Chapter 4

“My lady!”

The office door burst open, and a man rushed inside.

His golden hair was disheveled, damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead.

Normally, it would have been neatly slicked back with pomade, but judging by its messy state, he must have hurried here in a panic.

“Sir Lau.”

Lucy called his name softly.

The man strode forward, then dropped to his knees before her.

His expression was twisted with anguish, as if this entire situation was causing him deep suffering.

Looking up at Lucy, he finally spoke.

“My lady, I am truly sorry. I should have been by your side…”

From the way things looked, Sir Lau must have heard about the earlier commotion and rushed over to find Lucy.

Lucy reached out and gently patted his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Sir Lau. I’m not hurt.”

“But my lady…”

“It wasn’t me. My friend shielded me and took the blow instead.”

Lucy turned to him, her voice steady.

“Sir Lau, do you have any medicine with you?”

“Ah, I do have some painkillers, but… nothing to apply directly to the wound.”

Sir Lau finally turned his head, his gaze landing on Charlotte for the first time.

It was as if he had only just realized she was there.

“I’m fine, Lucy. It doesn’t hurt that much, and there’s plenty of medicine here if I need it.”

“Still, Charlotte…”

Charlotte shook her head, cutting off Lucy’s concern before it could continue.

Then, rising from her chair, she spoke in a gentle tone.

“You’ve barely had time to recover from the shock, and now this happened too. You should go home and rest, Lucy. I need to get back to work anyway, so let’s talk again later.”

“…Alright. Thank you. You noticed, didn’t you?”

Lucy hesitated for a moment before slowly standing up.

Charlotte reached out and gently took her trembling hand.

She was still shaken.

“Who else would notice if not me?”

Lucy didn’t respond—she simply smiled faintly, saying nothing.

Sir Lau carefully supported her, guiding her toward the door.

Just before stepping out, Lucy paused, as if she wanted to say something.

But in the end, she only murmured—

“…Goodbye, Charlotte.”

And with that, she fell silent and walked away.

“Yeah. See you next time, Lucy.”

“Alright.”

Charlotte watched Lucy’s retreating figure in silence.

I can’t believe I even doubted her, even for a second.

Shaking her head, she sat back down at her desk.

Then, she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began writing a new report.

Just outside the office, Lucy suddenly paused.

She turned back, her eyes drifting to the small gap in the still-open door.

Through it, she caught a glimpse of Charlotte, her hand moving swiftly, pen gliding across the paper as she wrote.

Lucy watched as Charlotte carefully dried the ink, folded the paper neatly, and slipped it into an envelope.

Her gaze remained fixed on her friend’s movements.

And beneath the veil draped over her face—

Her lips twisted.

A strange, unreadable shape.

“My lady?”

Sir Lau’s voice called her back to the present.

Only then did Lucy turn away, resuming her steps.

But that faint distortion in her lips—

It lingered.

For a long, long time.

Charlotte clutched the documents tightly to her chest, stepping forward with careful precision.

And immediately—

She collided headfirst with someone who was rushing past.

“Ugh!”

“I’m sorry!”

The man barely spared her a glance before bolting away.

Under normal circumstances, Charlotte would have been furious.

But right now?

She was too overwhelmed to care.

Not even a festival street would be this chaotic.

People were rushing in every direction, their hurried movements turning the space into a storm of bodies and noise.

Shouts rang out from all sides, as people yelled over the commotion, trying to be heard in the madness.

Charlotte pushed forward, weaving through the crowd until she found a small corner to breathe.

It had taken her five collisions just to make it here.

“…What a disaster.”

Had she miscalculated?

She glanced down at the report in her hands, letting out a small, frustrated groan.

After compiling her report on Robert Turove, whom she believed to be deeply connected to Alex Turove’s death, Charlotte had gone straight to the director.

The moment Amila saw her, she let out a deep sigh and motioned for her to sit.

Charlotte sank into the couch, while Amila took the seat across from her, practically dropping into it.

“Good, you’re here. Let me start first.”

Her voice was drained, completely devoid of energy.

Hearing the sheer exhaustion in her tone, Charlotte smirked wryly and gave a small nod.

Amila pinched her temples, her eyes tightly shut as she let out another long sigh.

“So… the autopsy results. Are they certain?”

“They are.”

Amila muttered something under her breath before rubbing her forehead again.

Then, shaking her head, she exhaled sharply.

“Well… at the very least, it’s what the Turove family wanted.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Normally, they would’ve just held the funeral at the church near his estate. But the family insisted on bringing him here for an autopsy. What does that tell you?”

“That a simple natural death or an accident… wouldn’t be acceptable to them.”

Charlotte muttered the words under her breath, and the director, now leaning back deeply into her chair, nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. And now, the official cause of death is poisoning—suspected homicide.”

