“Mr. Stiles…” The butler’s voice shook him from his stupor,
Without warning, he lashed out with a kick to the butler’s side. “What are you standing there for? Get rid of these rats now!
“You must’ve helped her, right? Who knows where you two got these rats and that corpse from, huh?!”
The butler winced, his face contorted with a mix of pain and indignation. I watched the scene unfold, speechless.
The butler was no saint–known for his cunning and wit–but he was nothing more than an employee. Unlike Wendy and the others, he had only ever followed my father’s orders.
“I did no such thing, Mr. Stiles,” he stammered, trying to keep his composure. “That really is Miss Jennifer. You were the one who locked the storage closet. I only just opened it myself.”
The butler’s explanation did nothing to appease my father’s rage. Instead, he jabbed a finger toward the storage closet and snarled.
“Jennifer cannot be dead. That’s fake! She must’ve staged this to run away!
“Just you
wait! When I catch her, I’ll break her legs!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, circling him as though he could sense me. Of course, he couldn’t, but it made me feel better.
