When Bell woke the next morning, his grandfather and Louise had already left the cottage some time ago.
He noticed a few scattered matchsticks on the floor, and beside them lay a small coin, resting quietly.
That was the reward he had set aside for the golden-haired girl who had walked him home.
Bell picked up the coin and slipped it into his pocket, then sighed deeply.
"How foolish she is…"
"No doubt she will be harshly scolded at home… She wasted so many matches."
Pushing open the door, he was met with a pure white scene glazed in frost.
The snowstorm had calmed, leaving behind two sets of footprints on the ground—one larger, one smaller—heading toward the town.
Between them, the paw prints of some animals marked the path, as if they had shared the journey.
Bell wasn't sure if it was a trick of his mind or not, but he noticed his eyesight was far clearer than the day before.
Even his own body felt sturdier, less cold, more resistant to the frost.
Yet his stomach twisted painfully with hunger, nearly folding into itself from emptiness.
'What's happening to me? Is it because I didn't eat enough yesterday?'
Perhaps… the food had barely sufficed for three people.
There was no food left in the cottage, so Bell picked up the coin Louise had left on the floor and resolved to go into town to buy some stale bread.
But as soon as he entered the shop, he exclaimed in surprise, "Sir, where is the stale bread? How could it have sold out so quickly?"
Bell stood on tiptoe, barely reaching the height of the bakery counter. He scrutinized the meager selection with growing concern, but found no stale bread—the cheapest item in the store—whatsoever.
The baker, recognizing the foolish boy as the old carpenter's grandson, said, "Bell, I think you've lost track of time! Go see the clockmaker—now the afternoon has come."
Bell's mouth fell open in astonishment. "The afternoon? Impossible!"
He hurried to the old clockmaker's shop and saw the clock's hand pointing to four o'clock in the afternoon.
He had slept… a very long time.
'How did I sleep so long?'
His empty stomach allowed no time for pondering. He bought a loaf of bread, a little more expensive, but barely enough to fill the void inside him.
Since he had no work, Bell decided to return to the tavern where he usually listened to the traveling storytellers…
It was his only source of knowledge about this world, the world of fairy tales.
On his way, he passed once again by the private library where he had been turned away before.
Instinctively, he looked up at the sign hanging on the door…
And read clearly: "No pets allowed."
"Huh?!"
He blinked and rubbed his eyes in disbelief—he had actually read it!
Until yesterday, he hadn't understood a single letter…
'Could it be that my ability to read appeared because I saved the little match girl?'
He hadn't done anything remarkable yesterday… except that.
He hurried toward the library door, but the guard stopped him as before.
"Do you now understand what the sign says?"
Bell answered confidently, "Of course… it says: No pets allowed."
The guard's eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't believe this ragged boy had suddenly learned to read.
Yet there was nothing wrong with what Bell said—especially since the library owner had indeed instructed him to learn the words.
Still, the guard said firmly, "No one can prove you're telling the truth… Unless my master grants you permission, you shall not enter."
Bell sighed…
'I cannot storm the place by force… and if I tried to use my fist, it would reach only…'
He shook his head, mocking himself. It was useless.
'Even in the world of fairy tales… there are those who do not keep their word.'
He turned the corner of the street—and there, once again, was the golden-haired girl with the torn apron, Louise.
What he saw made his chest tighten.
She was barefoot…
Neither wearing the shoes he had given her, nor even the old, large slippers.
She sold her matches steadily, standing firm against the biting winter cold.
As she called out to passersby, she happened to turn—and their eyes met.
At that moment, Bell noticed her right cheek swollen, a dark shadow beneath her eyes.
She gasped in distress, quickly averted her gaze, and ran away toward a narrow alley.
Bell did not hesitate for a moment—he sprinted after her.
"Louise! Why are you running away?"
Within moments, he caught her arm, and they stood face to face.
Her voice was choked with tears: "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
Between sobs, the story began to unravel.
After she returned home, her father searched her matches, as was his habit…
Finding some missing, and in her apron only a single coin… while in her hand she held a pair of shoes that seemed expensive for their means.
Her father accused her of stealing money to buy the shoes, beating her mercilessly. Her mother took the shoes from her, saying: "These shoes are not yours!"
As punishment, Louise's mother did not only confiscate the new shoes, but also took away the worn, large slipper, forcing her out barefoot to sell matches.
