In the days following the intrusion, Clara lived in a state of extreme vigilance. She was like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment. Every strange sound, every glance from a servant made her jump. Jonathan Goldsmith's terrifying calmness only amplified her unease. He took no public action, made no inquiries, issued no punishments. This could only mean one of two possibilities: either he genuinely didn't know she had been there, or he knew, and was playing a silent game.
Clara leaned towards the second possibility. Jonathan wasn't someone who easily overlooked anything within his domain. The incident that night was too serious for him to ignore, especially concerning a secret area like the East Wing. His silence, she suspected, was because he was observing her, waiting to see what she would do next, or simply enjoying her fear.
Alongside the fear, Clara remained focused on the clues she had obtained: the plastic card and the data she had glimpsed. She spent more time in the library, searching for books on molecular biology, genetics, and genetic engineering. She tried to decipher the complex terminology and baffling charts she had briefly seen on the computer screen.
This was no easy task. The specialized knowledge was deep, and she had to study furtively, without letting anyone discover her true interests. Despite the difficulty, she gradually came to understand that the data related to highly advanced research and manipulation of DNA and cellular structure. It wasn't about medical treatment, but about fundamentally changing biological essence.
One afternoon, as Clara was reading in the library, Butler Reid entered. She maintained her professional demeanor, but Clara noticed a servant followed her, carrying a tea tray and a small wooden box.
"Madam," Butler Reid said, "Mr. Jonathan Goldsmith has sent tea and a small gift."
Mr. Jonathan Goldsmiths? Sending her a gift? This was completely unexpected. Clara struggled to maintain her composure.
The servant placed the tea tray and the box on the table. Butler Reid motioned for the servant to withdraw. She stood there, watching Clara.
Clara opened the wooden box. Inside, lined with red silk, lay a single object. It was a black metal triangular key, with lines and symbols very similar to the icon on her plastic card. Beside the key was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
Clara picked up the key; the coldness of the metal transmitted to her hand. She unfolded the paper. There was only one line of handwriting, the strokes strong and familiar.
The price of curiosity can be very high.
But sometimes, that is the only way to open new doors.
Clara froze stiff. Her heart pounded like a drum. The triangular key. The symbol on the card. The East Wing area. And this note... He knew. He not only knew she had intruded, he knew she had found the card, and he was sending her a "gift," a message full of hidden meaning.
What game was he playing? Was this a warning? A challenge? "The price of curiosity can be very high." – Was this a direct threat? "But sometimes, that is the only way to open new doors" – was he hinting that the card (or perhaps this key?) could open deeper secrets? Why?
Clara looked up at Butler Reid. The butler still stood there, her face calm, revealing nothing. Her eyes rested on the triangular key in Clara's hand for a moment, then glanced away. It seemed she, too, knew about this gift, about its meaning, but maintained absolute silence.
"The tea is still hot, Madam," Butler Reid reminded quietly, as if nothing unusual had just occurred.
"Ah... thank you," Clara stammered. She placed the key back on the table, her hands trembling slightly.
Butler Reid bowed slightly. "I shall withdraw." She turned and walked away silently, making no sound.
Clara sat alone in the library, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, casting a golden hue on the ancient books. The triangular key lay on the table, cold and mysterious. Jonathan Goldsmith's handwriting seemed to stare at her.
He knew. He had seen through her. From the night of the intrusion in the East Wing area, to her curiosity about the Goldsmiths' secrets. He wasn't revealing his hand, not confronting her directly. He chose this way of playing – a psychological game where he held the advantage, displaying his power and insight through cryptic moves.
What was this key? Was it related to the card? Could it open another door, deeper into the Goldsmiths' secret network? Or was it merely mockery, a symbol showing he controlled everything, including her curiosity?
The feeling of being seen through, of being manipulated in someone else's game, left Clara feeling both afraid and angry. But the final line on the paper... "Sometimes, that is the only way to open new doors." Was he encouraging her to continue her curiosity?
Clara stared at the triangular key. She felt the pressure weighing on her shoulders. The system's mission was to kill Jonathan Goldsmith. But he was drawing her into his game. He seemed unafraid of her discovering him. On the contrary, he seemed to be actively leading her. Why? What did he want from her?
The tension had reached a new peak. It was no longer uncertainty. Now, it was a hidden confrontation, a silent game between her and Jonathan Goldsmith. He knew she was playing. And he was responding.
Clara clenched the triangular key in her hand. She didn't know what lay ahead, but she knew she couldn't back down. The price of curiosity might be very high, but the price of standing still, of being controlled without understanding anything, was much higher.