Chapter 7 THE PRICE

At first, he had considered the cake Martha made the greatest miracle of his life, a gift that had arrived just in time when his antique shop was on the verge of ruin.

But Nora sensed something strange beginning to creep into her mind, something she could not quite explain yet was strong enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Julian spoke of his success without a trace of genuine pride in his eyes. His voice was flat, as though he were describing someone else’s life rather than his own accomplishments.

“If your business succeeded, then what is wrong now?” Nora asked hesitantly, trying to move closer as though narrowing the distance between them might help her understand what was really happening.

Julian stared blankly at the wall of the shop, as though the answer were hanging there among the frames of old paintings. The smile vanished completely from his face, replaced by something far darker.

“After my wish was granted, I lost the will to do anything,” Julian whispered bitterly, almost as though he were admitting it to himself for the first time in years.

The man gripped the edge of the tablecloth, his fingers fidgeting restlessly without him realizing it.

“I have money, and this shop is full, but I no longer feel proud, sad, or even interested in my own future.”

A chill crept down Nora’s spine, as though Julian’s words had seeped directly beneath her skin.

She realized that Black Velvet Cake did not simply grant wishes as Aurelius claimed. It took something far more precious from within the person who ate it, something that could never be bought back with any amount of gold.

Tilly, who had been silently listening from behind Nora’s shoulder, flew closer to Julian with tears glistening in her eyes, as though she wanted to comfort him even though she knew there was nothing she could do.

Nora sat silently for a moment in one of the customer chairs inside the antique shop, trying to find the right words. In the end, all she could do was thank him and promise that she would return if she found a way to help.

Julian walked her to the door, his smile returning even though it felt empty, a habit that had perhaps become his everyday mask.

That afternoon, Nora returned to her shop with heavy steps, her feet feeling as though they were dragging an invisible weight behind them.

She shut the door tightly, carrying the sorrow and horror of what she had discovered into the kitchen, while Tilly silently followed behind her.

Master Crumb stood motionless in the corner of the room. The moment Nora placed the notebook on the table, the stone oven gave a soft creak, releasing a hiss of hot steam as though it understood the weight of the girl’s thoughts, as though it too could feel the burden of what Nora had just discovered.

Nora sank into the nearest chair, staring blankly at the kitchen window as dusk began to darken the glass. Her mind was still filled with the image of Julian’s empty face, his eyes resembling more of a hollow shell than those of a man who had once possessed dreams.

“He got what he wanted,” Nora murmured softly to herself, repeating Julian’s final words that continued to haunt her. “And after that... he never wanted anything again.”

Those words continued to echo in Nora’s mind even after she returned from Julian’s antique shop. It was already quite late, but she could not sleep until she had pieced together everything she had just learned.

She knew what she had to do next, search for a pattern among all the names recorded in Martha’s notebook and make sure Julian was not the only victim.

Nora spread the pages of Martha Finch’s notebook across her worktable. The old papers rustled softly whenever the breeze from the window touched them. Her eyes scanned the long list of former customers whose names had been circled in red ink, one by one, as though each circle were a mark of sin deliberately preserved with meticulous care.

She compared those records with the documents detailing the purchases of rare ingredients, assembling the fragments that had remained separate for so long into a complete picture. The horrifying pattern finally took shape in her mind, one she could no longer deny.

Everyone who ordered Black Velvet Cake did get what they wanted.

But the price they had to pay was far more horrifying than mere money, something that was not clearly written in any of the records, yet something Nora could feel in the way Martha had written each name with a hand that seemed to tremble.

There was a record of a wealthy merchant who lost the courage to step outside his home after his business prospered, becoming trapped by his own wealth.

There was also an artist who stopped caring about the people he loved, as though his work had absorbed every last trace of warmth from his life.

Everyone received the greatest dream they had ever wished for.

But the cake took away something that made their lives truly meaningful as human beings, and the longer Nora read, the more nauseous she became at the thought of how many more names might still be missing.