Chapter 1: The Arrival

The freak show came to Dalton on a wind that smelled of rain.

It reached the town at dawn, wagons rolling in while the streets were still slick with night. By the time the church bell rang, the square had been claimed by canvas walls and towering letters painted in colors meant to shout. A brass band tuned its instruments without enthusiasm. Townsfolk gathered in loose circles, curiosity pulling harder than restraint.

At the tallest wagon, edged with peeling gold, a narrow wooden platform had been raised. A man stepped onto it with measured composure. He wore a dark, well-kept coat and wire-rimmed spectacles. Nothing about him suggested performance. When he spoke, his accent marked him as foreign and educated.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Dalton,” he said, “before you enter, you must understand what has brought us here.”

The murmuring faded.

“My name is Doctor Hendrik van der Meer. I am a physician. What stands behind me is not legend, nor illusion, but the consequence of a very recent disaster.”

He gestured toward the sealed wagon.

“The woman advertised as The Shattered Woman was injured only weeks ago, in Boston. Her condition is new. Unsettled. Still changing.”

He drew a slow breath.

“She was born into nobility,” he said. “Raised with tutors, servants, and the assurance that the world was arranged to protect her. Her family encouraged refinement, not risk. And yet, like many of her station, she was drawn to the marvels of progress.”