The Disappearing Rose

Chapter 2

"Is that so?" Roger neither agreed nor disagreed. Then he twisted his neck and said, "Let's go and meet her." With that, he led the way into the interrogation room through the side door, with the female officer following closely behind. Hearing the sound of the door, Lucie's wooden gaze turned towards them. "Lucie, let's talk," Roger sat down opposite Lucie. Lucie's eyes were cold, and she did not respond. Faced with Lucie's indifference, Roger remained unfazed, his expression calm. "Natalia is right next door. She's pushing all the blame onto you."

"Are you trying to trick me?" Lucie's stiff face trembled slightly. "I don't need to trick you. You know her better than I do, don't you? Isn't she best at pretending to be pitiful and shirking responsibility?" Roger leaned forward. "What do you really want from me?" Lucie's blue eyes showed a hint of doubt. "As I said, Lucie, I just want to talk with you."

"Is this how you have a chat?" Lucie raised her hands, a pair of silver handcuffs prominently visible on her delicate wrists. "Take them off for her," Roger instructed the female officer. The officer complied, stepping forward to unlock the handcuffs with a key. "Got a cigarette?" Lucie rubbed her wrists and made a new request.

"Give her a cigarette!" Roger, feeling the emptiness of his own pockets, instructed the female officer again. A lady's cigarette appeared in Lucie's hand. Roger lit it with a lighter. Lucie put the cigarette to her lips, took a deep drag, and then slowly exhaled a smoke ring: "Not bad, the filter is mint-flavored." Lucie's face was full of contentment, clearly very satisfied.

"Now, can we talk?"

"Of course, what do you want to know?" Lucie squinted her eyes as she looked at Roger.

"I want to know everything about you and Natalia!"

"Everything?" Lucie lowered her head. After a moment of silence, she looked up: "Let me tell you a story first."

"I'm all ears!" Roger nodded gently.

Lucie slightly shifted her body, finding a slightly more comfortable position, and then began to speak slowly, her voice filled with undeniable sorrow: There was a girl named Lucie Allen Rumsford. Her family originated from the ancient land in northern Italy, the homeland of the Lombards. Before she was ten, her world was filled with love and warmth; her parents were shining stars in the design world, and their love was as enviable as their creations.