Clara Haughan noticed that around midday, when some of the staff took breaks or shifted shifts, the corridor leading to the East Wing seemed slightly less crowded for a few brief minutes. She decided to act. Her plan was simple and daring: capitalize on that quiet period, she would try using the card on the doors at the end of the corridor leading into the East Wing area. If the card worked, even if only opening a side door or a small room, it would be a significant step forward.
On a clear midday, Clara pretended she wanted to retrieve a rare book from the library (the library was located near that area). She moved slowly, her expression relaxed. As she approached the target corridor, she noticed, just as predicted, that the area was clearer than usual. Only one servant was sweeping quite far down the corridor, their back turned to her.
Heart pounding, Clara quietly approached the first door at the beginning of the corridor. It was a gray metal door, similar to the lab door she had glimpsed through a crack the other day, but seemingly smaller and less conspicuous. Next to the doorframe was a small card reader, emitting a faint green light.
Clara looked around quickly, ensuring no one was watching her directly. She took the card from her sleeve, her fingers trembling slightly. Taking a deep breath, she inserted the card into the reader slot.
A soft "Beep" sounded. The light turned green.
The card worked!
Without hesitation, she quickly slipped through the narrow opening, quietly closing the door behind her. She was inside a small room flooded with white light, filled with equipment racks and mysterious boxes. As expected, this was a storage or technical room.
She quickly went to the computer on the desk. The screen lit up. She entered the series of symbols from the card as a password. The screen flashed, displaying folders with strange numerical labels. Clara opened the most recent file in the [DATA-Archive].
Complex technical scientific data, charts, and terminology about genes, cells, and biological modification hit her eyes. Even without fully understanding, she sensed the abnormality and potential danger of this research.
She was trying to grasp more information when suddenly, footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. Steady, firm, carrying a familiar pressure. Jonathan Goldsmiths.
Clara's entire body froze. There was nowhere to hide. She could only press herself between the equipment racks, trying to merge into the shadows, holding her breath. The footsteps stopped right outside the room door. The sound of a card being inserted into the reader. The green light flashed. The metal door creaked open slightly.
Jonathan Goldsmith walked into the room.
He didn't turn on more lights. The light from the fluorescent lamp above shone down on his handsome but cold face. He was wearing home clothes, yet his posture still exuded terrifying authority. He walked directly to the desk, placed something down, and sat in front of the computer.
Clara held her breath, her body taut as a string. He was very close. If he just turned his head...
Jonathan Goldsmith sat in silence for a moment. The small room was submerged in suffocating stillness. Then he entered the password, opening the file she had just been looking at. He began reading the data, his expression highly focused.
This was her chance. His attention was on the screen.
Clara began to move. Little by little, bit by bit, she squeezed through the gap between the racks, heading towards the door. Every movement was slow, careful, trying not to make the slightest sound.
She reached the door. Very close. Her trembling hand fumbled for the doorknob. Grasping it, she slowly turned it gently.
Just as the door creaked open slightly, Jonathan Goldsmith suddenly stopped. He lifted his head from the computer screen.
His gaze, in that instant, swept across the room. Not looking directly towards Clara, hiding, but stopping in the corner where she was trying to escape. There was no clear recognition in his eyes, just a fleeting glance, an unconscious... or conscious?... scan.
Clara felt a jolt run down her spine. Survival instinct screamed in her head: Caught!
Without another thought, she used all her might to slip quickly through the narrow gap in the door, bursting out into the corridor. She ran. Ran wildly down the deserted corridor. The sound of her footsteps echoed behind her like urging drums. She didn't dare look back to see if Jonathan Goldsmith was chasing her; she just ran, ran, ran until her lungs felt like exploding.
Reaching her room, she slammed the door shut, locked it, and then collapsed onto the floor, panting. Her heart pounded wildly, her hands and feet trembling.
She had escaped. Escaped that lab room, escaped Jonathan Goldsmith's terrifying presence.
But... Did he see her? That fleeting glance was it him sensing an unusual presence, or just random?
His voice didn't call her name, there were no words, just that moment he stopped and looked up. That made Clara Haughan even more uneasy. Could he have seen her, but pretended not to? Or did he truly not see her, and she escaped by the skin of her teeth purely by luck?
Clara looked at the card in her hand, sweat making it slippery. She had obtained information. She had confirmed the Goldsmiths family was conducting secret research related to genes.
But the price paid was too high. She had almost been caught by her own assassination target. He was now likely more alert. The Goldsmiths' mansion had become more dangerous than ever.