Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

When the red-haired girl chooses to clarify things with Charlotte, her words are not merely a simple statement, but rather a reflection of relief and peace of mind.

Even though she presents herself as a glamorous and pampered noblewoman in public, for the sake of her family and due to the truth, she willingly tears off her disguise and abandons the nobility she has maintained until now, all under the watchful eyes of acquaintances.

It's clear that Sufby had struggled and hesitated before this, but in the end she made up her mind, acknowledged her downfall, and forgot the dignity that she once cherished but now considered insignificant.

Knowing how difficult this decision was for Sophie, Charlotte also had a deeper understanding of the sorrow brewing in this era.

Have you tried calling the police?

"Heh, the police in West Alley never bother to look for a girl who went missing in the port area. Besides, my surname is... Deer."

She pursed her lower lip, a hint of helplessness in her eyes, and gave a dry laugh, almost as if mocking herself.

"It's ironic that they were so obsequious before, and now they're so arrogant."

Instead of simply listening and paying attention to the former's expression, the girl also summarized the main points of the sentence, which led to an unexpected discovery.

The port and the disappearance indicate the location and nature of the incident. When these two are combined, and the prefix "young girl" is added, all kinds of information about the missing girl case immediately come to mind.

Like the sun breaking through the clouds, the Bertrand family's daughter was not on that list. The description from a few days ago was only about a week old. This meant that Singh's assumptions were wrong. This series of cases had not ended, but had progressed, with new victims appearing!

Despite her inner turmoil, Charlotte remained composed, calming herself with just a blink of an eye, and then pressed on with the question that had been lingering in her mind.

"So, why did you think of calling me at this moment?"

"It was just a coincidence. On the day of the interview, I didn't leave very early, and that's when I saw Mr. Singh taking you to the Châteauroux Shooting Club. Of course, this isn't malicious suspicion or conjecture. I know very well that you are different from us. Talented people always receive affection and respect from others."

She spread her hands out and placed them in front of her eyes, watching her once slender fingers lose their whiteness and become increasingly rough, while a thin layer of moisture moistened her blood-red eyes.

"I don't hate Winnie, and I shouldn't have acted arrogantly. Really, I only hate myself, this useless version of myself."

The slam of dignity was like breaking free of shackles. To the first listener, to the girl she had once antagonized, Sofby poured out all her emotions: stubbornness, grievance, inferiority, and despair.

"Just like the denial on that invitation, apart from being a good mother, I am truly useless. After my father died, I could do nothing."

"Talent is meaningless in a factory where you're shirtless and toiling away, knowledge is lost in a noisy alley, and so-called foresight is nothing but arrogant talk from a high place."

Ignoring the other person's identity and whether the listener was paying attention, Sufby bent over, letting Gu Feng touch her thighs, as if she wanted to bury herself in the floor and never let anyone find her again.

“I am not noble; I am no different from those people walking the streets. All I possess is this face, a gift from heaven, for people to admire.”

“My mother said that Mr. Singh is a renowned detective. By relying on him, I can gain some fame, get to know some powerful people, and make it easier to marry into a wealthy family in the future.”

I don't know when it started, but tears began to stream down my face, wetting my makeup that was meant to make me look ugly.

"But I am not willing to accept this, I am not willing to just walk down this predetermined path in life, into a hopeless future."

"At the very least, I want to prove that I can protect my younger sister who lost her father at a young age, and that I can rightfully become her assistant through outstanding performance..."

Without interrupting her, and listening intently to the red-haired girl's trembling voice, it became clear whether she was looking for Detective Singh or working at this restaurant.

Gazing into those tearful eyes, Charlotte remained silent for a moment, a feeling of deep emotion welling up within her.

Unfortunate people often suffer even greater misfortunes because they lack the ability to resist risks and change their circumstances, even former nobles are no exception.

So, according to the storyline, I think I should comfort the other person.

Her silver-gray eyes flickered slightly as she subtly sized up the red-haired girl.

However, before that, I must confirm something—Sophie, are you deliberately putting on this stubborn and pitiful act to gain my sympathy?

Yes, Miss Watson meant well, but she was still a meticulous detective's assistant, and when dealing with people, she always had to distinguish between truth and falsehood.

I glanced at the face soaked with tears, the makeup smudged and messy, the pale skin dulled and lacking its former vibrancy and radiance. To be honest, it was quite unsightly and jarring.

But it's mostly true. People who haven't experienced it firsthand—even those with a similar past—can hardly fake it to this extent. This trace of self-doubt is both a result of life's hardships and a consequence of one's nature.

Since there were no problems, Charlotte naturally wanted to comfort Sophie. After all, she was a beautiful young woman, and if she kept crying beside her, people might misunderstand...