"When you sell the matches in your pocket, you may return home."
Her mother's cold words pressed against Louise's heart like ice.
She had fled from Bell earlier because she felt guilty.
She had failed to take care of the shoes her friend had given her… she felt she had let him down.
"Louise… are these really your parents?"
Bell asked in shock. He could not imagine parents so cruel—especially in a world meant to be a fairy tale.
The little girl nodded silently.
Her grandmother was the only one who loved her, but she had passed away long ago.
"Louise… if you don't manage to sell your matches tonight, what will you do?"
Bell asked gently.
She whispered, looking at the ground:
"I don't know… maybe I'll just sit in this corner until morning…"
Her cracked feet rubbed against each other, her expression full of a quiet certainty that she wouldn't sell a single match.
Growl~
Her stomach rumbled fiercely with hunger; the last food she had eaten was what she shared with Bell yesterday.
Without hesitation, he pulled out the remaining piece of bread in his hand and offered it to her.
"Come with me… let's live together. We are friends, aren't we?"
For a moment, Bell felt like one of those bad tricksters in stories…
A small boy trying to lure a little girl with a piece of bread.
Louise lifted her head quickly, her eyes clouded with both surprise and gratitude… but she did not reach out her hand.
"Last night… your grandfather wasn't pleased… because I ate your food… I don't want to eat your food again…"
She whispered weakly.
"Of course, we're friends… but…"
She loved that little wooden cottage, where she found peaceful sleep she hadn't known in a long time.
And she had found a friend there… named Bell.
He returned her slipper, gave her bread, and then gifted her new shoes.
After her grandmother, no one had treated her with such kindness as he had.
But that cottage did not belong to Bell alone…
His grandfather lived there too—and it had been clear from the night before that he was not fond of having Louise around.
Perhaps because he'd had to share his food with her…
Or perhaps… because he feared the girl would be yet another burden.
And so… Louise had left behind her matches and the coin—even if it meant another beating—just to avoid troubling Bell any further.
Bell spoke in a low voice:
"Louise… if you stay out here tonight… your body will freeze, and you'll die from the cold…"
She raised her head and looked up at the sky…
New snow had begun to fall again.
She knew all too well what awaited her if she stayed out here. She had no shelter.
For a moment, she thought she saw a star glitter in the distance…
Perhaps it was her grandmother watching over her.
Last night, she had decided to follow her grandmother to the sky…
But Bell's appearance had given her something she never expected…
A small hope to live.
Like the match she had struck the night before…
It had lit a tiny warmth in her heart.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her trembling voice broke:
"Bell… Bell… I… I want to live…"
* * *
In the wooden cottage, the old man looked at the children with disapproval.
He dropped the heavy ladle into the pot, splashing hot broth around.
He said in a frustrated tone:
"Bell… you foolish boy. There's no hope for you."
He hadn't prepared much food to begin with. They were poor, barely scraping by.
Louise shrank back, frightened…
A heavy feeling gripped her—she didn't belong here. She moved to leave.
But Bell took her hand.
He wouldn't let her go.
If she left tonight, her death was certain.
Bell said firmly:
"Grandpa… I want to learn carpentry from you. I can work, and I'll earn money. Please… don't make her leave. She has nowhere else to go."
Bell knew… he was still a child, and he couldn't protect Louise on his own.
His grandfather shook his head and sighed:
"You've ruined so much wood before… I can't waste more just to teach you."
He gave the boy a mocking glance… This boy was terribly clumsy.
And ever since he returned from the outside world three months ago, he had been talking nonsense—as if his foolishness had only grown worse.
The old man wasn't sure how much longer he had left to live, but he knew he wouldn't be able to provide for his grandson forever…
And now the boy had brought home a girl!
But Bell lifted his head and said with confidence:
"Grandpa, I'm not the same anymore… Last night, when I saved Louise… I felt a mysterious light surround me. I'm not stupid anymore. And it's because of Louise… She's special."
He knew that people in this world believed in superstitions and miracles—
And the easiest way to explain what couldn't be explained… was to call it magic.
When the old man heard those words, he froze.
'Since when does this boy know anything about such things? He didn't even understand the word before… has he really changed?'
He picked up a few scattered pieces of wood and handed them to Bell:
"Make me a chair from these. If you succeed… I'll believe you, and she can stay. But if you fail… the girl leaves tomorrow."
