Alfred didn't have a verbal response, at least not right away. For a moment he just held her, thinking. There wasn't any way to go back and undo that night. He couldn't give them a different ending or more time. There might be a way to redeem it, someday — but he wouldn't get there by just sneaking around with her forever.

He kissed the top of her head again and tried to pull what he was feeling into some sort of words. Right as he opened his mouth, however, the window burst open. Startled, Alfred let go of Zelda and turned to see what had happened. The latch fell to the ground, apparently having worn off the screws holding it in place, an a burst of unseasonably chilly air blew in, rustling up a small cloud of papers from his desk and scattering them across the floor.

"Ah, damnit," he mumbled, picking the latch up from the ground. "This. This is the curse, or haunting, or whatever it is. I replaced this latch on Wednesday."