“Will there be an investigation?”

“Of course. The police are probably already rounding up all the suspicious individuals for questioning.”

“Then…!”

Charlotte slammed the report onto the table and pushed it forward toward the director.

She opened her mouth, ready to explain everything she had uncovered.

But Amila beat her to it.

“By the way—what exactly is your relationship with Baroness Turove?”

“What?”

“Are you two close?”

“Ah, yes… we’re friends.”

Hearing Charlotte’s response, Amila let out a deep sigh.

“Then you should step away from this case.”

“What?! Why?”

“Do you really need me to explain?”

Amila clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“The prime suspect in this case is Baroness Turove. She stands to gain a massive fortune from her husband’s death, and she had plenty of opportunities to poison him. Even the Turove family has already pointed to her as the likely culprit.”

“No! Lucy would never do something like that!”

“That’s what you think. But tell me, Charlotte—who exactly is the kind of person who would? People change depending on the situation.”

The director rose from her seat.

“There is no room for personal opinion in our work. We only believe what we see in front of us. And right now, your friend is a suspect. I can’t trust that you’ll remain objective.”

She crossed her arms, her voice firm.

“The moment the Turove family finds out about this, they’ll protest—loudly. And let’s not forget, you already defended the baroness in front of them. I managed to smooth things over this time, saying you simply couldn’t stand by and watch a lady get struck. But if this keeps happening, even that excuse won’t hold.”

Charlotte wanted to argue.

But what could she say?

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

“Everyone here works hard. If we lose credibility over one case, that puts this entire facility at risk. And I refuse to let that happen. You understand that, don’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Then go. Eugene pulled another late shift last night—go help him out.”

With heavy footsteps, Charlotte left the director’s office.

Is this… really the end?

The thought lingered in her dazed mind.

She didn’t blame the director.

After all, she knew how much effort it had taken to bring this autopsy facility to where it was today.

Charlotte hadn’t witnessed it firsthand, but she had heard the stories.

And every time she saw the director working tirelessly, day and night, it was clear—this place meant everything to her.

Charlotte dragged her feet forward, her steps slow and heavy.

There was nothing to argue against in the director’s words.

Hadn’t she herself suspected Lucy at first?

Lucy was, by all logical reasoning, the most likely suspect.

And in a case like this, having a friend step forward to defend her wouldn’t just harm Charlotte—it would harm the entire autopsy facility.

But Lucy would never do something like that.

Charlotte pursed her lips, muttering under her breath.

If the police investigation had already begun, then Lucy was surely being questioned.

And Lucy…

Lucy was the kind of person who bottled everything up, who swallowed her stress in silence.

Every time something like this happened, she ended up sick in bed.

Charlotte sighed deeply, shaking her head as she imagined Lucy feverish and struggling to breathe.

Then—

A sign entered her field of vision.

[→ METROPOLITAN POLICE DEPARTMENT]

The autopsy facility had only become independent in recent years.

Not long ago, it had still been under police jurisdiction, which was why the two stood side by side, buildings directly adjacent to each other.

Charlotte’s fingers tightened around her documents.

The papers crinkled in her grip, the rough texture scratching against her palms.

She swallowed hard.

“The police are probably already rounding up all the suspicious individuals for questioning.”

The director’s words echoed loudly in her mind.

In Charlotte’s opinion, Lucy’s testimony about Robert Turove was critical.

If anyone in the police department heard it, they couldn’t ignore the possibility that he was involved.

It could shift the entire direction of the investigation, placing Robert under intense scrutiny.

But that would only happen if someone actually listened.

Right now, Lucy was the primary suspect.

Which meant the police were most likely flooding every witness with questions about her, about her movements, about her relationship with Baron Turove.

And if that was the case—

Robert Turove’s suspicious behavior might never even come to light.

“Then you should step away from this case.”

The director’s warning resurfaced in her mind.

When she first heard it, Charlotte hadn’t even considered disobeying.

But now—

She bit down hard on her lip and shook her head.

Delivering one report wasn’t a big deal.

What difference was there between this and the autopsy report she had already submitted?

If anything, this was even better.

This document didn’t contain her opinion, only a factual record of what she had heard.

Charlotte drew in a deep breath—

And stepped forward toward the arrow on the sign.

For a brief moment, she thought of Eugene, buried in a mountain of paperwork, probably wondering where she was.

‘I’m sorry, senior. I’ll come help you soon.’

That small promise floated through her mind—

But it was a promise she wouldn’t keep.

Because if the autopsy facility was always busy, the police department was an entirely different level of chaos.

Just standing there and watching them work was enough to make Charlotte’s head ache.

Finding out who was actually in charge of the Baron Turove case?

That, she quickly realized—

Was going to be impossible.