My five ghostly husbands-Chapter 353 Raincoats

After the movie’s release, Ruby had started receiving so many production invitations — big companies, small studios, even a few city folks who wanted her to do special effects for short films. And though each invitation made her heart flutter with old excitement, she politely declined every single one. Sometimes she’d look at the unopened letters on her desk and think, Maybe I should have taken at least one... But every time, she pictured Milo’s soft eyes looking up at her from that hospital bed and she knew she’d rather spend her evenings beside him than behind another editing desk for now.

Her own company, though, was speeding up faster than she’d expected. Orders were picking up, fabrics from Dreadmire village had started arriving in neat bundles, and her little team was slowly growing. Some days she’d wake up before sunrise, her mind already filled with lists, meetings with tailors, suppliers, new sketches.

She was especially busy arranging a meeting with the owner of that big patch of empty land behind her office building. She’d spent weeks politely convincing the stubborn old owner to sell. When the final papers were signed, Ruby had nearly laughed with relief like one heavy burden had slipped straight off her shoulders. Finally. One day, that empty land would hold her proper buliding but for now, she decided to wait — she wouldn’t start construction until the harsh rainy season passed.

Meanwhile, the Dreadmire threads turned out better than she’d dreamed. She’d planned to make new robes with them, but seeing how the rain grew stronger, she changed her plans to focus on something more practical — raincoats and boots. The threads were perfect for water resistance once treated properly, and her weavers were good at cutting and stitching them into simple rain coats.

They asked Ruby to purchase some material that was like plastic, and they melted the Dreadmire threads to mix them and make different products. The weaver she hired was a professional, so she even brought them the machine they asked for.

But boots... well, boots were another story entirely. Ruby could design anything — she could draw up sketches of soles and buckles and linings in her sleep but when it came to actually making sturdy, waterproof boots, she had to admit she knew nothing. Her workers didn’t know either; they were used to robes and coats, not tricky shoe molds and rubber linings.

So she did what any sensible boss would do — she found a good shoemaker in town, an old artisan with years of quiet experience, and hired him on the spot. "Anyway," she told herself that night, half-laughing as she jotted numbers in her ledger, "one person can’t do everything."

She closed her books and leaned back in her chair, letting her eyes drift toward the calendar on the wall — the one with her scribbled notes about Milo’s surgery, the next visit, the family days planned around him.

When Ruby finally found a sliver of free time between work, Milo’s hospital visits, and endless paperwork, she decided it was the right moment to do something she’d been putting off for too long buying a proper computer for her office.

So one morning, she took her car back to the city, quietly humming to herself as she parked near that same minimal, pretty shop where she’d found her laptop. The walls were still lined with shelves of simple but neatly arranged screens, glass panels, and boxed-up accessories. She carefully picked out a decent setup — sturdy enough to last, with just enough storage and speed for what her small team needed. She also brought printer, telling herself she was tired of rewriting everything by hand like they were stuck in some ancient century.

When she brought everything back to her office, her staff looked both excited and confused. Most of them had never used a computer before. So she spent an entire week sitting with them around that single desk, sleeves rolled up, her patient voice guiding them through every step.

"This is your worksheet — see here? Each line, each expense, each order — write it here first. If it doesn’t match, do it again until it does," she explained, tapping her nail on the keys as her accountant ghost scribbled notes. There were so many small mistakes at first, but they tried so hard, they stayed late, made simple lists, learned to print out the clean pages for her final signatures. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Ruby even called in a professional lawyer, someone calm but sharp to help draw up proper contracts and small protections for her growing business. It made her feel lighter, knowing she wasn’t doing everything alone anymore.

But no matter how busy she got, her mind always wandered back to that quiet, old spark — games. Whenever she sat at her desk late at night, she’d find herself opening the old clunky browser on her laptop, searching for news about what kinds of games people made here. She’d read about the popular engines — though this world’s technology was a bit behind what she once knew. There were weird local engines with names like SoulFrame or Mindframe, built for simple puzzle games and adventure storybooks.

Her fingers would hover over her sketchbook as she scribbled down little ideas — monster designs, silly characters, bits of dialogue. Her hands itched for it, the way they always had.

One night she even smiled to herself, tapping her pen against her notebook. "Maybe one day..." she whispered.

She closed her eyes, thinking of Milo, the work waiting for her tomorrow, the raincoats and boots in progress but underneath all that, her dream of making her own game stayed warm and steady, like a tiny flame that wouldn’t die out, no matter how long it had to wait.

When the first samples of Ruby’s new raincoats were finally ready, she felt like she was holding her breath the whole day. She’d stood there in her little workshop, hands tucked into her sleeves, watching her staff carefully hang the fresh pieces on simple racks — the thin fabric catching the light just right, the seams neat and strong where the Dreadmire threads blended in.

Word spread so quickly. A few loyal customers who had visited for her robes before came in just to peek at what she’d made. One by one, they touched the coat between their fingers, surprised by how light it felt, not heavy and sticky like the old-style rain suits everyone dreaded wearing.

—To be continued...🪄

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