Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 65
Investigation
It was early morning.
Just after six o’clock, Richelle stepped out of her room. Her natural destination was not the children’s room nor the twins’ bedroom, but Alan Otis’s private study.
Ever since deciding to talk to Alan, Richelle had been consistently visiting his study. Today marked the fourth day of knocking on his door, hoping for a conversation. However, the irritable young man had neither opened the door nor responded even once.
Stifling a yawn, Richelle leaned against the wall. She figured that if she kept waiting, she might catch a glimpse of Alan Otis at least once. After all, he didn’t stay holed up in his study all day.
She was checking the pocket watch, a graduation gift from her mentor, when the door to Alan’s bedroom on the opposite side of the study opened at half-past six.
Alan Otis, walking out with his usual pale complexion, froze at the sight of Richelle. The boy’s face looked as if he had seen a ghost.
“…What are you doing here? Seems like you have nothing better to do.”
He snapped sharply, glancing around nervously. Richelle clasped her hands together and took a step towards him.
“Sorry for being here so early. There’s something I must discuss with you.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Alan scoffed dismissively and brushed past her. If she let him go now, who knew when she might see him again? Desperation made Richelle instinctively reach out and grab his left arm.
“Please, just spare me a moment!”
“Ugh.”
Alan winced in pain and shuddered. Richelle quickly released him, startled.
“What’s the matter… Oh my goodness!”
The bandage on Alan’s left hand extended up to his wrist, covered by his shirt. It was clearly a severe injury. Richelle hurriedly stepped in front of him.
“That injury, you got it that night, didn’t you?”
“What business is it of yours? Stay out of it.”
“How can I? You got hurt saving us… Have you had proper treatment? Could you show me—”
“Move!”
Alan harshly swatted Richelle’s hand away. She blankly clutched her hand as it began to swell and turn red.
Breathing heavily, Alan let out a cold laugh.
“What good will it do you to see it? Is there anything you can do besides fussing around like an idiot?”
“…At the very least, I can help treat it so it doesn’t get worse.”
Alan Otis glared at her silently. Richelle met his piercing blue eyes without backing down. She didn’t want to shrink away from his intentionally hurtful words.
They exchanged sharp looks for a long moment. Eventually, it was Alan Otis who broke the gaze first.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s properly treated. This bandage was applied by Rogéros Walter.”
“Oh.”
So, it was Rogéros who had gone to save Alan. Thinking about how adept Rogéros seemed at dealing with the mansion’s strange phenomena, Richelle felt a bit relieved.
Then, she suddenly felt a pang of bitterness. Trusting Rogéros while simultaneously doubting him—what a contradiction. It was laughable.
An awkward silence swept between them. Alan, rubbing the back of his neck, finally spoke.
“So, what’s your business?”
“Are you willing to listen?”
“Just get to the point.”
Richelle thought carefully. Bertrand’s rules had emphasized not discussing the mansion’s strange phenomena recklessly. She pondered how to convey her concerns indirectly.
After swallowing to moisten her throat, Richelle began to speak.
“Over the past two months, I’ve noticed something. The servants of Bertrand seem remarkably indifferent to the family they serve.”
“What?”
“There was one girl who did pay attention, but recently, her contract was terminated early, and she left.”
“….”
It seemed Alan understood what she was hinting at. His expression hardened. Richelle took a small breath and continued.
“Did that girl return safely to their hometown?”
“She’s gone to a very far place.”
I see.
So, Becky Dustin was no longer among the living.
Disgust and fear surged within her. Richelle clenched her rigid hands, suppressing the urge to retch. There was no time to be shocked. If it was certain that people were dying in the mansion, she needed to get the twins out as soon as possible.
“Actually, I don’t think Bertrand is a good environment for children to grow up in. So, I was thinking, how about sending your siblings to a boarding school? If you could accompany them as their guardian…”
“Hold on.”
Alan interrupted her, his face contorting harshly.
“What did you say? Boarding school? Listen, Miss. I thought I told you to stop meddling with them.”
