"Lina, do you still hate your father?" Herta's voice was low.
Tears slid down Lina's face at the question.
How could I ever hate my father?
When that incident happened, she had loathed fate, hated the world, and felt that everyone harbored malice.
But her father was the one person she had never hated.
There was nothing Dad could have done about what happened.
He might have been the farm's steward, but he was still just a slave.
What could a slave possibly do?
He even had to be grateful that the young master had spared his daughter's life instead of killing her.
Being a slave was the greatest tragedy of all.
Especially since, as far as Lina knew, her father Charles was already dead.
He had died in the Great Desert.
When she thought of her father, all Lina felt was grief.
Seeing her reaction, Herta understood.
She said softly:
"Lina, your father is still alive."
Lina turned back in disbelief and stared at Herta.
Herta covered Lina's mouth with her hand, signaling her to stay quiet.
Herta smiled and said:
"Go to the Funeral Association in Giantwood City. Your father works there."
Lina nodded, committing the name Funeral Association to memory.
Herta patted Lina's shoulder, her smile fading as she said seriously:
"Don't tell anyone but your father that I told you this. Otherwise, it will bring disaster down on both of us, and even your father will be implicated."
Lina's expression grew solemn.
As someone who worked here, she naturally knew this was no simple matter.
This was a cage! A cage carefully crafted for the diners upstairs!
A suspicion stirred in her mind. Were these two trying to escape?
Reporting them to her superiors might be the best course of action in a situation like this.