“Ugh...”

  Lynette woke up feeling stiff, her body contorted in an unusual position.

  What happened? Why am I here?

  “Argh… my head…” she murmured, feeling a dull ache.

  Rising slowly, she stretched her muscles and then went to the bathroom to wash her face.

  “That’s better.”

  Her thoughts lingered on the events of yesterday as she descended the stairs.

  It’s all a haze…

  She tried to piece together the scattered memories.

  I feel terrible…

  The maids she encountered behaved politely, but the mansion carried a strange, heavy atmosphere. Their movements were too sharp, their gazes fixed on the floor. Anxiety shadowed their faces.

  “That’s it!” Lynette exclaimed, her eyes widening with a sudden realization. “Last night… someone disappeared!”

  She strode through the vast corridors, searching for Roselyn.

  “Good morning, Lady Lynette,” Vern greeted her politely.

  “Good day. Do you know where the head maid is?”

  “Oh… now I understand why you’re so energetic.”

  “Was it that obvious?” Lynette asked, slightly embarrassed.

  “Yes, you’re racing all over the estate.”

  “Well… I need to meet and speak with her.”

  “Please, follow me.”

  They moved forward. Vern walked slowly, matching her pace. He always remained composed and courteous, his face almost expressionless, as if hiding behind a mask that could crack at the slightest sign of emotion.

  “By the way, is Lord Cliff in?”

  “No, he won’t return until the day after tomorrow,” Vern replied without stopping.

  They descended to the lower floors, passing through the kitchen, which opened into a spacious hall. A large table dominated the center, surrounded by numerous chairs.

  “You haven’t eaten yet?” Vern asked, stopping and glancing at Lynette with mild concern.

  “I… it’s fine,” she began, but before she could finish, her stomach betrayed her with a long, treacherous “r-r-u-ump.”

  Why now?!

  “Most have already eaten. Roselyn will be here soon,” he added, leaving her.

  A small group dispersed to their tasks. Lynette, drawn by the aroma of freshly baked rye bread with cinnamon and rosemary, couldn’t resist and took a seat at the table. Before her lay a plate of soft bread, thick slices of cheese, and honey, alongside some boiled eggs and hot milk porridge.

  Ah… this is so delicious!

  She began eating, sipping a warm apple drink lightly diluted with water. Each bite of bread and cheese melted in her mouth; the honey added sweetness, while the warm drink gently chased away the morning chill.

  I wonder when Dorian will return? He left me… but didn’t say how long.

  She was finishing her meal when the doors to the hall quietly opened. Roselyn entered.

  “Good morning,” Lynette greeted, looking up.

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  The head maid nodded silently, sitting across from her without a word. Her movements were restrained, but exhaustion clung to her, as if the night had drained every bit of her strength.

  “Were you looking for me?”

  “Yes. I need to speak with you.”

  “With me?” Roselyn’s voice carried guarded caution. “What questions do you have?”

  Lynette studied her face carefully. Dark circles under her eyes, tense lips — Roselyn looked worn out.

  “One of the staff disappeared, correct?” Lynette asked cautiously. “Do you know who?”

  Roselyn slowly lifted her gaze. A flash of surprise crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by something resembling irritation.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Um… yes,” Lynette replied uncertainly. “I need to know who vanished.”

  The head maid closed her eyes briefly, as if holding back a sigh.

  “You’ve already met… even spent time together,” she said quietly but firmly. “You remember that, don’t you?”

  Lynette froze. A tight, suffocating feeling slowly crept into her chest.

  “I… I’m sorry…” she murmured guiltily. “Yesterday… it’s all a blur.”

  Silence fell in the hall. Only distant sounds of clattering dishes disturbed the quiet. Roselyn studied Lynette as if trying to discern whether she truly remembered nothing—or was afraid to.

  “Then,” the head maid said slowly, “we’ll have to do everything we can to restore your memory.”

  Her words hung in the air, heavy and unsettling. Lynette felt a chill along her spine, as if something invisible had touched her.

  “Where do we start?”

