Dorothy closed the diary. Satisfied after committing the story to memory, she returned it to its original place.
"This was a story recorded from a third-person perspective by a woman who lived here two years ago. I can't say how much of it was true, but it's a good story."
"Every Gift of Fate's Blessing has long had its price marked. The Fated Double-Edged Sword can wound others, but it can also wound oneself."
Priest Augustus sighed softly.
"So, don't do bad things, and don't always think about taking what doesn't belong to you."
"Priest, you always manage to say things like that."
Dorothy then smiled at Shade, who stood to the left of the window.
"Detective, didn't a detective from two years ago also appear in this story? Do you know who that was?"
Shade froze, then looked at her in disbelief.
"Could it be—"
Miss Writer's smile was radiant.
"It should have been him. Although the diary didn't mention the detective's surname, it described him as having been hired from somewhere in the city center. What, didn't the detective records at home mention this? The date should have been in the autumn of 1851."
Shade quickly searched through Detective Sparrow's detective records, those interwoven with truth and falsehood.
"Oh, I remember! There really was a similar case. The detective records said he helped someone reclaim their property, but there wasn't much about this women's sanctuary. The record of that case was very brief. Do you know what happened to that disabled man afterward?"
"There was more? That disabled man wasn't a swindler, was he? Was he actually not the widow's stepson?"
Doctor Schneider asked from the doorway. He did not turn around to look at the others, still staring outside.
"No, no, that man truly was the heir