It seems not bad? After all, it's a fragile and tragic red cardinal that fell from heaven to hell.

Oh no, that can't be. Miss Watson is a kind-hearted, honest, polite, and sassy person, and most importantly, she's determined.

As if sensing the girl's intention, Sufby quickly sat up, wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, and forced a calm demeanor. "Thank you for listening so much. I'm fine, and you don't need to comfort me."

"While our meeting today was a coincidence, it's quite important to me. If possible, could you please mention it to Mr. Singh?"

"enough!"

Her voice abruptly stopped, unlike its previous gentle tone. The girl's voice, which had been slightly somber, lost its calmness and took on a deliberately sharp edge.

“I think you’ve misunderstood. I don’t like comforting others, nor do I like to be presumptuous. The reason I listened to you for so long was simply because I initially thought you were worthy to stand on my side, understand?”

Once the peacock loses its arrogance, it's just an ordinary character. Charlotte doesn't want to see so many different faces at first glance; she still prefers Suf's unruly and charming appearance.

Besides, comforting a peacock that has fallen from a branch often requires abandoning the conventional and using an unconventional approach. Perhaps it's a bit extreme, but Charlotte is quite interested in it.

You can't expect someone with a mindset of 'absolute freedom' to suppress their nature and restrain their words and actions in their spare time.

So, she danced gracefully, leaned slightly forward, and whispered a soft, moist breath into his ear.

Even the most beautiful flower needs green leaves to set it off. You were originally a bright and noble pearl, instinctively placing yourself on a higher pedestal alongside me. But now, you willingly shed your disguise before my eyes, revealing your most despicable and cowardly side, completely unaware of how to conceal your vulnerability. I can conclude that—

"Are you trying to make me degenerate too, Sophoby?"

Her pale lips exhaled warm breath, which brushed against Sofby's earlobe, causing it to flush with an indescribable blush.

Her thoughts drifted into a hazy state, her head growing increasingly dizzy. When she saw that sweet smile and heard that teasing whisper, she instinctively felt embarrassed and annoyed, and cried out.

“Josephine, Josephine Watson! I am—”

Before the words could be uttered, a slender finger gently pressed against the lips, stopping the rest of the conversation.

"Shh, tie up your loose hair, regain your manners, and remember to address me as Miss Watson with the humility of a lady."

"I don't want to be accompanied by a droopy duck; after all, that would be a real downer."

Of course, despite saying that, Charlotte listened to all the other people's grievances. It was her duty to do so, so she might as well add one more thing to the list.

Changing her previous assertive stance, she took a step back, giving the other person some breathing space, and relaxed her fingers, seemingly casually murmuring something.

"As a criminal investigation assistant, I do have an obligation to accept this case. But as the employer, please also portray yourself as someone who is anxious, desperate, and desperate, and can only rely on me for everything."

With her lips slightly parted and her face flushed, Sophie was clearly not yet able to adapt to the changes in the young girl and understand the meaning of the words. However, she couldn't help but clutch her skirt and, following the previous statement, twist out a look of worry and pity.

"Very good. Then, tell me the detailed information I have, including your usual workplace, the approximate time of your disappearance, and the people you have been in contact with."

Even though she was sharp-tongued, her words clearly meant she agreed. Surprised and grateful, the red-haired girl also remembered her own predicament.

She lowered her head silently, her voice seemed to grow even softer, and even the bird feathers that were just beginning to flutter drooped.

"...I have no money."

"Ah."

Charlotte pulled down her hat brim, picked up her cane, and simply smiled slightly.

"Well, actually, Miss Watson does do volunteer work occasionally."

Seeing that pretty face lift up again, filled with surprise, the girl's upturned lips became even more radiant.

"After all, acts of kindness always bring her great satisfaction."

The prerequisite is that she is willing and encounters someone who is willing to help.

Unsolicited help limited to a single instance, similar circumstances, both framed – isn't this the perfect template to validate the suspicion of acquittal? Furthermore, she detected the scent of oil paint on the former's clothing, suggesting Miss Sofby has another identity.

Well, an artist, plus the upcoming Flower Exhibition—this is practically a gift delivered to my doorstep. With this relationship of unconditional assistance, surely they won't refuse any reasonable requests?

Miss Sophie, I hope you will remember in the future that free things are always the most expensive.

Chapter Twelve: The Veil of the Extraordinary?

Marais District, a street near a drainage ditch.

"Is this... your current place of residence?"

Stopping to observe her surroundings, Charlotte found it difficult to call the place in front of her home.

It was a dilapidated house. The roof tiles had long since fallen off, and most of the plaster on the walls had also peeled off, revealing sections of white brick debris.

