Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 122
Alan staggered, gripping the edge of the table for support. His voice, filled with hopelessness, sounded like that of a lost child.
“I thought… I thought Mother had completely lost her mind. I didn’t even know about her and Father’s past…”
“Alan…”
“Why did she bear it all alone… No, I understand. But her eyes, they could still look at me so clearly. If only, just once more…”
If she had held my hand even once more, maybe I could’ve endured a little longer.
Alan’s body trembled, as if his entire being was shaking to release the sadness his broken tear ducts couldn’t express.
Richelle placed her hand over Alan’s clenched fist. He squeezed his eyes shut.
After a moment of silence, Richelle asked softly,
“Do you resent your mother?”
“…I don’t know.”
Biting his lip, Alan hesitated.
“I don’t even know how to face her from now on. I don’t know if she even wants to look at me…”
“Alan, even so,” Richelle said with a bittersweet smile, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “Having the chance to talk to her again is a true blessing.”
“…”
Alan looked at Richelle, his green eyes trying to conceal his sorrow.
He understood why she was saying this. Gradually, his trembling subsided.
After a moment of steadying his breath, Alan stood the chair back up and sat down.
“When we free Otis.”
“Yes.”
“Mother will… be free too. We’ll have more peace in our hearts.”
So, for now, let’s focus on what’s in front of us.
Alan’s eyes hardened with determination. Together, they leaned in over the keys laid out on the table.
“Rogéros will be on the fourth floor at night, so we can’t enter then. Our best chance is just after six in the morning.”
“We’ll wait in the kitchen at night, and when the time comes, we’ll open the door.”
Alan sifted through the bundle of keys. Among the countless silver ones, there was one marked with a red stain.
This must be the key to the fourth floor. He felt certain.
Richelle and Alan’s eyes met.
“Let’s meet in my study by one in the morning.”
By tomorrow, the conclusion to their story would finally be decided.
Would it continue as a tragedy, or would it be the start of a new beginning with their liberation?
For now, no one could say.
***
It happened just as Richelle was about to head to the study.
“Teacher! Teacher!”
She had been lighting the oil lamp when the voice made her pause and turn toward the dressing room.
Bang, bang, bang!
The door was being knocked on, and through the noise came frantic calls.
It was Penny and Nero’s voices.
“Teacher! Help us!”
“Please, please! Help! We need to go to Mom!”
Their urgent cries were mixed with sobbing.
Hearing the twins’ voices calling her with such desperation from the dressing room—it was a situation that had never happened before.
Richelle furrowed her brow. Considering the rules of Bertrand, it would be wiser to ignore them. But…
“….”
Something told her she couldn’t ignore this. Her instincts warned her.
In the end, Richelle opened the door to the dressing room. The twins stumbled back, sobbing.
Behind them, a wardrobe stood wide open, revealing a hidden passage. It seemed they had used the same secret path as during the marmalade incident.
“Teacher…”
Their faces were streaked with tears, like real children who had suffered something terrible and were now seeking their mother.
Richelle knelt down to meet the twins at eye level.
“What’s going on?”
The twins sniffled and tugged at her arm.
“There’s no time for this. We need to go to Mom, right now.”
“Mom’s acting strange. She’s going to be strange.”
Strange?
Though their words were hard to understand, as soon as she heard them, Richelle’s heart sank.
Her decision was quick. Richelle grabbed the oil lamp and fastened her cardigan.
“Alright, let’s go.”
The sight of the oil lamp made the twins shrink back momentarily, but they quickly took the lead.
They exited through the children’s room and into the hallway. As the door opened, countless eyes seemed to follow them, but strangely, no one tried to stop them. Instead, it was as if everyone was cautiously stepping aside, giving them a wide berth.
The twins ran down the hall in a panic, their hair standing on end. Richelle followed them up to the second floor, to Madam Otis’s room.
The closer they got, the more an odd sense of dread gnawed at her heart.
“The door’s locked…”
Penny was the first to arrive and rattled the door, her voice trembling. Richelle pulled out the bundle of keys from her pocket.
“Step back for a moment.”
Her hands were slick with cold sweat, making the keys slip from her grasp. After a few failed attempts, she finally found the right key and inserted it into the lock.
Creak.
The door opened.
A foul, ominous smell wafted out.
“Jacqueline…?”
The room was pitch dark, not even a trace of moonlight penetrating the space. Richelle hesitated before stepping inside.
The oil lamp barely illuminated two steps in any direction. Richelle raised it higher, trying to extend the light’s reach as much as she could.
And then, at the very edge of where light met shadow, she saw it.
A pair of pale white feet, swinging gently like a pendulum in the air.
