Lynette stepped outside and immediately saw Dorian.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  He looked as he always did—as if things like this were an everyday occurrence for him.

  “I think… so,” she nodded uncertainly.

  “Look up.”

  “Up?” she asked, and obeyed .

  The sky above the estate was changing before her eyes. The vast expanse that only a moment ago had seemed like an endless canvas from which the moon had fallen was now shattering into multicolored fragments, scattering in the wind.

  All that beauty reflected in her eyes—both mesmerizing and terrifying at once.

  The sight could be described in only one word.

  “Magnificent…” she whispered.

  “When a ghost disappears, everything connected to it disappears as well.”

  Sunlight began piercing through the clouds, and with its first rays, the danger that had haunted the night faded away.

  “She’s… still alive?” Cliff asked tensely.

  “Of course. I can feel her presence,” Dorian replied.

  “Where exactly?”

  Dorian shifted his gaze to the bag. It seemed as though he were looking straight through the fabric—directly at the medallion inside.

  “Nearby,” he said with certainty.

  People began gathering, thanking them for their help.

  “Attention!” Vern called out loudly, though in a monotonous tone. “This isn’t over yet! We need to restore the estate!”

  Everyone present—including the lord—set to work, clearing away the aftermath of the otherworldly battle.

  “Is everything really alright?” Lynette asked Roseline.

  “Get some rest. We’ll handle everything,” she replied.

  A place was arranged for Lynette and the detective in the courtyard. The weather was nearly perfect.

  Dorian sat down beside her.

  “So, how was it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our first case together.”

  There was genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.

  “It’s… complicated,” Lynette answered. “On one hand—new sensations, new acquaintances. On the other—death, fear… and regret.”

  The detective smiled, though there was a faint trace of disappointment behind it.

  Did I say something wrong?

  “But overall…” she added more quietly. “I liked it.”

  “Ha…” he laughed gently.

  “W-what’s wrong? Why are you laughing?!” Lynette grew nervous.

  The tension slowly faded, leaving behind a strange sense of calm.

  “I had fun,” Dorian said sincerely. “Look at them.”

  He nodded toward the people tirelessly carrying away debris, planks, and rubble.

  “I love…” he said softly. “I love watching their happy faces.”

  Lynette’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.

  She quickly looked away. Her ears burned, her chest felt hot, as if the air had suddenly grown too thick. For some reason, it became hard even to simply sit beside him.

  Why does he say that so easily?!

  “We saved many of them…” she stammered, trying not to look at him.

  “Yes. If we hadn’t intervened, most of them would have died.”

  There was joy in his voice, but also sadness… and something else she couldn’t quite understand.

  Is that the only reason? Does he truly risk himself only for others?..

  Still flushed, she turned back to him and suddenly—unexpectedly, even to herself—said:

  “Let me stay by your side. I want to learn more.”

  The boy froze for a moment and looked at her carefully.

  “You…” Dorian began slowly.

  What will he say? Will he tell me about himself?..

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Are you flustered?”

  “N-no!” she replied sharply, looking away. “It’s just… warm, that’s all.”

  “Is it?” He glanced at the sky. “Seems perfect to me.”

  He’s attentive… and sometimes unbelievably naive.

  “I need to go pack my things,” Lynette said and quickly headed toward the estate.

  “We’re here until evening!” Dorian called after her.

  The dark-haired boy lay down on his back and closed his eyes, as if dissolving into the sound of the wind.

  “I need to get everything ready…” He placed his hand on the bag. “What do you think, Esther?”

  ***

  Time slipped by unnoticed as they worked. Together, they gradually gathered all the debris into piles.

  “And what do we do with this?” the gardener Arden asked, looking at the hole stretching through the entire building—from ceiling to floor.

  “I don’t know…” Lynette replied.

  When the cleaning was finished, they all went to the kitchen. Everyone was present except the detective.

  After the hard work, everyone’s appetite had grown, and they quickly began eating.

  As always—delicious.

  The atmosphere was calm, yet no one said a word. Each of them simply wanted to rest and forget the nightmare they had endured.

  He handled everything on his own… How hard and lonely it must have been for him.

  After lunch, Lynette returned to her room.

  “Phew… I’m exhausted.”

  There was a strange emptiness in her heart.

  Esther… she killed so many…

  Before her eyes appeared the image of the girl who had begged for death.

  And yet I pity that unfortunate soul too…

  The memory of her last encounter with the ghost flickered through her mind.

  Was she truly destined to suffer?

  Her eyelids slowly closed on their own. Lynette was exhausted—both physically and emotionally.

  ***

  A dull knock echoed against the wall.

  “Wake up,” Roseline said gently.

  “I… fell asleep?” Lynette asked, slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

  “It’s already getting late, and the carriage has arrived. I’ll take care of your luggage.”

  I only brought a few things; it’ll just take a moment.

  “Then I’ll go,” Lynette said.

  I’ve grown used to the estate and its people. Leaving this place feels so difficult…

  Outside, a crowd had gathered around something.

  What’s going on?..

  “Lady Lynette,” Vern called out upon noticing her. “Please, come here.”

  As she approached, she saw a small mound covered with fresh soil and adorned with various flowers from the garden. A sign stood upon it:

  “In memory of all who disappeared.”

