Christoph nodded in satisfaction, glaring triumphantly at Maxim as if boasting of a clever child, causing Maxim to wince.

“I’ve checked that much earlier! But it doesn’t prove that it wasn’t an accident!”

Christoph hated stupid people. He also hated stubborn people. But what he hated most was a person who was stupid and stubborn. Maxim was exactly that type of person.

He turned his gaze to Marianne. Relaxing his furrowed brow.

“Marianne, what else do you see?”

“The amount of blood on the carpet is less than expected, given the size of the wound. That means…….”

After a moment of silence, as if gathering her thoughts, she looked at Christoph.

“Was it moved from elsewhere to here? Why?”

The most surprised person, though he didn’t show it, was Christoph. Her reasoning was logical, rational, and valid.

“Perhaps.”

Christoph, seemingly having an inkling of what was going on, looked at the middleaged woman impassively. The next moment, he bent one knee and sat down.

And he lifted the carpet. Dust was thickly layered on the floor beneath.

“The dust has settled under the carpet. The carpet was not originally in this place. You were right, Marianne. The body was moved here along with the carpet. And.”

He slowly stood up and cast a heavy gaze toward the wife standing in front of the kitchen.

“If the blood on the victim’s nails isn’t the victim’s, there’s only one answer.”

“The culprit?”

The woman who unwittingly responded followed Christoph’s gaze, only to wear a shocked expression when she realized who was at the end of it.

Christoph let out a light laugh, murmuring to himself.

“You don’t know how cruel a good person can be, Marianne.”

And I hope you never do.

Marianne looked at the middleaged woman with trembling eyes. The victim’s mother.

“Tsk.”

Maxim approached her with a low click of his tongue. Without asking for consent, he aggressively rolled up her sleeves with rough hands. Her forcibly pushedup sleeves revealed.

“…….”

Her arms were clean.

“Ha.”

Maxim looked at Christoph with a mocking laugh. Christoph’s eyebrows twitched. A fleeting sneer crossed Maxim’s lips, just as a young boy poked his head out from the kitchen.

Suddenly, all expression drained from Maxim’s face. Following his gaze, the middleaged woman frantically grabbed Maxim’s arm.

“I did it, I…! I accidentally hit Mary. I killed Mary!”

Her sharp voice was like a desperate scream. The silence that followed her cry was even more still and cold than before.
Maxim furrowed his brows. It wasn’t as though he had been living as a detective for a joke either. The intuition he had built up over 7 years pulled at his back. And in such cases, one hundred out of a hundred, his intuition was right.

Maxim shook off the woman who was clutching his arm and walked towards the boy. The boy seemed frightened by Maxim’s approaching bulk, and hunched his shoulders.

He grabbed both of the boy’s arms without a word.

“Ahh!”

The boy screamed, causing a stir. Marianne instinctively moved towards him.

“Maxim! The child……!”

But Maxim was quicker. He quickly rolled up the boy’s sleeve.

“…….”

Suddenly, her steps halted. There were two red lines on the slender arm. Fresh, vivid marks were oozing blood.

Thud.

A middleaged woman fell to her knees in that spot. Maxim violently restrained the boy, and the child finally burst into tears.

“Let’s hear the full story at the police station.”

Maxim announced in an authoritative manner. The middleaged woman closed her eyes with a griefstricken expression, and Marianne stood dumbfounded, staring at the boy.

“Mom! Mom!”

The frightened boy crying out.

“Mom! I’m scared! I don’t want to go! Mom! Ahhhh!”

What should this emotion be described as?

It was different from bitterness. It was different from confusion. Compassion was even further from it. …No, it was an emotion mixed with bitterness, confusion, and compassion.

“Marianne.”

Christoph, who had somehow approached, called her name. Marianne didn’t know what expression to wear.

Christoph looked at her with deeply sunken eyes. He wanted to hug her shoulders. He wanted to take her in his arms and pat her back.

But he couldn’t. At this moment, Christoph painfully realized what he had lost.

He was no longer the man Marianne loved. He had no right to embrace her.

Damn it.

A silent curse scattered from Christoph’s teeth. He had no intention of giving away what he couldn’t have to someone else. Christoph clenched his fist, glaring into the void with cold eyes.

He must win her heart back. The heart that had left him.

(This is a time separator.)

“That guy, doesn’t he like you?”

At those words, Marianne’s eyes followed Christoph’s gaze. At the end was Maxim. Maxim Franke, looking somewhat angry.

Marianne frowned, as if to say that’s impossible. An unpleasant voice flowed from her mouth.

“Why would you think that? Didn’t you see Maxim getting frustrated because he couldn’t get me, Christoph?”

Marianne glanced at him, as if to say, as if she would do that. Christoph missed the timing to respond, savoring his name from her mouth.

He was not a dreamer, but that was a rather romantic moment. Only the name she called made him Christoph Schneider.

Not the heir of Count Schneider, not a successful lawyer, just Christoph Schneider. What was the name of this emotion? It was too vile to be possessiveness, and too sweet to be obsession.