Lina put her left hand defiantly on her hip, then let it fall to her side as she halfheartedly fingered through the pages. Much to her shock, however, about a third of the way in, a little slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Holding her breath, she bent down to pick it up. Her heart leaped in excitement.

"Is it okay if I read a couple of pages to see if I would like to purchase it?" she wrote, only to find the bookstore owner had already left. She merely shrugged and proceeded to unfold the letter. She could practically taste the urgency and excitement on her lips as she read the words.

Dearest Marie,

I used to love Marseilles. Oh, how I loved the sea and the sailboats and strolling along the colorful storefronts with my darling Birdie. Yet now, it is just a reminder of everything I loved and no longer have. How can I stay here now, Marie? I know you'll never understand moving away from our family, but you have to understand why I simply cannot stay here.

I ran into Birdie's old friend, Clementine, of whom I'd gotten to know a bit when things were still good between Birdie and me. A kind young woman, but rather odd. Anyway, after informing her of the news (of which, of course, she was already aware of--apparently Birdie had the decency to inform her friend that she was leaving her husband yet not the man himself), she reluctantly agreed to help me out. Since I will have no stable address after today, she will be the way of contact between us. Her full name is Clementine Vidal. I've sent you the address in the mail, so hopefully you'll receive it soon.

Yours,

Byron

Lina yelped inside with excitement. Most of the fears and doubts she had before dissipated, replaced with a buzz of curiosity. Shoving the book back into the shelf, she walked over to the counter, forcing a polite smile on her lips. Finally, a letter with a lead. Even if she didn't know this woman's address, she was sure she could find it.

She slid a note across the desk to Curt. "Excuse me, but do you know where I could find a Madame Clementine Vidal?"

He wrinkled his brow as he skimmed over the words. Clearing his throat, he replied gruffly, "What do you want with that woman?"

The blood roared in Lina's ears as she bit her lip, desperately trying to come up with something to say. Shades of gray and indigo swirled around in her head. "It's a private but quite important matter I have to discuss with her. I was told she could help me with something."