After a brief search, you find the door.
A door of distress. There are white candles burning beside it. You hear the whimpering sobs of someone's friends and family.
A door of warmth. There are birds perched on it. They are chirping cheerfully.
You push the door. It opens.
The Dittarsdorf house seems quieter than usual. Those who pass by do so hurriedly, lest some of its misfortune rub off on them.
Kakania: ... Isolde, I'm so, so sorry.
Kakania: If you ever need someone—or anything—I'm right here for you. Call me anytime. The company and support of friends are most important, especially during this time.
Kakania: And if you feel uncomfortable at home, you're more than welcome to stay in my clinic.
She turns back to Isolde, who is standing by the gate.
She is as elegant and upright as always—her body slender, her face pale, her eyes black.
Isolde: Thank you, Ms. Kakania.
Isolde: I ... I'll be fine. You needn't worry about me.
Isolde: ...
After a brief silence, she casts her eyes down.
Isolde: The Dittarsdorf family needs me as a hostess more than ever. My reputation is worthless at the moment.
Isolde: Given the circumstances of his death, Theophil's body isn't suitable to be displayed at a wake.
Isolde: So, Mr. Karl suggested we bury him sooner so he may rest in peace rather than painfully linger in this world.
Isolde: The maids are packing his things. A third of his paintings will be buried with him. As for the financial disputes between himself and his models, they remain to be solved.
Isolde: And I, I ...
She hesitates, looking to the decorated iron gate of the Dittarsdorf house. Its recent neglect has allowed dirt to grow in its crevices.
Isolde: I'm the last living Dittarsdorf, Ms. Kakania. It falls to me to shoulder our burdens.
Isolde: I can't live like this. I can't let my wandering womb control me anymore. The fainting, the convulsions, those visceral disturbances. I will not allow myself to become some horrifying lunatic.
Kakania: Isolde ...
Isolde: I've decided to accept Dr. Schwartz's treatment.
Isolde raises her head and gives Kakania a smile.
Isolde: Times are different now. New treatments are emerging day by day. I'm sure he'll find a way to help me.
Kakania: ...
Kakania: Kakania remains silent. Finally, she lets out a sigh.
Kakania: I really don't think Schwartz is the best doctor for you. You're a Dittarsdorf, for goodness's sake, not some commoner. He's only trying to use your status to gain profit and attention!
Kakania: That's why he insisted the treatment process be open to the public.
Kakania: But, as your friend, I respect your decision. And I completely understand why you'd choose to accept the treatment.
Kakania: Just know that you have the right to stop him at any time. Please, Isolde, as soon as you feel any discomfort—any pain—promise me you'll tell him to stop.
Isolde: Can I do that ...?
Kakania: Every living person has the right to express their discomfort!
Kakania: Hm ... But it's possible that, under the circumstances, you'll be unable to stop him ...
Kakania rubs her chin, immersed in thought. Then her eyes light up.
Kakania: Of course! The presentation is open to all, so I can be there too!
Kakania: I'll sit in the audience and keep a close eye on you. If things get out of control, I'll stop him ...
Kakania's face looks considerably brighter with this idea. Her voice is as clear and colorful as a parrot's.
Isolde listens quietly, chuckling from time to time at Kakania's chattering.
Isolde: Thank you, Ms. Kakania. You're a great friend.
Isolde looks at her, her eyes twinkling. A pink blush rises on her pale cheeks.
She steps closer to Kakania and fixes her collar, as she has done countless times before.
Isolde: By the way, when you were in the house just now, did you notice a door?
Kakania: A door?
Puzzled, her eyes dart from Isolde to the gate and back.
Kakania: What kind of door?
Isolde: Just an ordinary door. There's nothing special about it.
Kakania: Huh?
She blinks in confusion.
Kakania: I don't get it, Isolde. There are many doors throughout your home. Which one are you referring to?
Isolde: Nothing ... Forget it. It's not important.
Having dealt with the collar, Isolde pulls back her hands and steps back behind the gate.
Isolde: It's getting late. You should head home.
Kakania: Oh my, is that the time? You're right, I should go. I have a patient—I mean, a visitor—who requires the help of my "witchcraft"!
Kakania: Thanks for reminding me. Then I shall take my leave ...
Lowering her hat, Kakania leaves with her suitcase in hand. She quickly blends into the crowd.
The maid steps forward and starts to close the huge metal gate.
Isolde: Ms. Kakania, wait!
Isolde's voice sings out above the squeaking of the gate.
She notices the green feathers in Kakania's hat flick in the crowd.
Kakania: Yes? You called me?
Isolde: If Dr. Schwartz's therapy doesn't work, could you please treat me?
Kakania: Of course! You're always welcome!
Now the feathers jiggle cheerfully. Kakania swims against the current, returning to the gate.
Kakania: You're my greatest friend in all Vienna! I'd be more than happy to help!