  “We’ll go to the missing girl’s room. Perhaps seeing the place will help your memory return.”

  They headed to the servants’ wing. Their footsteps sounded muted, the air seemingly frozen, waiting for an answer. Roselyn stopped at an unassuming door and opened it.

  The room was small. A neatly made bed, a folded blanket, a simple table, chair, and wardrobe — everything in its place. Lynette walked slowly, examining every detail.

  Nothing… no flash of memory, no familiar feeling.

  The space was orderly, showing no signs of struggle or haste. The curtains were perfectly arranged, and the air seemed unusually clean.

  “It feels like no one ever lived here…” Lynette whispered, her gaze sweeping the room as if trying to catch traces of someone’s presence.

  “You’re completely right,” Roselyn replied. “Every missing person left behind perfect cleanliness. As if erasing their own presence.”

  Goosebumps ran across Lynette’s skin, the fine hairs on her arms standing on end.

  “The girl who lived here…” she said slowly, “could she…?”

  “No…” the maid shook her head. “The poor thing was young, cheerful. She laughed often, talked a lot… but she worked carelessly.”

  Where is this sense of foreboding coming from?

  “She would never leave the room like this,” Roselyn added. “Even after being scolded, there were always signs of disorder.”

  Lynette approached the bed, running her fingers over the perfectly smooth blanket.

  “I’m starting to guess…” she whispered. “I need to meet the Baron.”

  The head maid clenched her hands silently, her nails digging into her palms.

  “As soon as he returns, I’ll let you know.”

  You can tell how badly she wants to put an end to all this.

  At that moment, something clicked in Lynette’s mind — like an invisible lock had turned.

  An image emerged abruptly, vague as if seen through water: flickering candlelight, dim half-darkness… blue eyes staring unblinkingly at her. And a whisper — soft, insistent, but completely indecipherable.

  She grabbed her head sharply.

  Pain struck instantly — sharp, like dozens of needles driven straight into her brain. Her vision blurred for a moment.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?! Should I get help?!” Roselyn panicked.

  Breathe… Slowly… Again…

  The pain receded as suddenly as it had come, leaving a heaviness and dull ringing in her head. Her hands trembled uncontrollably for some time, moving as if they had a life of their own.

  “I’m fine… just startled,” Lynette forced a smile, scratching her head out of habit.

  We need to get out of here...

  ***

  They strolled through the garden in the fresh air.

  “What was the missing girl’s name?” Lynette asked.

  Roselyn was silent for a moment, a lump forming in her throat.

  “Sophie…” she finally said. “I’ve told you all I can.”

  And again, nothing...

  The name didn’t trigger the strange reaction Lynette had expected.

  “Thank you… that helped.”

  Absolutely not.

  After parting, the head maid returned to the mansion, while Lynette sat on a dark green garden bench she had noticed during her walk.

  What happened yesterday?.. My memory and her disappearance… they’re definitely connected.

  “Who’s there?!” she shouted, spinning around.

  The sensation of a heavy, invisible gaze made her react instinctively. It felt as if the silence itself was watching, though no one was there.

  “Just my imagination?”

  The day passed quickly. Lynette barely noticed the sun dipping behind the horizon, casting long shadows among the trees and flowerbeds.

  Climbing back to her floor, she headed to her room. Her body still remembered the day’s tension, her thoughts racing without pause. She sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling deeply.

  Sophie…

  The name wouldn’t leave her mind.

  Why does this unease refuse to go away?

  She extinguished the candles and lay down, pulling the blanket tightly around her.

  “Good night…” a quiet, mocking female voice whispered in the darkness.

  Lynette slowly lifted herself, listening carefully. She was alone.

  Seriously… is this some kind of illusion?

  “What the hell is going on here?!” she muttered irritably.

  Lying back down, Lynette closed her eyes, refusing to give in to fear. Her racing thoughts gradually faded. Her breathing evened, facial muscles relaxed, and the day’s tension subsided.

  I just want my memories back…

  She sank into sleep, unaware that her wish would soon come true.