Chapter 16
Meanwhile, Irene quickened her steps toward the dormitory. She had many things to do. First and foremost, she needed to decide what to do with the books that took up most of her room.
No, before that, she needed to eat the cake.
Hugging the envelope tightly, Irene’s pace grew faster.
“Isn’t that right, Miss Irene?”
Divoa, who had been speaking kindly while looking beside him, belatedly noticed the now-empty space and let out a soft chuckle.
“She disappears the moment I take my eyes off her.”
His muttered words lingered at his feet before scattering into the air.
Javier, observing Divoa’s expression, raised an eyebrow. His tone suggested mild irritation, but a soft smile lingered on his lips.
Watching Irene’s retreating figure disappear into the building, Divoa cheerfully turned on his heel. Warm sunlight brightly lit his path.
The anatomy lab, after practicals, was a place everyone avoided. Unless someone was particularly unusual, no one wanted to linger with dissected cadavers.
Of course, Irene was one of those unusual people.
To be honest, she rather liked the anatomy lab. Here, there were no pesky sea anemones to pester her or mischievous jellyfish to play pranks.
It was quiet as if she were the last person left in the world.
Leticia, ever since she was a child, had been afraid of being alone. On Sundays, when the family went to church and left Leticia sleeping in, it would throw the entire household into chaos.
On such days, the servants returned to their homes, leaving only Irene and Leticia in the large two-story house.
“Sister, don’t go anywhere. Stay here.”
Leticia, who usually found Irene annoying, would cling to her like the most affectionate sibling in the world. She’d return to her old self as soon as the family came back.
On the other hand, Irene was never afraid of being alone. The overwhelming silence and stillness reassured her.
“The smell of a decaying corpse is something I’ll never get used to, even by graduation.”
Even with her mouth and nose covered by cloth, the stinging stench was unbearable. But after a certain threshold, even such a strong odor faded into the background.
Sensory adaptation.
The theory was that after being exposed to a consistent smell for about five minutes, the olfactory system would adapt.
Irene wondered if human emotions were similar. If pain or suffering persisted for long enough, was there a point where they were no longer recognized as such?
Perhaps that was why she felt nothing anymore—not pain, but also not joy or affection.
She looked down at the lifeless body before her with indifferent eyes. The corpse’s organs were splayed carelessly outside the body.
It felt like looking at herself. If someone were to open her up, they’d find a hollow shell, just like the dissected corpse.
“What a ridiculous thought.”
After washing her hands thoroughly, Irene began placing the scattered organs back into their original positions. Just days ago, they would have been warm and pliable. Now, they were stiff and cold.
With her task nearly done, she wiped the dried bloodstains off the corpse’s skin with a damp cloth. The brown stains, hardened with time, didn’t come off easily, even with vigorous scrubbing.
Still, Irene persistently and methodically continued her work.
Sometimes, Max would watch her and scoff.
“Whether the guts are inside or out, it’ll all rot in the grave anyway. Why bother? Got nothing better to do? Must be nice being the top student—so carefree that you have time to fuss over a corpse when exams are right around the corner.”
If Irene didn’t respond, Max would get even more annoyed.
“Hey, broomstick, how about paying the living as much attention as you do the dead? What gives? Even a corpse gets better treatment than us. Why, did the corpse ask you to sew its stomach back up?”
“Dead people don’t talk.”
“What? Are you saying I talk too much? Unbelievable. What, do you think I’m desperate to talk to you. Like I don’t have better things to do? No one would even talk to you if it weren’t for me.”
That wasn’t what she meant. She simply meant that dead people couldn’t ask for help. But Irene didn’t bother explaining.
She wasn’t good at clearing up misunderstandings, and whenever she tried, it only seemed to make Max angrier.
In such situations, staying silent was best. They say silence is golden, after all.
If that were true, Irene thought she should be a millionaire by now, with the amount of “gold” she’d amassed.
Even as her thoughts wandered, Irene’s hands moved skillfully. In the name of education, the dead person’s heart, lungs, liver, and stomach had all been cut up and left scattered across the professor’s desk.
She believed the least she could do was show some respect to the body, even if it belonged to a criminal. They hadn’t found peace even in death, offering their body to students for dissection.
That’s why Irene stayed behind after every anatomy class to organize the corpses, restoring them as much as possible to how they looked when they arrived.
But today was her last time. Next week, she would be leaving the school.
“There’ll be no one to clean up the corpses anymore.”
Setting the cloth aside, Irene picked up a needle with an indifferent expression.
“Unless I accept Professor Figueras’ offer, of course.”
But she hesitated to take the offer for one reason: the position didn’t come with housing.
Naturally, Irene didn’t have the means to rent her place.
“If I ask my parents… They’ll say no, right?”
Her stepmother, who often remarked on the expense of her education, would surely refuse outright.
She could already hear her voice in her head, full of disapproval.
Irene’s dress was a hand-me-down from Leticia, but she wasn’t foolish enough to mention that.
For now, she had no choice but to either borrow money and find a place or give up on becoming an assistant.
“Focus on the corpse,” she muttered, shaking off her wandering thoughts. Her blue eyes calmed as she steadied her hand.
The needle was just about to pierce the corpse’s skin when—
Click.
The door opened. Irene paused, lowering her hand as she turned to see who had interrupted her.
Divoa stood there, a bright smile as warm as the sunlight streaming in. Behind him, Javier lingered in the shadows like a quiet observer.
They have too much free time.
Ignoring them, Irene returned her attention to the corpse and resumed her work. The sharp needle pierced the thick skin again as she spoke dryly.
“You don’t need to come here anymore, Your Grace. I’ve decided to accept Professor Figueras’ offer.”
“Oh dear.”
Divoa’s exaggerated disappointment was almost comical, his tone so insincere it was clear he didn’t mean it.
There were plenty of talented surgeons besides her. The runner-up graduate, for one, was eager for the position.
But still, Divoa made another attempt.
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
He didn’t know why, but Irene intrigued him. He couldn’t help but want to keep her around, to understand what drove her to cling so stubbornly to life.
Irene remained silent, as usual. Divoa didn’t mind. Her disregard only added to her charm.
As he observed her deft movements, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Her efficiency spoke of countless hours of practice and dedication.
A spark of greed flickered in Divoa’s eyes. No matter what it took, he would bring her to his estate.
