Being unfamiliar with the Danube river, I set out in the daylight to scout the docks. The French troops stationed there would likely check all arriving shipments, and I had a nagging feeling that Curwen’s contents were best kept unknown. The earlier rain had slacked off, leaving me to dodge puddles as I passed the few ported ships. How haggard the sailors looked! I could not imagine the strain Napoleon’s sieges had taken on their business.

Despite the bad though, a cluster of children had taken advantage of the sparsely populated docks to kick around an old bell in some sort of game. Their laughter was contagious, and I smiled while watching the carefree faces that could find such joy in the midst of war. A boy in a tattered coat kicked the bell with a force that sent it skidding through the mud to stop by my cane. The children fell silent as I picked up the toy. Resting on my cane with a friendly grin, my free hand wiped off the mud and extended the bell for the boy to reclaim. He glanced at his comrades.

“Cripple!” the boy pointed to me and laughed.

“He wiped his disease all over it,” another sniffed, backing away.

“Do not let him touch you, or you will limp too!” the boy sprang back, excitedly piecing together this new game. With the bell forgotten, the children rushed away screaming and laughing as they jostled one other. My hand fell to my side as they disappeared behind a shop. I gently set the bell upright on a fence and continued to walk, paying special attention to keep each step steady and consistent. William had never minded my limp, when he was brought back, we would kick bells back and forth all day until Mama made us come inside for dinner.

Drunken laughter reached me as a group of men staggered my way. I recognized the half-buttoned coat of the man who had attacked me outside the tavern. My head ducked as I hurried down a small alleyway before being noticed. The short jog left me panting and I clutched a wall to steady myself.

“Are you alright, sir?”

My muscles stiffened at the familiar voice. Of all the ports in all of Europe, why must he be here?

“Sir, you are deathly pale?” A gentle hand touched my shoulder and I slapped it away.

“I assure you that I am quite fine, Walton,” I hissed, turning to meet the captain’s gaze.

“Ernest?” Walton’s sunken eyes widened. “By god, what are you doing in a place like this?”

“I should ask you too. Given the popularity of your biography on my brother, I had thought you would be off living a life of luxury?”

Walton shifted his boney frame on the gravel. Since bringing me the news of Victor’s fate, his formally dark beard had become matted and white. He had lost weight too, I noticed.

“Believe me, Ernest, if I had known the backlash my book would cause you, I would have never put it to print!” Walton’s head hung. “I only wished to benefit mankind with your brother’s cautionary tale. I did not think—”

“How your creation of ink would affect his surviving family?” I muttered, eyeing the drunken stragglers down the alleyway. “My family were good people. Victor was the exception, but now the Frankenstein name, the name of my good father, will be forever linked with madness and the highest forms of human depravity!”

“You have every right to hate me,” Walton closed his eyes. “But do not take that rage out on your brother. I know you believe that Victor was insane, but I saw his creature with my own eyes, Ernest! My printed account lacks the emotion I heard in his tone. He was devastated over what he had done. Of the pain he caused you!”

I knew that. After Elizabeth was murdered, the withered husk that was once my brother had told me a tale of graverobbing. Of unhallowed texts and a monster lurking in the shadows. Victor had pleaded with me and a bloody magistrate to help him kill the monstrosity. He was so scared. So desperate to confess and beg me for forgiveness.

Yet I had called him mad. I arranged for Victor to be institutionalized so he could not harm himself in his manic state. Somehow, he caught wind of my plan and disappeared the following morning. He was in a casket when we met again.

Victor had not related that bit to Walton. His narrative left me to fade into the background. I kept telling myself he skipped my betrayal out of indifference. Yet that night he had sounded so worried for my sake. He had come to me and I turned him away.

If he had spoken the truth from the start, would you have believed him? Or would you have locked away the one person capable of stopping that monster? You would have, right? Victor knew that. He knew the only chance to save you was staying silent.

Heat spread throughout my body, whether from shame or rage, I did not know. All I knew was that I refused to let the man who had capitalized on my family’s tragedy upheave my life any further.

“What does it matter if Victor regretted what he did?” I snapped. “He ought to! He is the reason everyone is dead!”

“Ernest,” Walton’s tone was pleading. “You are a good man who deserves none of this pain. Staying in Ingolstadt only fuels your bitterness. Come live with my sister and I! You cannot hope to survive in the real world with your impairments.”

“I am stronger than you realize,” I muttered. Go with Walton? The man who had held a torch to Victor’s sins for all the world to see?

Who had comforted my dying brother while I was absent. Who did not see me as an extension of Victor and offered an escape from my nomadic life on the run. I eyed the abandoned bell in the distance.

Once, I might have accepted such an offer and left the bad memories behind me. But why settle for replacements when my true family was just within my grasp? I was with Curwen now, and we would amend Victor’s past mistakes instead of moving forward with our lives. I shook my head and Walton’s hand lowered. He seemed to view me for the first time.

“Ernest,” Walton’s tone shook. “Why are you in Ingolstadt when you know full well what Victor did here?”

I shrank away. Walton had seen what Victor had been reduced to. He would never condone a repeat of his work, no matter the good intentions.

“It was nice meeting you, captain,” I started down the alleyway, faking confidence. “But I must be going. Seeing how little you considered me when you published Victor’s account, you have no right to take an interest now.”

That struck a nerve. Walton was too good. Too kind. He did not deserve to be caught up in this mess. It was cruel of me to weaponize his mistake when he had only meant well. I saw his head lower and knew my words bound him in place. Guilt pricked me as I rushed away, but it was a small price for what Curwen had promised.