Luca truly had no memories at all.
He had even forgotten basic knowledge about the outside world, so in the afternoons, I taught him the general concepts of high nobility, the imperial family, the current political situation on the continent, and so on.
My understanding was mostly based on the novel and what I’d heard or seen, so it might not have been perfectly accurate—but I still hoped it would help.
Technically, if you think about the heroine who was supposed to rescue him and restore his memories, there was no need for me to do any of this. Still, Luca needed at least a basic understanding of the world.
“This is the crest of the Greffin Empire I just told you about.”
I took out an old button that Serin had given me a long time ago and showed it to him.
Luca fiddled with the emblem on the button for a long time, then casually muttered that the red eyes of the lion looked ominous.
‘Says the guy whose eyes are red, too…?’
I replied casually.
“Black hair and red eyes are symbols of the imperial family. It’s definitely not ominous. Come to think of it, you have red eyes too, Luca.”
Luca looked straight at me.
Though a little dull in color, his eyes were clearly red as well.
If his hair had been black instead of brown, Miss Rayola might have handed him over to the imperial palace herself with both hands.
But even among commoners, there were occasionally people born with red eyes, so it was the black hair that was special, not the eye color.
I gently brushed back his soft brown hair and said,
“They look like a burning sunset. I think your eyes are beautiful.”
The words brought back the memory of the sunset we had watched through the window when he first arrived.
Luca smiled faintly and said,
“If Sister Lia says she likes them, then I’ll try to like them too.”
Aw, how sweet. He says the nicest things. Whenever Luca said something cute like that, I couldn’t help but pat his head. And whenever I did, Luca would close his eyes and smile like a happy puppy.
Luca had trouble sleeping at night. After realizing that he could only fall asleep if I held his hand, he started sleeping next to me, replacing Terry, who used to share my bed.
Originally, he had his own room, but eventually he moved into mine.
After that, we became the best of friends at the Troy Orphanage, close enough to share a bed.
Two years later.
Luca had grown taller—he now stood eye to eye with me. He looked more lively than when he first arrived and even helped take care of the younger kids at the orphanage.
Those memories kept circling in my head.
That night, as I watched Luca fall asleep while holding my hand again, I spent the whole night devising a foolproof escape plan.
Over the many years I’d spent here, I had seen and heard many things—but the one thing I learned the hard way was this: there was absolutely no way out of this orphanage.
That was made clear by the infamous “failed library escape attempt”—the same incident in the original story where Luca almost got hurt by Rayola, and Laveria ended up with a permanent limp.
Luca had found what seemed to be a hidden passage under the library floor and tried to escape that night—but it turned out to be just a storage cellar with no exit to the outside.
Rayola might have acted indifferent toward us, but when it came to keeping us under control, she was terrifyingly thorough.
In the past ten years, barely a handful of people had ever entered her room—and even then, they’d only seen a small part of what seemed like a maze.
Most likely, this building was connected in the order of: the outer world → Rayola’s house → the Troy Orphanage.
Unless what was beyond that door was another house entirely, there was no other explanation for why Rayola always stayed locked in her room.
Also, whenever she went out, she would lock the only exit door—on purpose, so we could see it being locked.
The windows near the ceiling were far too high to reach, and there were no ladders either.
Still… there was one person who did manage to escape.
I had heard the story from Sister Serin.
It was about a boy she saw with her own eyes when she was very young.
Seventeen years ago, a boy named Alex disappeared without a trace at the age of seven. Not even a sound, not a clue left behind.
Rayola made all the kids search every corner of the orphanage, but they couldn’t even find a speck of dust.
Serin was five years old back then, and she remembered Alex as someone who had been especially kind to her.
She said that one day, Alex had asked, “Do you want to run away together?”
She had shaken her head, too scared and too young to understand. She once told me, “If I’d known he’d really make it, I would have gone with him…”
I need to remember more. More.
Gripping my head, trying to recall any other detail, I suddenly heard the warm voice from my childhood.
“Lia, it’s okay to cry if you’re hurt. Just do it quietly, so the old hag won’t hear…”
“Huuhuhuu…”
“Quieter…!”
“Huu…”
That had been the first time I was punished by Rayola.
I was hiding in the storage room, receiving Serin’s gentle care, while she tried to comfort me with her jumbled words.
“Someone treated me like this once too. I wonder if Alex is doing well now. He used to always bug me to play hide-and-seek in the laundry room, even though it was hot and stuffy in there…”
“Ah—!”
Serin’s playful voice echoed in my mind as a memory hit me like lightning.
That’s right! The laundry room!
The structure was so poorly ventilated that it was always damp, and the walls needed repairing every year.
Even if kids had been patching it with wooden boards for over thirty years, how effective could it really be?
If I peeled off more of those boards, I might find rotted wood hidden underneath, weakened by the heat and moisture.
With that thought in mind, I carefully let go of Luca’s hand and slipped out of the storage room.
“Lia unni, is Luca oppa okay?”
The kids gathered around me, and I gently said, “Thankfully, he seems fine,” while pretending to organize the day’s chores.
All the while, my steps quietly moved toward the laundry room.
Luckily, today was laundry day. Laundry was done only once a week, and the laundry room was off-limits on other days.
The laundry room door…
Clack.
…it was locked for now.
Rayola usually gave the keys to the children on duty whenever she felt like it that day.
Fifteen years ago, when Alex used to play hide-and-seek there, the door likely wasn’t locked.
Rayola had probably started locking it after the escape incident—not entirely convinced, but suspicious enough.
Let’s see. Today’s helper was…
“Felix, hasn’t Miss Rayola given you the key to the laundry room yet?”
I called out to Felix, who was playing with building blocks.
He was today’s laundry helper.
“Nope, Lia noona! She hasn’t yet!”
So we’d have to wait a little longer.
But even if we waited, the key would be given in front of Rayola, and only Felix would be allowed to go in.
Then he’d come out with the laundry, and she’d lock the door again in front of everyone. What should I do?
As I mulled it over, I turned to look at Terry, who had been following me around.
“Terry, what’s that in your hand?”
I asked as I noticed a toy in his grip that kind of looked like a butterfly.
“I found it in the trash room a few days ago! It’s old junk, but it still works. It makes noise too!”
“Noise?”
Terry pressed the worn-out part sticking out from the lastic toy.
Then, miraculously, despite looking like it could fall apart any second, the toy made a loud beep beep beep sound—crackling but clear.
It was likely one of those self-defense alarms that parents gave to young kids.
“Terry, maybe…”
I bent down, picked Terry up, and whispered in his ear.
