Garden of May

In truth, her entire life had been little more than an attempt to imitate the happiest moments she could still remember.

Her mother’s voice. Her father’s upright posture. His composure, kindness, patience…

And at some point, it had also become a never-ending battle against doubt.

Human memory was imperfect by nature, and the only ‘good adults’ she had around her to observe and learn from were unmotivated schoolteachers earning eighty pounds a month.

In some ways, Rosalyn’s harsh criticism had been right. Vanessa really had buried her entire life inside her parents’ graves.

Even now, whenever she looked into a mirror, she saw her dead parents staring back at her. From them, she had learned everything she knew about the world.

“Thank you for saying that.”

Vanessa smiled, as though deliberately stopping herself from sinking too deeply into sentimentality.

“And thank you for confirming the locket as well. I happened to come across it entirely by chance, so I wasn’t sure whether it truly belonged to my parents.”

“It certainly hasn’t been kept in the best condition. May I ask where you found it?”

“Near our estate… on the street.”

“Then it makes sense that you would doubt it.”

Apparently having come to his conclusions about her character, Benjamin offered her a warm and generous smile. The old man seemed to think their business had concluded. But for Vanessa, this was where the real purpose began.

“There’s one more thing I need you to examine.”

Removing her hat, Vanessa slipped out the folded papers she had hidden inside it. The movement was smooth enough that, to onlookers, it would have appeared as though she were simply fixing the loosened ribbon.

She never knew when she might encounter Benjamin Dawson, so she always carried two particular items on her person. But in a place like this, there were only two things a woman could openly bring inside without drawing suspicion: a parasol or a fan.

She couldn’t very well lift her skirts in public or walk around openly carrying documents, so if she needed to conceal something, her options had always been limited from the start.

Benjamin watched her calmly, like a man long accustomed to seeing women hide secrets in elegant places.

“This is…”

“A copy of the will my father supposedly wrote. It was executed as a notarized document without any challenge to its authenticity, then stored in the state court archives for seven years afterward. I copied it down myself.”

Benjamin looked at the will with mild surprise before taking out a pair of spectacles and slipping them on. After flipping through several pages, he looked up at her in visible astonishment.

“You copied all of this… by hand?”

“Not all of it. There was too much. But while reading through it, I noticed something strange, so I focused mainly on those sections.”

“And what exactly seemed strange?”

“If you look between the third and fourth pages, you’ll notice evidence of an interruption.”

“Is that so? The sentences themselves still make sense.”

“The sentences do. But look at the placement of the period. If the passage truly continued naturally, there shouldn’t be a period at the very beginning of the fourth page.”

“Couldn’t you simply have misplaced it while copying?”

“I only began transcribing it after I discovered the discrepancy. Carefully enough to understand the flow around that section.”

In truth, she had copied far more than this. But there was only so much paper she could fit inside a hat.

Benjamin fell silent as he carefully reread the will. The lines across the bridge of his nose deepened slightly.

“Hm.”

After what felt like an eternity, he finally removed his glasses and set them on the table.

“I believe the earlier portion of the will truly was drafted while I was serving as legal counsel. But this latter section…”

“It changed?”

“Well. It’s been many years, so my memory isn’t perfect. But I don’t believe I ever saw this passage back then. And considering the count’s character at the time, it is rather strange. Either he experienced a profound change of heart after I left… or at the very least, the priorities of the will were significantly altered.”

“Could you tell me exactly what changed?”

Instead of answering, Benjamin quietly studied Vanessa. Only after a long silence did he finally speak again.

“Lady Vanessa.”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid this is no longer something I can discuss carelessly.”

The firmness in the old man’s voice made Vanessa bite down anxiously on her lip.

“You mean…”

“A lawyer cannot simply disclose matters tied to a former client’s honor or trust. I understand that, because this concerns your father, you’re desperate for even the smallest clue. But there are principles one must uphold no matter the circumstances.”

Vanessa looked briefly at the old man’s hands as he folded the will closed.

Then she lifted her gaze.

Benjamin leaned back against his chair once more, looking composed and immovable. The warmth had vanished from his pale blue eyes, replaced once again by cold professionalism.

“I would like to help you. But this matter… is a difficult one.”