It wasn't a hard task—just fitting, nailing, assembling… something very simple.
Truthfully, he could've done it even without pretending there was any "mysterious light."
But since arriving in this world, Bell hadn't learned a thing about carpentry from his grandfather in the past three months.
And yet now… it felt as if he'd been doing it his whole life.
When the chair was finished in his hands, the old man stood before it in disbelief.
The boy who hadn't known how to drive a single nail… had crafted a chair of such quality.
The grandfather dropped to his knees, his eyes brimming with tears.
In a hoarse voice, he whispered:
"What a relief… My foolish grandson has been healed… it's a miracle…"
Beside him, Louise wept bitterly, clutching Bell's hand tightly.
She whispered through her tears:
"Thank you… thank you, Bell… thank you, Grandpa… I… I…"
Her voice faltered—she couldn't finish the sentence.
Her wish had finally come true…
She would stay, in this small cottage.
Bell, however, remained silent, lost in thought.
He alone knew… that everything said was a lie.
'If Louise were really special… she wouldn't have had to sleep in the streets.'
But starting tonight… she was no longer that child on the verge of freezing to death.
As for Bell… he still wasn't sure if miracles truly existed.
But he knew one thing for certain—what happened after that night wasn't natural.
Suddenly… he could read.
Suddenly… he could craft wood with skill.
'If there are miracles… they rarely happen to people like us…'
That's what Bell thought, remembering how Louise had looked that night:
'If I hadn't found Louise yesterday… she'd be a corpse under the snow by now.'
That night…
Louise fell asleep beside Bell, holding tightly to the edge of his shirt.
Even in her sleep… she didn't let go.
She was afraid she'd wake up and discover it was all just a dream.
But she slept deeply, peacefully—
For the first time since her grandmother passed away.
No one noticed…
That in the darkness of night, a faint light descended from the sky, slipped silently through the cottage roof…
And once again entered Bell's body.
* * *
The next morning, his grandfather roused him from sleep:
"Bell! When are you going to wake up? You slept like a rock! I've called you several times… Come on, we have work to do. You need to learn how to live on your own after I'm gone."
Bell stretched and groaned:
"Grandpa… where's Louise?"
He felt unusually tired, as if the long sleep hadn't been enough.
The old man pointed outside:
"She's out there… got up very early and started washing our clothes. Looks like she's trying to prove she's useful. That's all she can do right now."
Last night, as they returned from town, They passed by Louise's house, and handed her mother the apron full of matches.
Bell told her coldly:
"Your daughter… is dead."
But that cruel woman… didn't even ask about the body.
The first thing she did was snatch the apron, search it— And when she confirmed the matches were still inside, she shut the door without a word.
Louise, hiding behind the bushes, watched…
Though she knew what to expect, her heart still ached.
But now…
She would never sell matches again.
Outside, when she heard him calling, Louise raised her head from the washbasin and said:
"Bell, you're awake?"
Her face was still swollen, dark circles around her eyes…
But she smiled when she saw him.
A sight that evoked pity and warmth all at once.
Bell said as he got ready to leave:
"I'm going to work with Grandpa. Take care of the cottage. There's nothing worth stealing… but I'm counting on you."
* * *
They worked at a construction site owned by one of the rich.
The place was enormous—
A hundred times the size of Bell's cottage.
All the town's carpenters had gathered there.
When the craftsmen saw the old man bring his "foolish" grandson, they laughed and pointed—
Everyone knew how dim-witted he was.
Some glanced at Bell mockingly:
"Is that the dumb grandson?"
But in just a single week…
Bell learned more than others did in months.
His strength grew.
He could now lift beams only grown men could handle.
People's words changed…
"The carpenter's grandson… he's a prodigy!"
As for his grandfather… his heart swelled with pride:
'Something must have changed… My grandson has been blessed by some mysterious light. It's like a hidden grace has descended upon him.'
And Bell…
He became certain that everything began the moment he saved Louise.
Saving someone from death… changes their fate—
And it changes the fate of the one who saves them.
That's when he understood:
If he could alter the destinies of fairy tale characters…
He could alter his own fate, too.
And so, he found a purpose.
He would seek out the characters of the fairy tales…
And change their endings.
But for now…
His first goal:
To survive.
To secure food, shelter… and a life.