In Margate at night, Charlotte marvelled at her heightened senses and followed Sabine through the quiet town. They trailed a drunken man from an inn to his home, where Sabine deftly compelled him to invite them inside by returning a dropped shilling and suggesting hospitality with a voice-tinged influence. Inside, Sabine signaled Charlotte to feed. Charlotte bit the man, experiencing euphoria as his blood warmed her and restarted her heart.

As Charlotte fed, Sabine whispered encouragement, calling her "my feral rose." But when the man gasped, "Please," the illusion of bliss broke. Horrified, Charlotte stopped and allowed the man to flee. Dizzy and conflicted, she sat by the hearth as Sabine left, displeased.

Sabine returned and dropped a human heart into Charlotte’s lap, then two more, stating they belonged to the pleading man and the two men he had already told, underscoring the rule to finish what you start. Charlotte burned the hearts in the fire, revolted, while Sabine lounged, seemingly unaffected. When Charlotte challenged Sabine’s lack of remorse, Sabine argued death is constant and that they make use of it, reframing mortals as food rather than people.

Their argument cooled as Sabine soothed Charlotte, praising her mind but redirecting her turmoil into desire. Sabine led Charlotte upstairs, and they spent the night together, the hearts burning to ash below.

Charlotte dreamed of Clement Hall, trapped and voiceless as her family searched in vain, a reflection of her entombed past self. Waking entangled with Sabine, Charlotte later found paper and resolved to write home. Despite Sabine’s disapproval-tinged pause, she did not forbid it.

Charlotte’s letter apologized for her abrupt departure, expressed her wish for a different kind of life, affirmed her happiness, and promised a future visit. As they left town, Charlotte mailed the letter, feeling sadness, then hopeful lightness. She framed the act as the end of her first story—young Miss Hastings—and the beginning of the next with Sabine.