CWMBR 41

Chapter 41

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*Past

Bridget let out a scream like a deflated balloon and suddenly frowned.

Behind the tree, a translucent plastic sheet, seemingly discarded after use, swayed gently in the breeze. It was caught on a branch extending from a low pillar, resembling a long, slender shape. However, it was nothing more than an ordinary plastic sheet, too ordinary to be mistaken for a human shadow.

Realizing that Patrick was teasing her, Bridget protested with a flushed face.

"Anyone would be startled if they saw a human shadow in a place like this!"

"Who said anything?"

Patrick shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and Bridget glared at him angrily. Patrick ignored her glare and turned away.

“Why should you be afraid of ghosts or people in the first place? You’re not alone right now.”

He walked leisurely toward the door. Bridget quickly followed him and retorted sharply.

“Hmph, what if a real ghost does appear? How do you know you won’t run away before me?”

“There’s no way that would happen.”

Patrick snorted. Seeing his confident demeanor, she felt a genuine desire to scare him somehow, no matter what it took. However, Bridget quickly gave up. She knew that if she followed him and acted as if she had seen a ghost, she would only be met with ridicule.

She responded to his words with a resigned voice.

“Of course. You’re so amazing, you could probably pluck stars from the sky.”

“How can a person pluck stars?”

Seeing him speak so seriously about reality, Bridget's expression turned cold. For a moment, she wanted to slap herself for ever thinking that such a man would try to charm her.

Snap out of it, Bridget. From any angle, it seems like there’s no room for fantastical or romantic words in that man’s life. What made her so confident in making such a ridiculous assumption? It’s a good thing it was just her own speculation.

“Of course, I could cut off a person’s head.”

“You’re not joking about that, are you?”

Bridget shuddered and retorted. She really hated such things—ghosts, urban legends, heinous crimes, and all manner of cruel or brutal tales. She would rather be called childish than hear such things; she preferred fantastical fairy tales.

Patrick, who had been watching Bridget’s reaction with amusement, casually remarked,

“It means I have the ability to keep you from dying if something jumps out at you.”

His voice carried a faint hint of a smile—the kind of warm, gentle smile he had shown earlier, the kind that seemed out of character for him, with a small dimple hidden beneath his lips.

“So don’t worry and just guide me.”

Bridget stared at Patrick. He walked past her, speaking casually.

"That's enough. I think I've seen everything."

Bridget thought to herself, Why can’t he just say he’ll look out for me? What an odd way to express himself.

Bridget, who had been showing Patrick around various places in Glynford, one day decided she wanted to show him a special place. It was a place not mentioned in any tourist guidebook and one that locals didn’t pay much attention to.

If anything, it was a place that held meaning only for Bridget.

When she mentioned that there was a place she wanted to show him, Patrick nodded eagerly. The place she took him to was a private estate.

“A villa?”

From the entrance, the place was overgrown with weeds and dense ivy vines, clearly the appearance of an abandoned villa. Bridget opened the gate with familiarity. A rusty chain that had long since broken was carelessly hanging from the door handle, dragging along the ground.

“There used to be an elderly woman living here, but she passed away about ten years ago.”

As she opened the door, a path overgrown with uneven weeds came into view. At the end of the path stood the ruined mansion.

"I heard that the mansion and the surrounding area were inherited by her great-grandchild, but he has never come to take care of this place. Perhaps he has forgotten about it. As a result, the locks have rusted, and it has become a place where wild animals come and go."

The front yard, which should have been a beautiful garden, had become a thicket of grass that one might expect to see in the mountains. As Bridget and Patrick stepped inside, the dense foliage shook violently, and a rustling sound came from within. It seemed that a small animal had quickly fled to avoid being detected.

"But it's a shame to leave it like this. She took such good care of it when she was alive. She put all her energy into the flower garden. No other mansion in Glynford has a flower garden as beautiful as this one."

Bridget pointed to the bushes on either side and spoke. However, Patrick seemed unmoved, his face expressionless. Anyone would feel the same way upon seeing such a scene, just not Patrick.

Nevertheless, he walked silently alongside Bridget. Thanks to that, she found the courage to continue speaking.

"I met Mrs. Olden in this garden. It was a rare sunny day in Glynford, and she was selecting flowers to plant in the garden."

“Were you invited?”

“When I was young, I didn't understand the concept of private property, so I would enter other people's yards without permission. I was naive."

Bridget, who had been making excuses with an embarrassed expression, suddenly turned around. Somewhere along the path they had walked, there was a hole she used to crawl through.

"Especially when I climbed over fences or squeezed through hedges, I always felt like an adventurer."

"It's a good thing you didn't get dragged to the police station."

Patrick muttered indifferently, and Bridget couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s right. It’s a blessing. It’s lucky to have met an adult who was generous enough to overlook a child’s reckless curiosity.”

Now, the thought of carelessly entering someone else's house feels embarrassing and shameful, but at the time, Bridget was a girl who didn't know shame. To her eyes, the world looked like an illustration from a fairy tale.

For example, this very place. Mrs. Olden's garden seemed to her like the very garden described in the book she had read, "The Secret Garden." More precisely, it was the garden depicted in the illustration inserted in the happy ending scene. To young Bridget's eyes, Mrs. Olden, who tended the "Secret Garden" so beautifully, seemed like a person of extraordinary ability.

So, as soon as she met her, she showered her with chatty praise. It wasn't a particularly impressive vocabulary, just simple compliments like "beautiful" or "amazing," but it seemed to sound quite good to Mrs. Olden.

"I am still grateful for Mrs. Olden's kindness. She was an adult who protected a child's innocence, and when she found out that I was fascinated by this place, she gladly invited me to visit often."

Until Mrs. Olden fell ill, Bridget often visited this place. Mrs. Olden didn't bother to cover the hole in the wall that Bridget used to enter, so whenever she came here, she felt a sense of adventure. Moreover, it wasn't just the garden scenery that captivated Bridget.

Their steps slowed down and then came to a sudden halt. They were standing in front of the abandoned mansion.

Bridget loved that mansion. It looked like the kind of place where the Snow Queen might live. The sharp roof caught her eye, and she imagined the Snow Queen's ice palace.

This was an amazing place where two fairy tales had magically merged. It was inevitable that Bridget had been drawn here as if spellbound.

“There’s nothing here to be fascinated by.”

“As I mentioned, there’s no one managing it now… As far as I know, the belongings inside the mansion are still there. Only a few expensive items have been moved.”

It used to look so majestic, but now that she was an adult, it was just an old, dilapidated mansion. Feeling a bit bitter about it, Bridget remained silent for a moment before clearing her throat softly.

"So what I'm saying is, if you really want to spend money in Glynford, how about this place? In my opinion, the location is good, the mansion is in excellent condition, and the architectural style is also very elegant."

Of course, the sale would be decided according to the wishes of Mrs. Olden's great-grandchildren, but honestly, if the mansion was going to be left abandoned for ten years, wouldn't it be better to just sell it? Leaving a place that could be easily managed with just one employee was a sign that there was never any real affection for this place in the first place. Even the items inside the mansion had been left abandoned.

“Are you hoping someone will manage this place?”

“Since the owner has changed, we can’t expect to see the same scenery as before, but it’s better for someone to use this place than for it to remain abandoned.”

Even though she thought it was excessive sentimentality, every time she saw the entrance overgrown with ivy, Bridget felt deeply saddened, as if her childhood was being covered by overgrown weeds. But if someone starts using it, wouldn't they at least do some basic maintenance?

Patrick tilted his head slightly at Bridget’s suggestion.

"Well, the villa is already overflowing with space."