After being entrusted with the task and volunteering, she followed the red-haired girl through twists and turns to this cramped row of low-rise buildings to collect clues and reconstruct the scene.

To be honest, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would never have imagined that there would be such a dirty and chaotic area in the Marais district.

Perhaps noticing the girl's surprise, Sufby forced a smile.

"Sorry, did I scare you?"

Since abandoning all pretense of dignity and revealing her true situation, this once peacock has become like a veil of shame removed, speaking frankly and openly without any concealment.

If Charlotte hadn't confirmed through subtle changes in her facial expressions that it wasn't intentional, she would have wondered if the other person was subtly trying to embarrass her.

It's no wonder that Sophie was poor at judging people and couldn't see that Miss Watson was also a poor man. The girl was dressed appropriately, walked with elegance, spoke eloquently, and behaved with propriety, making it hard to regard her as an ignorant commoner.

That is why the red-haired girl always felt nervous when facing Charlotte, and always tried to hold her head high, uphold the dignity of the old aristocracy, and not let the former look down on her.

However, what the girl said next was beyond her expectations.

"No, Sophie. At the crime scene, I am first and foremost a detective, and only secondly Miss Watson."

Charlotte's high-top leather boots splashed through puddles, staining the leather black, but this did not disturb her composure or dampen her usual calm.

"Moreover, the procedures for collecting clues should not be affected by the harshness of the environment; this is a matter of professional ethics."

Without paying any attention, I continued to walk, and in an instant, the measurement with my hands and eyes and the smell with my ears and nose gathered a wealth of information, forming a palace of thought.

The townhouses are cramped and low-lying, with drainage ditches nearby. Perhaps the only advantage of living here is the cheap rent.

"I need to know the specifics about your sister. Now, I'll ask questions, and you can answer."

Taken aback by the ease with which this transformation occurred, it was as if she were meeting Charlotte for the first time. Despite Charlotte's calm and aloof tone, Sophie inexplicably felt a surge of longing for her.

Given time, she hopes to regain that composure and confidence.

“My mother knows more than I do. She should be inside now. We can go in and talk.”

Pointing to one of the low-rise buildings, the red-haired girl softly asked the young woman for her opinion.

"it is good."

There was no refusal; the closer one got to the scene, the more crucial clues one could obtain.

Approaching the room, Charlotte noticed the worn-out threshold and the old, dim coal lamp. Before even stepping inside, she felt an unusual dampness.

Looking inside, one could see rows of wet clothes hanging high up, and a woman in her thirties or forties squatting in front of a basin, washing something that was bubbling and foaming.

A much younger girl was carefully handling previously washed and dried clothes with a red-hot branding iron wrapped in a damp cloth. Her movements were cautious, as if the iron had been steamed many times before. Judging from her appearance, she was likely another of Sofby's younger sisters.

Perhaps hearing the creak of the door opening, the middle-aged woman slowly raised her head and looked at Sufby, who had entered first.

Her forehead was etched with wrinkles, her hands were dry and red, and the hair coiled behind her head, though still bearing some red, was withered and dull, as if it had been washed away by the years.

Perhaps, one can only glimpse her former radiant beauty from her slender waist and thin, bony frame.

"came back?"

It was unclear who she was asking the question to; the woman's voice was dry and hoarse, like a crow gnawing on a rotting corpse deep in the forest, and the red-haired girl responded without any hesitation.

"Ah."

After speaking, he took the washed clothes, skillfully tiptoed, and hung them on the high shelf.

Whether she believed it or not, the facts before her eyes clearly told Charlotte that they were a mother and daughter, a wealthy family who had once enjoyed the honor of an earl.

Hey.

Amidst her fluctuating emotions, her steps became slightly unsteady, and the somewhat discordant sounds made the middle-aged woman raise her head and belatedly notice the visitor.

"You, who are you?"

Looking up from the leather boots, she saw the polyester trousers that fit snugly against her body, and the clean white lining that accentuated her figure. She couldn't help but use polite language, and this attitude was more like the cautiousness one would show when facing a powerful or wealthy person than when dealing with a stranger.

"Mother, she is mine..."

Upon seeing this, Sufby instinctively wanted to speak, but the words caught in her throat—she didn't know how to describe her relationship with the girl.

Fortunately, Charlotte couldn't bear to see a young woman embarrassed in front of her family, so she simply placed her hands on her chest, bowed slightly, and helped the young woman out of the predicament, while also acknowledging their involvement.

"friend."

“Yes, yes, Josephine… no, Miss Watson is a new friend of mine.”

Feeling grateful, Sufby's ears turned slightly red as she recalled what had happened earlier, and she immediately corrected her form of address.

Only after receiving that affirmation did the woman's gaze shift from the girl's clothing, her guard lessening and her expression softening.