  “Who arranged all this?” Lynette asked.

  “I did,” the detective’s voice sounded behind her.

  She flinched.

  “Don’t sneak up on me from behind,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

  “Sorry. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He heard all that?! How mortifying!

  “I’ve arranged a place where everyone can pay their respects to those who have disappeared.”

  That’s why he wasn’t around…

  “All of them?” she asked, reading the inscription on the plaque carefully.

  He nodded silently.

  So… Esther too…

  “What’s behind your back?” Lynette asked, noticing his hands hidden there.

  “Every person laid down a flower. Since you weren’t present, I picked one for each of us.”

  “That’s a lovely idea.”

  “Here…” he held out a philentra to her.

  Philentra—a delicate snow-white flower with thin, semi-transparent petals that shimmer with a soft pearlescent glow. Its small center is cream-golden; it has no leaves, just a flexible light-green stem.

  Its size and beauty depend on the night: the more often and longer moonlight falls upon it, the more magnificent it becomes.

  Lynette carefully took the flower. Its petals were cool from the evening air, and its gentle fragrance touched her nose.

  “Thank you…” she said softly, holding the stem firmly. “Is this the flower you were looking at earlier?”

  “Exactly,” he replied. “Philentra symbolizes purity, innocence, love, and perfection. Among all the plants I’ve ever seen, it’s the most beautiful.”

  As they stepped forward, they carefully set down a flower each.

  Rest in peace… all of you, they both thought.

  “Everything’s ready. We can leave,” Dorian said and headed toward the same carriage they had arrived in.

  The stallions neighed impatiently, eager to be on their way.

  Lynette stayed a moment, gazing at the black symbols. The smell of fresh paint still hung in the air.

  Many thoughts swirled in her mind, but gathering them under control, she let go of everything unnecessary.

  “Wait!” Arden called, running up to her.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Philentra… Why this particular flower?”

  “Is that important?” she asked in surprise.

  “No,” he replied. “Just an interesting choice.”

  “Why?”

  “That flower carries many meanings, like others do. But its main ones are loneliness and inevitability.”

  “Now I understand why you asked…”

  “Don’t misunderstand, it’s a wonderful choice!” Arden added. “Among everyone present, I’m the only one besides you and the detective who chose that plant.”

  Did Dorian choose philentra because of that…?

  After answering all the questions, Lynette calmly entered the carriage and closed the door.

  Through the window, they saw the people—their faces filled with happiness and relief.

  “Good luck! Come visit! Farewell! All the best! Until we meet again! Thank you!” they shouted.

  Smiling with all her heart, Lynette quietly, barely moving her lips, said:

  “Goodbye.”

  The carriage gently began to move and headed home.

  Just after they had left the estate grounds, Dorian was the first to speak, taking a small purple box into his hands.

  “I have a gift for you,” he said, leaning slightly to show her the item.

  Lynette raised her brows, slightly surprised.

  “For me? You didn’t have to…”

  She glanced at the box, her hands trembling lightly with curiosity.

  What’s inside?.. Show me!..

  Dorian smiled, as if noticing every subtle detail of her reaction, and carefully opened the box. Inside gleamed a silver wristwatch with delicate engraving on the dial.

  “I thought… maybe it would be useful. And so that you’d sometimes remember this day,” he said softly.

  Lynette felt her heart skip a beat again.

  A second time?!

  She carefully took the watch, ran her fingers over the cool metal, and said:

  “It’s… incredible… Thank you.”

  Dorian leaned slightly forward, meeting her gaze, and thought:

  Maybe… I can make it work.

  “By the way… what did you do to me?” Lynette asked gently, though with a slight tremor in her voice.

  “You noticed?” he exhaled quietly. “I can influence the mind a little. So your reactions to events… let’s say they were somewhat lighter than they should have been.”

  And yet again, such an honest answer… Could it be that he’s hiding nothing from me?

  They both fell silent for a while, letting the quiet fill the carriage.

  After some time, they had traveled several miles. The sun was already beginning to rise, replacing the night with a calm morning. The carriage approached the estate.

  Passing through the main gates, they moved inside and stopped by the steps leading to the house. Outside, it was quiet; only a light breeze played with the leaves.

  They went up to Dorian’s study.

  He approached a tall portable ladder that Lynette hadn’t even noticed before.

  Carefully, without the slightest hint of fear, Dorian climbed it and reached the very top corner of the room. There, in the dim glow of an old lamp, a small niche was barely visible—a recess in the wall hidden from prying eyes.

  Into that small shelf, he carefully placed the medallion, adjusting it several times and positioning it in the center. Once finished, the detective quickly descended the ladder, holding its sides, and neatly placed it back in the corner of the room.

  “What’s next?” Lynette asked, slightly nervous but curious.

  “I’m glad you asked,” Dorian replied with a warm smile. “It will be a house. And I can say with certainty: the ghost inside is bound to it.”

  “When do we leave?” she asked eagerly.

  “There’s still time,” he replied. “I have a task for you.”

  “What kind?” Lynette raised her brows, her eyes lighting up.

  The detective smiled warmly.

  “I’ll tell you everything…”