The shock of losing someone close, even if not blood-related, doesn’t fade easily.

Debbie felt burdened by the reality of having to research another s*xual experience during what had been only a few days of mourning.

“So please help me avoid any problems,” Louis pleaded. Debbie reluctantly nodded and subtly changed the subject.

“How is the editor-in-chief doing? I should visit him in the hospital.”

“I heard he received a four-week recovery diagnosis. He said it might take longer depending on the situation.”

“So which hospital is he in? I’m worried since he was badly injured.”

“The president will handle that appropriately.”

Debbie bit her lip firmly.

“Speaking of columns, you know La Vie en Rose bar, right? I’m thinking of interviewing another dancer there. Would you approve my proposal?”

“Sure, why not.”

Louis readily accepted Debbie’s request.

* * *

Though she had said she would go to La Vie en Rose, Debbie’s steps led her to Voluptas instead.

“I’m looking for Mr. Fret.”

She asked the hall manager whom she had briefly seen before, but he shook his head. “He’s away.”

“Then could you introduce me to someone else who has delegated authority? Or perhaps someone from the hotel management? I need to urgently contact the president.”

Debbie handed her business card to the hall manager.

“The president is also the owner of our magazine.”

“Then why not contact the president through your supervisor?”

“Well, the president hospitalized him, and we don’t know where.”

Blake’s reclusive owner style was causing headaches. He supposedly lived on the hotel’s top floor, but the problem was that not just anyone could access that level.

She could contact him through Gray or Fret, but with both absent, there was no way to reach him.

‘If I had known this would happen, I should have accepted Blake’s offer to drive me home after the celebration,’ she thought. Even if she didn’t want to ask him for help, Blake was her highest-level connection.

The person the hall manager recommended to Debbie was the gray-haired butler she had seen before.

“Good day.”

The butler greeted Debbie with a warm smile.

“If you had presented your card at the entrance, I would have come to escort you immediately.”

“Pardon? My card?”

Debbie asked with a puzzled expression.

“Didn’t the master give you a card?”

“He gave me a card?”

“Yes, the master gives specially made cards to special individuals allowing them access to the reception room anytime.”

Debbie scratched her head but couldn’t recall receiving anything specific from Blake. So she improvised.

“I lost my wallet once, and I must have lost that card then too.”

“Oh dear…”

The butler clicked his tongue.

“By the way, what brings you here requesting a meeting?”

“I have an important research matter I need to consult with the editor-in-chief about. But since he’s hospitalized, I can’t reach him. If you could just tell me which hospital, I’ll go there myself.”

The butler quietly replied, “Mr. Gray Turning is in no condition to speak, so a hospital visit would be meaningless.”

“Is he that unwell?”

Wasn’t it just a four-week recovery? Usually, that wouldn’t indicate injuries serious enough to render someone unconscious.

Debbie sensed something strange and tilted her head.

“Is the president busy with the Lorraine incident too?”

“I don’t know much about his private life either.”

At the butler’s response, Debbie’s energy drained, and she started to leave the hotel. But then she heard voices calling after her.

“Excuse me, are you the reporter who came to interview Lorraine last time?”

Three or four dancers from Voluptas had secretly followed Debbie and stopped her.

“It is her! The person who came asking questions before!”

“What happened to Lorraine?”

One dancer burst into tears upon seeing Debbie.

“Please tell us! Why won’t they let us even ask about her?”

“They’ve imposed a ban on going out. They’ve confined us to our quarters to prevent us from contacting anyone outside. They’ve silenced us about Lorraine and cut us off from the outside world for reasons we don’t understand.”

One dancer kept looking around nervously, apparently keeping watch, while the other two clung to Debbie with anxious faces.

“If a stalker had been following her regularly, we would have noticed before anyone else. Lorraine was our establishment’s star performer, so managers and staff always accompanied and assisted her. The story about her being kidnapped while going home alone doesn’t make sense.”

“It was probably Baron Bakran’s revenge.”

“What?”

Seeing Debbie’s startled face, the dancer explained.

“You didn’t know? He’s a loan shark who kept bothering Lorraine. His superior, Count Shambali, would also make advances at her whenever possible.”

“That’s why Mr. Fret personally provided security for her for a while.”

“Unfortunately, this happened while Mr. Fret was temporarily away…”

“According to the newspaper, the stalker turned himself in.”

“It’s nothing for them to set up someone who’s being hounded for debt by Baron Bakran.”

This was unexpected information.

Another dancer pleaded with Debbie.

“Please spare us some time. I heard you went to Centum Theater that day. Did you meet Lorraine? How was she? We’ve pooled money to hire a private detective, so please tell us what you saw that day.”

“That day, wasn’t there another dancer besides me? Didn’t she tell you anything?”

Debbie asked, puzzled.

“Who?”

“The Voluptas dancer who came with Lorraine to the founding festival after-party. I don’t know her name, but she had black hair and sharp features…”

“A dancer who accompanied Lorraine? Who could that be? None of us accompanied Lorraine that day…”

Debbie tilted her head at their response. Wasn’t there clearly a dancer who had directed her to the small auditorium?

