Lucien didn't rush.
He leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the table as he reread the file in his hands. At first glance, everything about the black nun seemed ordinary—painfully ordinary, in fact. A quiet life, clean record, devoted to faith. Nothing that would raise suspicion.
But Lucien wasn't someone who trusted appearances.
His gaze lingered on two particular entries, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Tell me about this inheritance," he said calmly, tapping the line with his finger.
The detective leaned over, glancing at it before shrugging. "Ah, that. It's not really a secret. Before moving here, she lived in New Orleans. Took care of an elderly couple—no children, no relatives. When they passed away, they left everything to her."
Lucien didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he let the information settle in his mind, slowly piecing things together. From that moment onward, her life had changed dramatically. Her academic performance improved, she acquired multiple qualifications, and within a short time, she had firmly established herself in a completely new city.
Too smooth.
Far too smooth.
People didn't just change like that overnight.
Unless… something pushed them.
Lucien's fingers paused.
"And after all that," he continued softly, "she chose to run an orphanage?"
The detective blinked. "Well… yeah. That's what the records show."
Lucien let out a quiet breath, his gaze drifting back to the document.
With her capabilities, she could have easily climbed higher—joined a cathedral, taken a more influential position. Yet she stayed hidden, managing something as insignificant as an orphanage.
It didn't fit.
Not unless the orphanage itself was the purpose.
Then there was the marriage.
Lucien's eyes sharpened slightly.
A nun… getting married?
That alone was enough to raise questions. Taking final vows meant a lifelong commitment. Breaking that wasn't just uncommon—it was almost unheard of.
And yet, she didn't just marry.
She married a lawyer.
Lucien suddenly looked up.
"The lawyer who handled Lina's case," he asked, voice steady, "do you remember his name?"
The detective frowned, thinking for a moment. "Luke… something. Can't recall the full name."
"Luke Sarsgaard."
The words left Lucien's mouth without hesitation.
The detective froze for a second before slapping his forehead. "Yeah! That's it. That's the name. How did you—"
Lucien didn't answer.
He simply turned the document around and slid it across the table.
The detective leaned forward, scanning the page—and then his expression changed.
There it was.
Clear as day.
Husband's name: Luke Sarsgaard.
For a brief moment, silence filled the room.
"…That can't just be coincidence," the detective muttered.
Lucien shook his head slowly. "It isn't."
Everything connected too neatly. The lawyer who defended Lina. The nun who later introduced her into a new family. The orphanage acting as a bridge between identities.
This wasn't random.
It was coordinated.
"They know exactly who she is," Lucien said quietly.
The detective's expression turned serious. "But the nun wasn't directly involved in the case—"
"That doesn't matter," Lucien cut in calmly. "A case like that? Rare condition, brutal murders, arson… You really think a man wouldn't talk about it with his wife?"
The detective fell silent.
Of course he would.
Anyone would.
Lucien leaned back, his tone calm but firm. "Which means she knew. From the very beginning."
And if she knew…
Then sending Lina into that family wasn't kindness.
It was intention.
The realization settled heavily between them.
After a moment, the detective straightened. "So what now?"
Lucien closed the file and placed it on the table.
"Keep investigating," he said. "But shift your focus. That couple is the key."
The detective nodded immediately. "Got it."
Without another word, Lucien reached to the side and picked up three talismans from the table. The faint scent of ink and incense still lingered on them.
He placed them down in front of the detective.
"These are for you."
The detective leaned in, eyes lighting up with curiosity. "These are the talismans you mentioned?"
Lucien nodded. "One calms the mind. Helps with sleep. The other two… are for protection."
"Protection?" the detective repeated, lowering his voice instinctively. "Against… that kind of thing?"
"Yes."
Lucien's answer was simple, but absolute.
"One talisman can save your life once."
The detective's hand, which had been reaching forward, froze mid-air. He quickly pulled it back, wiped his palm on his coat, and only then carefully picked them up—as if afraid they might break just from improper handling.
His expression was a mix of disbelief and excitement.
"I'll charge you for the first one," Lucien added casually. "The other two are free."
"…Free?" the detective blinked.
Lucien shrugged lightly. "Consider it hazard pay."
For a moment, the man just stared at the talismans in his hand like they were priceless treasures.
Two extra lives.
That's what it meant.
"Don't get reckless," Lucien said, his tone turning slightly colder. "If something feels wrong, leave immediately."
The detective nodded rapidly. "Yeah… yeah, I understand."
Though judging by his expression, he was already thinking about the next case.
Lucien sighed inwardly.
"Su— I mean, Lucien," the detective said suddenly, grinning a little, "if there's more work like this in the future… call me first?"
Lucien looked at him for a second.
"Get out."
The answer came without hesitation.
The detective laughed awkwardly, quickly gathering his things before leaving.
Once the door closed, silence returned to the shop.
Lucien sat there for a moment before pulling out a blank sheet of paper. His pen moved slowly, writing down key fragments.
New Orleans.
Inheritance.
Nun.
Lawyer.
Lina.
Orphanage.
Each word connected to the next, forming a pattern that was becoming harder to ignore.
His pen stopped.
Lucien stared at the page, then let out a slow breath.
"…So that's how it is."
The truth was already beginning to take shape.
And whatever this was—
It was far more complicated than a single psychopath playing house.