The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 38

“I don’t think so. If that were the case, knowing Claire’s personality, she wouldn’t have let Jenine go so easily. But the servant only took the diary.”

 

Pacing back and forth quickly, Shailoh was lost in thought. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to look at Jenine. “The servant who took the diary, since when have you seen the servant, Jenine?”

 

“Um… not long. I heard he started working about a year ago.”

 

“…I see.” Shailoh paused, letting out a heavy sigh as if pondering something. Then she grabbed a coat from the rack by the entrance and put it on.

 

“Milady? Where are you going?”

 

“It seems it’s true that I haven’t earned Olivier’s complete trust, Doris.”

 

“What?”

 

“Or… maybe Olivier is just a step ahead of me.”

 

While Doris stood there wide-eyed at the cryptic words, Shailoh, biting their lip, gave Jenine an order. “Jenine, call a cab right away.”

 

“Yes!” Nodding, Jenine opened the door and left.

 

Doris, snapping out of her daze, hurriedly followed Shailoh. “Milady, where exactly are you going?”

 

“To Baron Boris’s townhouse.”

 

“What?”

 

Just then, a passing cab that Jenine had hailed stopped right in front of them. Without waiting for the driver to open the door, Shailoh reached out, opened it themselves, and got in. With a look that seemed to ask why she wasn’t getting in, Doris awkwardly climbed in after her.

 

As soon as Shailoh told the coachman their destination, the horses set off. Shailoh gazed out the carriage window, lost in thought.

 

“It was foolish of me to feel guilty about using Olivier for my revenge. Olivier was the one using me.”

 

“Do you think that servant was planted by her?”

 

“If I confront her, I’ll know for sure.”

 

The carriage soon arrived at its destination. Shailoh closed their eyes briefly, then opened them and stepped out of the carriage first.

 

The usually bustling baron’s household was strangely quiet when she arrived. Doris knocked on the door, but there was no response. Sensing something amiss, Doris glanced up at the window but saw no signs of life.

 

“What on earth is going on?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

If her suspicions were correct, having found Oliver’s whereabouts, the place should have been lively, yet it was as silent as a funeral. Shailoh tilted her head in confusion and placed a hand on the doorknob, which unexpectedly turned.

 

“The door… it’s open?”

 

It was late at night. Leaving the door unlocked at this hour was dangerous. A chill ran up the back of her hand at the eerie atmosphere. Shailoh exchanged a glance with Doris before cautiously opening the door and stepping inside.

 

“Olivier?”

 

“…”

 

“Olivier, may I come in?”

 

Although Shailoh called out several times, there was no response. The silence was so thick it felt suffocating, and Shailoh swallowed dryly.

 

As she stepped onto the creaking floorboards and moved further inside, the parlor came into view. Someone was there, despite the initial impression that the place was empty. Sensing potential danger, the guard who had followed quietly held Shailoh back from advancing.

 

As they approached slowly, a woman curled up on the couch came into view in the dimly lit room, where no lights had been turned on. Before Shailoh could speak, recognizing who it was, the woman, hugging her knees, spoke in a hoarse voice.

 

“You’ve come.”

 

“…Olivier.” Shailoh gestured for Doris and the guard to step back, then cautiously sat down beside her in the heavy atmosphere. “What happened?”

 

“Didn’t you come knowing everything…?”

 

Her hair was disheveled, and she was in her pajamas, completely unguarded. As Shailoh pondered what to say, a sense of foreboding creeping in, Olivier threw something onto the carpet.

 

“This…”

 

“It’s a diary. The one you were looking for. And the one I was looking for.”

 

“…So that servant was working for you after all.”

 

“Rather than mine, let’s just say I recruited him. Though it didn’t yield much.”

 

“And then I appeared.”

 

Shailoh rose from the couch and picked up the discarded diary from the floor. Struggling to see the writing, Doris, noticing the difficulty, picked up a stray candle, lit it, and handed it over. Shailoh placed it on the table and began to flip through the diary. With each page turned, a sense of unease gnawed at them.

 

Olivier, who hadn’t lifted her head and kept her face buried between her knees, confessed. “At first, it was just kindness. You were the first person to stand by me in society. I wanted to thank you. I even hoped we could become friends, especially since you’re famous and I love your songs.”

 

“…”

 

“But when I found you, you were alone with Baroness Elton. You claimed it was a chance encounter, but the atmosphere between you two was unmistakably unusual.”

 

“So you had someone investigate me discreetly.”

 

“When I discovered your identity, I nearly fainted. I hadn’t noticed when you were apart, but standing side by side, your hair and eye colors were eerily similar. I couldn’t believe it… that you were the subject of those terrifying rumors from three years ago.”

 

“…Then why didn’t you report me?”

 

“I was curious about why you approached Claire. If those… accusations were true, I would’ve run far away. Yet, instead of hiding, you returned.”

 

Trying to mask their anxiety, Shailoh set the diary down for a moment and clasped her hands together. “It’s late, but I’ll tell you, Olivier. My real name is Shailoh. I was once ‘Claire Diponz,’ but when the real one appeared, I became ‘Shailoh’ again. Now, I’m ‘Sasha Griche.’”

 

“Sasha… Shailoh. It’s a fitting alias.”

 

“I didn’t commit murder. The one who did was Evan Diponz, the heir of the duke.”

 

Shailoh’s heart pounded erratically, as if it would burst from her chest. Except for Sir Roderick, she had never confessed her innocence to anyone. As she anxiously awaited a response, an unexpectedly straightforward reply came.

 

“I thought so.”

 

“…”

 

“Do you believe me?” Her voice trembled.

 

Olivier nodded. “At first, I was suspicious and wary, but you never seemed like someone who could commit murder.”

 

“Olivier…” Something welled up in her throat. Overcome with emotion, Shailoh couldn’t find the words to continue.

 

“Oliver disappeared exactly three years ago, coincidentally. Our interests align. Finding Oliver would have greatly helped in proving your innocence.”

 

Strangely, it was in the past tense.

 

“Would have… helped?”

 

“Look at the last page.”

 

With wide eyes, Shailoh immediately turned to the last page of the diary. It was torn, perhaps out of concern for potential danger. However, even with the remaining half-page, the context was clear. Shailoh read the diary with a trembling voice.

 

“The Grid Merchant Guild Leader died on her twentieth birthday. It was probably Oliver who moved the body. Oliver disappeared that day… The duchess summoned me and several other maids and servants to fabricate a story about Oliver’s disappearance. We just had to follow the well-crafted script.”

 

A heavy silence swept through the room. Olivier, with her head bowed low, muttered in a quiet voice. “I thought it might be something like this. It doesn’t make sense that Oliver never contacted me if he were alive.”

 

“Olivier.”

 

“The Diponz family used my brother like livestock, slaughtering him once he was no longer useful. To cover up his death, they smeared disgraceful lies over his corpse.” Though spoken calmly, her words were filled with seething anger. “Now tell me. This is why I dismissed all the servants, maids, and even the butler.”

 

“…”

 

“Oliver was a really good kid. The idea that he gambled is ridiculous. And the notion that he ran away because of debt is even more absurd.”

 

As Olivier slowly lifted his head, her face was filled with rage. Seeing a reflection of herself from three years ago, Shailoh held her breath. Words of pity or condolences for the deceased were useless. Instead of offering clumsy comfort, she chose silence.

 

“Come on. Tell me.” Perhaps that silence was the answer, as Olivier came down from the couch and grasped Shailoh’s shoulders. With a chilling expression, she urged her. “What do I do now, Shailoh?”