“We’ll check if there was a black-haired dancer with Lorraine that day.”

“Could it be Mildred who joined recently?”

“Who is Mildred?”

Debbie asked again about the unfamiliar name.

“A woman Lorraine recently brought in as staff to assist her. Come to think of it, Mildred hasn’t shown up since that day either.”

Just then, someone approached the dancer keeping watch and whispered in her ear. Debbie was startled to recognize the face.

It was Meryl, the hometown friend who worked at the hotel, whom Lorraine had mentioned before.

“Bezel is looking for you. Hurry back before you’re caught. I’ll ask the rest.”

“Meryl, we’re counting on you.”

At the mention of someone named Bezel, the dancers fled back inside, leaving only Meryl and Debbie.

Wearing a name tag with the title of Hotel Manager, Meryl guided Debbie along, acting like they had met many times before.

“There are too many eyes here. Let’s go inside to talk.”

Unusually dressed in pants like a man and wearing a navy blue uniform, Meryl had her hair tightly pulled up without a single strand out of place and wore square-framed glasses, giving her a cold impression.

However, even that cold face showed reddened eyes.

“Meryl, Lorraine told me you were here. I should have come to find you earlier, but it’s unfortunate we’re meeting under these circumstances.”

The hometown friend whose contact had been cut off abruptly and whom she was meeting again as an adult felt very unfamiliar, but Lorraine had connected them this way.

Meryl took Debbie to the changing room and lounge attached to the manager’s room and closed the door.

“Tell me what happened too.”

“Did you see the newspaper article?”

“Anyone can tell it’s nonsense.”

“Exactly! How could Lorraine be a courtesan?”

“I demanded a correction as soon as I saw that article, but they ignored me!”

Meryl’s breathing became rough.

“All the Voluptas dancers pooled money to request an advertisement refuting the claims, but we lost the money and the rebuttal ad was blocked by censorship!”

Meryl gripped the newspaper on the table like she was about to tear it apart.

“With the excuse that ongoing investigations can’t be contradicted until results are released!”

“I went to the security office for questioning too, but instead of a proper investigation, they acted like they wanted me to follow a pre-written script.”

Debbie told Meryl about her experience.

She shared everything she had told Security Officer Jeffrey Brown, just slightly omitting the parts related to the phantom thief.

“…so I was running to report to the nearest security office when someone knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I was in my home, which was scary and bewildering. The editor-in-chief had disappeared somewhere, so I went to work to confront him, but a security officer came and took me to the security office.”

“Do you remember what those men who took Lorraine looked like? I want to search for them again, even using a different detective agency.”

Meryl’s determination seemed just as strong as the dancers’.

“Give me your notebook. I’ll try to sketch them.”

Debbie drew Lorraine’s final appearance and the characteristics of those who were with her. Though not elaborate, she sketched them roughly, similar to how she would reference magazine fashion corner layouts.

“Thank you, Debbie.”

Meryl took the notebook with tears in her eyes.

“It seems someone is trying to cover this up, but we can’t let that happen. The real culprit must face consequences.”

“Yes, absolutely.”

‘What can someone who works for an adult magazine do?’ seemed inadequate when Fret, guest columnist AB, had managed to do something. That’s why she couldn’t stand by and watch.

Looking at Debbie’s determination, Meryl stroked her sideburns and lowered her gaze.

“Debbie, actually, I heard about you from Lorraine and saw you every time you came here, but I didn’t approach you. I’m sorry.”

Debbie was a bit surprised by Meryl’s words.

“You saw me?”

Meryl carefully tucked her sideburns behind her ear and kept her gaze down.

“Most of us lived terrible lives after our parents died. When I heard rumors that only you were selected as a ‘special scholarship student’ to attend a prestigious school, all sorts of thoughts crossed my mind.”

“What?”

“With parents executed as traitors, do you think their children would be left alone? Children sent to forced labor camps couldn’t endure the work and died early. Jessie and Kina too. Only a few survived.”

“Forced labor camps?”

Debbie’s voice trembled.

“Why? Is this the first you’re hearing of it?”

Meryl smiled bitterly.

“Completely. I knew nothing. I just thought we lost contact.”

“Well, knowing your personality, I don’t think you flattered or impressed someone to gain such fortune, so I don’t blame you. Just as our misfortune isn’t your responsibility.”

Meryl sighed, seemingly collecting her emotions.

“I hated you so much whenever times were tough, thinking how lucky you were. I wished I had been the one example who was saved. It’s good to see you again now that we’re grown. It would have been better if Lorraine were alive to meet together.”

Tears flowed down Meryl’s cheeks again.

“I hope you keep your promise to investigate Lorraine’s death.”

Her tears gathered at the tip of her chin before dropping to the floor, leaving a dark mark.

“Since you shared Lorraine’s final moments, please help resolve her resentment. I’m begging you.”

Debbie grasped Meryl’s hand.

“Was there anything related to the name ‘Charlotte’ with Lorraine?”

“Charlotte?”

Meryl rested her chin on her hand, seemingly searching her memory, then tilted her head.