HOUSE OF THREADS
1342 Words
So, how has it been since we had meeting?” Lord Morin asked.
“This meeting is about the monthly expenditures,” he added, turning to Lord Teren.
Lord Teren stood up giving a ledger showing the expenses and money accounted for;
Date
Description
Ref#
Debit out
Credit (in)
Balance
01/10/25
Opening balance
OB001
0
03/10/25
Tuition fees collected
T101
¥20,000,000
¥20,000,000
05/10/25
Stationery purchase
S202
¥500,000
¥19,500,000
07/10/25
Maintenance payment
M303
¥1,000,000
¥18,500,000
10/10/25
Guard payment
G404
¥500,000
¥18,000,000
12/10/25
Admin miscellaneous
A505
¥2,000,000
¥16,000,000
15/10/25
Salaries paid
S606
¥16,000,000
0
But the money Mr Cranfield gave me was just ¥5,000,000 saying there was a setback. Then the money from market is almost a billion.
“What about the churches and societies?” Lord Morin asked, raising a brow.
Lord Teren gulped. “They are yet to report.”
Lord Morin sighed, rubbing his temples. “That will be all for today. And remember — reports must be submitted before the next month, unless the county decides to send administrative officers against us. Dismissed.”“Hello, Lord Emmanuel — what did she say?” Lord Teren asked the person on the other line.
“Sir, she wasn’t the one. She stopped working before the issue began,” the voice replied.
Lord Teren sighed, frustrated. “Alright. But still… keep an eye on her.”
“What about the guards assigned to protect the room? How many are there?” Emmanuel asked.
“Two. Why are you asking? Don’t tell me you suspect them?” Lord Teren’s tone grew curious.
“Everybody close to that money is a suspect,” Emmanuel said firmly. “And for what it’s worth, they were the only ones near the vault after Mr. Cranfield.”
“You have a point,” Teren admitted. “But the guards were sent by your father, Lord Morin. Don’t you think it might look bad if we accused them?”
“My father’s guards are trustworthy,” Emmanuel fired back. “But we still need proof that leads to someone specific. Why did this only happen after the funds were counted and reported to the council? Could it be a cover-up to avoid meeting the financial requirements? Or a setup?”
“I’m not sure, Emmanuel. You’re thinking too far — like the detective you are,” Lord Teren said with a small smile. “You’re just like your father. Besides, no one else even knew about this meeting. Not the school authorities, not the council members. Only you, me, and Mr. Cranfield.”
There was a brief silence. Then Emmanuel sighed deeply. “Alright, you’re right. I’ll investigate quietly. And… I’ll leave Adele out of it for now. But maybe she can be used as a tool later — she’s been in that office long enough to know what goes on inside.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Lord Teren said. “Keep me informed.”
“I will,” Emmanuel replied. “I’ll call once I find a trace of the thieves.”
“Do that,” Lord Teren concluded, ending the call.“What do you think about the food?” Emilia asked, grinning nervously.
“Not good, Emilia,” Adele said, walking toward the kitchen. “Who cooked it?”
“My mum,” Emilia said, rolling her eyes. “You ungrateful girl.”
“Stop lying, Emily,” Adele shot back, peering into the pot. “Your mum can’t possibly create this bad of a recipe.”
“Alright, alright—geez, you’re mean. I was the one who cooked it, happy?” Emilia huffed. “Is it that bad?”
Adele stared at the disaster in the pot. “Bad is an understatement—it’s terrible. Gosh. Come, taste it yourself.”
Emilia giggled. “You’re exaggerating.”
Adele placed a spoon on her lips, made a face, and shook her head. “Nah, I’m good. Just throw it out. I’ll make something else.”
Emilia sank into the chair while Adele cleaned up. “So what have you been doing lately?”
“Nothing much,” Adele said. “Just school and coming home. How’s my brother?”
“He’s recovering. Mummy’s taking him to the country.”
“They’re letting her go?” Adele asked, surprised.
“No,” Emilia sighed, “but her brother’s coming. He’ll take them.”
“Are you going too?”
“Yeah. There aren’t many rules there.” She paused, frowning. “I wish you could come, Adele.”
“Me too.” Adele leaned back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I’m tired of this place. It holds too many bad memories… but I can’t leave. We’re not permitted to.”
“I’m sorry, Adele,” Emilia whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I could’ve said something that day, but I couldn’t…”
“Oh, my dear.” Adele hugged her gently. “It’s not your fault. If you had said anything, you’d have been punished. It’s all well.”
Emilia sniffed, then clapped her hands as if remembering something. “Oh!!before I forget.” She handed a small comm device to Adele.
“What’s this?” Adele asked.
“My mum said to give you this in case anything happens or you need help.”
“Thank you,” Adele said softly, hugging her again.
“This is the least we can do,” Emilia said. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah, the sooner the better. Do you want to see your brother before we go?”
Adele shook her head. “No. But give him this.”
She went to the drawer near the dining table and pulled out a little letter wrapped in brown leather like a tiny blanket. Handing it to Emilia, she said, “Please, tell him his sister loves him. No matter what happens, I’ll come back for him.”
Emilia’s voice trembled. “Okay. I’ll tell him.”
“Thank you, Emilia. If not for you and your mother, I wouldn’t know what to do about him,” Adele said, blinking away tears.
“Hold on a little longer, Adele,” Emilia whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’re here for you.”
Emmanuel went to school the next morning, his mind heavy with thoughts of how to catch the culprit behind the missing funds. As he passed through the courtyard, a few sheets of paper fluttered near the trash bin. He bent down to pick them up, intending to throw them away until he caught sight of a familiar name.
Mr. Cranfield.
Curious, he unfolded the papers and his eyes widened. It was a ledger, showing where the rest of the missing ¥15,000,000 had gone.
(insert the duplicate ledger here)
Before he could think further, a knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Emmanuel said, frowning.
A little girl peeked inside, clutching an envelope. “Sir… Mr. Cranfield told me to give you this.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
But before he could ask more, the girl had already scurried away. Emmanuel sighed and tore open the envelope—only to freeze again.
The letter wasn’t addressed to him. It was meant for the guards.
‘I’ll meet you at the boundary connecting Nyleshk and Pitarua. Come by 4:30 p.m.’
He exhaled sharply, voice low and dangerous. “So it was you… Mr. Cranfield.”
He crumpled the letter in his fist, gnashing his teeth, and ruffled his hair in frustration before throwing the papers across the table. Then, he grabbed the phone.
“Teren,” he said, his tone sharp. “We found something.”
“What?” Lord Teren’s voice crackled from the other end.
Emmanuel told him everything. There was a long pause then Lord Teren’s voice erupted, furious. “What?! How could he? What are we going to do?”
“I’ll handle it,” Emmanuel said, a dark smirk curling on his lips. “Personally.”
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- Writer
