How to Escape from the Yandere’s Crazy Obsession - Chapter 112
Richelle’s appearance was slightly better than average, but far from being called beautiful. She knew she wasn’t pretty. Being next to Leticia, who always shone brightly, only made it more obvious.
Leticia Cavendish.
Richelle couldn’t quite remember how they had become friends. Since a very young age, Leticia had always been by her side. Whether making friends, eating meals, or even falling in love, Leticia was always there.
At first, Richelle had admired Leticia’s beauty. But that admiration quickly transformed into jealousy. Maybe it started when Richelle realized her first boyfriend liked Leticia. He hadn’t been with Richelle because he liked her, but because he wanted to get closer to Leticia. The sense of betrayal she felt was indescribable.
Her first love, which she would have sacrificed everything for, ended in nothing but bitterness and betrayal. However, Richelle didn’t resent Leticia at the time. After all, it wasn’t Leticia’s fault that her boyfriend had used Richelle to get closer to her.
But as the time passed, and Richelle spent more time as Leticia’s shadow, jealousy began to take root. While she did feel envious of Leticia, it didn’t mean Richelle hated being friends with her. Their personalities meshed well, and being near Leticia meant Richelle, who was otherwise ordinary, could enjoy a bit of attention too.
Still, whenever Leticia was around, Richelle could never be the main character. Even if Richelle admired Leticia, she knew she could never be like her. This was something Richelle gradually came to accept.
Though they were friends, Richelle harbored jealousy toward every part of Leticia’s life. The only consolation she found was that Leticia was a commoner, while Richelle was a noble, even if a minor one.
In terms of wealth, Leticia’s family was far richer, but Leticia wasn’t born into nobility. On the surface, Leticia looked and acted like a noble lady, but Richelle clung to the fact that her status was higher than Leticia’s.
Then, one day, shortly after the start of winter break, an anonymous letter arrived at Richelle’s house. The black envelope had no return address, and something about it felt ominous. However, Richelle figured it might be from Leticia, as they often exchanged letters during breaks.
But instead of a friendly message, the letter only contained a strange address. Richelle stared at the unfamiliar address, puzzled. What could this be? It didn’t seem to be a mistake, as her name was clearly written on it.
After pondering for a while, Richelle brushed it off, assuming it was some sort of prank. However, a few days later, she heard the news that Leticia’s family had gone bankrupt.
“Leticia’s family went bankrupt?”
The news sent a shiver down Richelle’s spine, followed by an unexpected thrill of excitement. Now, Leticia had something that placed her beneath Richelle.
Richelle didn’t know how such a large business had collapsed, but she heard that Leticia had been left destitute, with nowhere to go. That’s when Richelle remembered the letter with the mysterious address.
Could this address be where Leticia was hiding from her creditors?
Richelle’s feelings were mixed. On one hand, she wanted to console her old friend. On the other hand, a part of her wanted to witness Leticia’s downfall firsthand. It was a perfect split of sympathy and morbid curiosity.
She smashed open her piggy bank, not because she felt particularly sad, but because the thought of giving Leticia a few coins while watching her misery was exhilarating. As her friend, Richelle could help her—and secretly relish in her ruined state.
When she arrived at the address, the area reeked of decay. Standing in the red-lit district, Richelle checked and rechecked the address on the letter in disbelief.
Was this really where Leticia had ended up?
“Wait… this place… It’s a brothel. There’s no way Leticia could be here…”
Fear suddenly gripped Richelle. What if she had stumbled into something dangerous? She turned to leave, her heart pounding, but it was as if something had latched onto her feet, refusing to let her escape.
“Why won’t my feet move?”
Drunken and drugged-out individuals leered at Richelle, their eyes filled with depravity. It felt as though insects were crawling all over her skin. She swore to herself that she would never set foot in a place like this again.
Panicked, she tried to flee, but strangely, her body refused to cooperate.
