Chapter 822: Chapter 821
Editor: Henyee Translations

Jenkins was utterly defeated.

She ignored everyone and retreated straight to her tiny room at the Olsen estate.

Despite her cover as Lion being blown, she wasn’t treated any differently. Still, the accommodations didn’t match the comfort Erin enjoyed in Charles’s room—especially since Charles had voluntarily moved into the guestroom for her.

Jenkins sprawled on her bed, torn between crying and screaming.

So Clownfish had driven her away just to flex some control? As long as she left, everything was fine, and returning was perfectly okay?

For years, she had longed to see her friends in Country A but didn’t dare visit, fearing she’d endanger them. Now, after everything, it turned out she’d been overthinking it.

She clenched her fists in frustration. Clownfish was maddening! Infuriating!

Grabbing her pillow, she pummeled it as if it were Clownfish’s face. The occasional muffled yells from her room echoed faintly into the hall.

In the living room, Erin glanced at Keira, who was working on her laptop. “Should we, I don’t know, try to console her? She sounds pretty crushed.”

Keira didn’t even look up. “Why bother? Peter’s already standing outside her door.”

Erin raised a brow. “But he hasn’t gone in.”

“Well, duh. Anyone who tries right now is asking for trouble. Didn’t you see the murderous look in her eyes earlier?” Keira smirked.

Erin chuckled mischievously, though sympathy flickered across her face. She cracked open a bag of pistachios. “Honestly, if I were her, I’d lose it too. Clownfish hasn’t changed a bit since we were kids—always messing with people for fun.”

Keira paused her typing. “What does Clownfish even look like these days?”

“No idea. We were three years old! How’s anyone supposed to know how they’d turn out? People change a lot!”

Keira conceded the point, though her curiosity only deepened. She wanted as much information as possible about Clownfish. Her current position was a direct threat to Keira’s plans.

Reliable intel placed Clownfish in Clance.

“What about when you were kids?” Keira pressed. “Anything odd about her behavior?”

Erin shrugged. “We didn’t know each other’s families back then, but I remember Clownfish’s parents being kind of eccentric. Clownfish hated going home. And yeah, she was a weird kid—kept to herself, never joined in during nap time, playtime, or even group baths. She’d just sit alone. Oh, and she had a thing for bugs. Used to bring all kinds of creepy crawlies to school. Once, she put a rat in Keera’s backpack.”

Keira blinked. “A rat?”

“Yep. Keera nearly fainted. You know how soft she is—totally the type to freak out over stuff like that.”

Keira mulled over the tidbit. This wasn’t just a mischievous child; Clownfish’s behavior had always been unorthodox.

“And?” Keira prompted.

Erin shook her head. “That’s about all I remember. It’s not like my memory is flawless, especially for stuff from when I was three. Even with the South family’s knack for remembering things, no one’s perfect.”

Keira leaned back, deep in thought. It made sense. People tended to vividly recall their own painful experiences while easily forgetting others’. And at that age, details blurred into oblivion.

Still, Clownfish’s personality sounded insufferable.

“Do you think she’ll join me?” Keira asked, voice heavy with doubt.

“Not a chance.” Erin was firm. “Clownfish is too proud, too self-reliant. They’d never bow to anyone.”

Keira pressed her lips together, considering her next move. “How long until the South family opens its gates again?”

“Twenty days,” Erin replied.

Keira nodded, a spark of impatience igniting within her.

She didn’t care about becoming the South family’s heir, but rescuing her mother required her to dig deeper into the mystery surrounding the family. And, if she were honest, she couldn’t deny a growing curiosity.

What was the South family’s true nature?

Were the so-called prophecies legitimate?

Was this a case of bizarre mysticism, or something far more tangible? After all, ghosts and gods couldn’t possibly exist. Right?