"Thank you…"
Only after Mother walked away did Isabella's body begin to tremble uncontrollably. The pressure she had endured since last night finally broke through the thin shell of composure she had forced herself to maintain.
But even that wasn't what hurt the most.
What truly shattered something inside her was Mother's flawless answer to her deliberate question. It had been too perfect. Too smooth.
In that moment, Isabella understood.
Mother did not love them.
Her smile was gentle, her voice warm... but there was nothing behind her eyes that resembled a mother looking at her own child. Instead, there was something colder. Measured...
Calculating.
It wasn't the gaze of someone watching a child grow. It was the gaze of someone assessing value.
As if they were numbers in a ledger. Products sorted by grade.
And Isabella could feel it. She and Eren likely fell into a higher category, valuable, promising.
Nina… had not.
The realization struck like a physical blow.
It was enough that Mother had sensed something unusual in her just now. That subtle touch behind her ear hadn't been affection, it had been inspection.
Suspicion.
Of course, from any rational standpoint, no one would believe ordinary children could orchestrate what happened last night. But Mother was intelligent. She might consider other possibilities... outside interference, secret collaboration.
If Eren hadn't interrupted at that exact moment, Isabella wasn't sure how much longer she could have maintained her calm expression.
Arthur stepped closer and lowered his voice. "It's not time yet. I'll explain everything to you when we have the chance."
His gaze was steady.
"For now, you just need to keep being the old Isabella."
"Leave everything else to me. Trust me, I won't let anyone in this orphanage be sacrificed."
Isabella nodded gently. "I will."
Arthur reached out and patted her head. Though it felt a little strange in his current childlike body, Isabella clearly enjoyed the gesture. She needed comfort, something to remind her that the future could still be bright. Only then would she find the strength to keep playing the role of the Isabella from the past.
The morning passed as usual, peaceful to the point of monotony. In an orphanage with almost no entertainment, life revolved around studying and cleaning; there was little else to fill the hours. By afternoon, everyone gathered outside again. Mother held a new brass pocket watch, her expression as meticulous and composed as ever. When Arthur noticed someone missing, he showed no surprise.
Liza was already moving swiftly through the forest toward the fence that stretched for thousands of meters. The pocket watch lay open in her hand, its display guiding her steps as she traced the perimeter in search of something. After several hundred paces, surprise flashed across her face, a cursor had appeared not far ahead. She hurried to the marked spot: an ancient tree so wide it would take three or four adults to encircle it. Though it wasn't autumn, the branches were nearly bare. It was dead.
Its gnarled roots twisted into a tangled mass, and only by looking closely could one spot the downward-facing hollow concealed within. Thanks to her small frame, Liza squeezed between roots as thick as thighs and reached the entrance. The inside of the trunk had been hollowed almost completely, large enough to resemble a crude one-room shelter. Yet there was nothing comforting about it.
She had been tricked.
The hollow was littered with small bones and animal remains, leftovers from whatever creatures had once nested there, along with rotten fruit and splintered wood. Even if Nina had been hidden here, the place was far from suitable. Beyond the fear it would inspire in a child, the jagged interior alone made restful sleep impossible.
"How is it? Not a bad place, right?"
A voice behind her sent a chill down her spine. For an instant, she thought of the monster from her dream the night before, then she recognized it.
"Eren!"
She twisted around, only to realize how awkward her situation looked. In her haste to crawl through the tangled roots and vines, she had practically burrowed inside. Now half her body was wedged between them. She could either push forward into the hollow or retreat the way she had come—but Eren stood right behind her, a reincarnator with an adult's mind in a child's body, and this clearing was utterly deserted.
Her imagination ran wild, but his voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.
"What's wrong? Can't get out?"
There was unmistakable amusement in his tone. He had expected this.
Annoyed and flustered, Liza stopped hesitating and forced herself backward, struggling free from the roots.
"Hey, there's even a teddy bear in there. Nice taste."
"That was embroidered by Mom without permission! And all the girls have one, okay?!"
"Hmph! Anyway, your so-called 'tools of the trade' are useless now, so who's afraid of whom?"
After finally crawling free, Liza straightened her rumpled clothes and shot a glare at the unhurried boy before her. "Why did you trick me?"
Arthur only spread his hands, looking perfectly innocent. "I never agreed to form an alliance with you." His tone remained light, almost lazy. "If we're not allies, then how much of the information exchanged, the so-called intelligence, is real? Shouldn't you be the one judging that?"
He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No way… there can't really be someone naïve enough to believe everything they hear in a dungeon like this, right?"
Liza, who had been burning with irritation at his sarcasm, suddenly stiffened. For a split second, panic flickered across her face.
Arthur didn't miss it.
"Besides," he continued casually, "even if I were foolish, I wouldn't spill everything to a traitor. Would I?"
The word landed like a stone dropped into still water.
The panic on Liza's face vanished almost instantly, replaced by a controlled, blank expression. "What exactly are you talking about?"
Arthur met her eyes, his gaze steady and meaningful.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked softly. "A… traitor… among the Reincarnators?"