To Be the Perfect Childhood Friend - Chapter 65

At that moment, the sound of the doorbell rang, and Rutger entered. He had a long bat in his hand, indicating he had been somewhere.

“Hey, Rut, want some lemon pie?”

“…No, thanks.”

‘Rut.’ An unexpectedly cute nickname. As Anita pondered this, Rutger finally noticed her presence, making his already gruff expression even colder.

“Hello…?”

As Anita cautiously extended her hand for a handshake, Rutger ascended the stairs without a word. Once he disappeared from view, Anita lowered her hand, feeling a bit disheartened.

“Do you think he hates me that much?”

Seeing Anita’s pouty face, Mrs. Baylan looked at her with a face that seemed on the verge of laughter or tears.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s not your fault…”

After sighing several times, Mrs. Baylan placed a freshly baked lemon pie on Anita’s plate. Anita tasted a bite with her fork.

Ugh..

Sour. With a painful expression, Anita swallowed the pie. Witnessing Anita’s discomfort, Mrs. Baylan couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

“Can’t you eat anything new, unlike your mom?”

Anita didn’t know whether to answer honestly or not. After stroking her hair a few times, Mrs. Baylan placed a few slices of pie on her plate.

“Anita, wait here for a moment.”

“Okay.”

Mrs. Baylan went upstairs, holding the plate. She probably intended to bring it to Rutger. As Anita was left alone, she contemplated whether to run away, as she didn’t have the confidence to finish the pie. Nevertheless, feeling it impolite to leave food prepared by Mrs. Baylan, Anita reluctantly took another bite.

After a while, Mrs. Baylan returned downstairs, her face slightly stiff. Without saying anything, she passed by Anita and went outside. A few moments later, a loud bang rang out from upstairs.

Clang.

Anita winced at the loud shattering sound. Suddenly, the opening lines of the mystery novel she’d read last night began to play in her head.

[She rushed to the sound, but the room was already covered in blood. Shards of broken vases and long strands of hair hanging down. Steaming blood oozing from a severed head. It’s a case!]

Could it be that a burglar had broken into Rutger’s room through the window? Or was it an assassin?

Anita, at the curious age of 7, cautiously slid down from her high chair, her arms clutching a thick book she had borrowed from the library, The Truth About Red Feet.

In truth, Anita had a source of unfounded confidence. Her father, Nathan Rodel, was a successful lawyer. To young Anita, a lawyer dealing with crime-related matters seemed invincible, so she trusted only her father and could act bravely.

Since her parents were right next door, Anita figured that if anything went wrong, she could just scream if she needed to. Anita climbed the stairs to the second floor with the agility of a cat. The fluffy carpeting on the stairs muffled her footsteps.

Upon finally reaching the second floor, Anita found herself in a state of confusion.

‘Which room is it?’

A long corridor stretched out with more than eight doors on either side. With the absence of any loud noises, could it be safe now?

Anita dismissed the thought and tossed it in the trash. People naturally become more alert during moments of silence. In this quiet atmosphere, it appeared likely that the murderer had either gotten away Or hiding.

Now, Anita’s thoughts were flowing quite dramatically. While major incidents may not happen frequently in a typical residential area, considering the novel she had read, where incidents occurred regularly, she couldn’t take the situation lightly.

“Rutger, just listen to me.”

“Get out!”

“I think you’re misunderstanding me, and I want you to know that I….”

“I said get out of my room.”

Kidnapper?

Anita, tense with anticipation, swallowed hard at the sound of approaching voices and took a step towards the room where the conversation was audible.

Thunk.

As Anita brought her ear close to the door, it suddenly opened. Startled, Anita gasped, her mouth hanging open. A tall man, upon seeing Anita standing in the corridor, sighed and swept his hair back.

“Anita? What are you doing here?”

Rather than asking a question, he seemed to be scolding Anita, who had overheard the conversation between a father and a son. Anita, without a chance to explain, Anita fumbled for an excuse.

“Uh, well, I came to eat lemon pie, not really to come in. Um, that… sorry, I overheard everything.”

Perhaps realizing scolding a little girl who barely reached his waist was not the best move, the man advised more as a suggestion than reprimand and went downstairs.

“Goodbye, Mr. Baylan…”

Anita muttered a farewell down the empty corridor.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

An annoyed voice came from behind, making Anita jump. Rutger leaned against the doorframe, fists clenched, glaring at Anita.

“M-me? I was about to leave. But are your hands okay?”

“My hands?”

Rutger finally realizing he was hurt. There was a trickle of blood running down his palm and he didn’t even notice. It was a stoic reaction that was incomprehensible to Anita, who cried at the slightest injury.

“Tetanus…”

“Are you kidding? It’s just a scratch.”

“But there’s blood on the floor…”

Anita, as if witnessing a horrifying scene, half-covered her eyes with her hand and spoke. Seeing her reaction, Rutger clicked his tongue. Without properly examining the injured area, he dismissed it.

“Fine. Just go. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“No. Do you want me to treat it, or do you want Mr. Baylan to treat it?”

When Anita firmly declared, Rutger’s face hardened. As if he couldn’t bear to imagine it, he reluctantly opened the door slightly, allowing Anita to enter.

“Fine, do it yourself.”

“But where’s the first aid kit?”

At Anita’s stupid question, Rutger put his free hand to his forehead. Why is she so clueless?

A long moment passed, followed by a loud clatter on the stairs, and Anita burst through the door, breathing heavily.