Miss Charlotte’s Case Journal - Chapter 23

She tried pushing a few chairs together and lying down across them, but no matter how much she tossed and turned, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her body was so tired, yet somehow her mind refused to rest. Maybe the chairs were too hard, or maybe too narrow. Well, they were chairs, not a bed.

Wrapping a blanket tightly around herself, Charlotte staggered down the corridor of the morgue, half-asleep. She had to find somewhere she could lie down properly. Just an hour, no, even thirty minutes of sleep would do. In the end, she returned to the autopsy room, which she’d already cleaned earlier. This time, she didn’t turn on the lights.

A few hours later, Charlotte was jolted awake by the sound of someone shouting, followed by a crash and the clatter of something falling to the floor. What the hell, what’s going on?

“Ugh…!”

Maybe she’d moved too suddenly, or maybe because the blanket was still wrapped around her tightly, she couldn’t move her arms properly. Charlotte rolled right off the hard table and hit the floor with a loud thud. A dull pain spread through her body, and a small groan escaped her lips.

But before she could even complain, a scolding voice struck her like a whip.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Charlotte blinked blankly and looked up at the person standing over her. The director’s face was twisted in pure disbelief as she stared down at her. The bright light shining behind the director’s head made Charlotte squint and frown.

Ah… where am I?

Still lying on the floor, Charlotte turned her head slowly and looked around. There were a few senior staff members watching her with the same dumbfounded expressions, the autopsy tools lined neatly on the table, scalpels, forceps, and all, and finally, the autopsy table itself, which she realized she must have rolled off.

…The autopsy table?

Oh no. Don’t tell me I fell asleep here.

Charlotte sprang up, her heart pounding in embarrassment. Only then did she notice everyone else was dressed in their autopsy uniforms.

The director sighed and rubbed her temple as if she already had a headache. Then she gestured to the others. The staff hurried over, still looking bewildered, and ushered the dazed Charlotte out of the autopsy room.

Charlotte sat down outside the room and stared blankly as the door slammed shut in front of her. Through it, she could hear the muffled, irritated voice of the director. Just then, the door opened slightly, and someone stepped out. It was Eugene.

He handed Charlotte the blanket she’d left inside, then went right back in without a word. Charlotte stared at the blanket for a moment before burying her face in it.

I must be losing my mind.

A heavy sense of gloom settled over her. With dragging, weary steps, Charlotte made her way back to her office.

A few hours later, Charlotte was called to the director’s office. Standing before the large, imposing door, she couldn’t help letting out a sigh. Lately, it felt like she was constantly getting scolded. This wasn’t good. Just thinking about the director’s disappointed gaze made her want to cry.

She swallowed hard and knocked lightly. From inside came a firm, “Come in.” Charlotte opened the door, feeling like a criminal walking into a courtroom.

The director wasn’t sitting at her desk, but on the sofa meant for visitors. Charlotte froze by the door, unable to move, until the director sighed softly and motioned for her to come closer.

“Come here. Sit down.”

“…Yes.”

Charlotte sat awkwardly on the sofa, and the director immediately pushed a teacup toward her. Lifting the still-warm teapot, she spoke,

“Assam tea’s fine, right?”

“Yes, I’ll drink anything.”

“I’m well aware.”

The director filled Charlotte’s cup to the brim. Then she simply watched in silence as Charlotte cautiously took a sip. That steady, piercing gaze didn’t waver until Charlotte had emptied the entire cup.

When Charlotte set the empty teacup down on the table, the director pushed a plate of cookies toward her. As Charlotte hesitantly picked one up, the director refilled her cup and spoke,

“Has something been going on lately?”

Charlotte choked. The cookie caught in her throat, and she started coughing harshly. Her face flushed bright red as a clear tear clung to the corner of her eye. Gasping for air, she shook her head quickly.

“N-no, not at all?”

“…Look at you, Charlotte.”

The director’s tone softened slightly, almost like one would use when speaking to a stubborn child. Setting the teapot down, she clasped her hands together and rested her elbows on her knees, leaning forward slightly.

“Let’s be honest for a moment. You do realize your behavior’s been a little, hmm… unusual lately, don’t you?”

“….”

When Charlotte stayed silent, the director sighed quietly.

“I quite like you, you know. I’m not talking about your background or ability. There are plenty of people more skilled than you. But you have something they don’t. Passion, perhaps?”

“….”

“Take Eugene, for example. He treats this job as nothing more than a way to make a living. You, on the other hand, put your heart into it. Of course, maybe that’s because you’re a noble and don’t have to worry about living expenses. It’s natural for people to focus more on what they enjoy rather than what they must do to survive. I’m not criticizing you for that.”

“…I suppose so?”

“But our work is about uncovering the final truth behind someone’s death. So naturally, I can’t help but feel more affection toward employees who throw themselves into the job with genuine passion. In that sense, I truly like and value you.”

Charlotte’s face flushed bright red at the director’s sincere words. She’d been bracing herself for a scolding, yet to her surprise, she was being showered with praise instead. A mix of pride and embarrassment washed over her. Oh, I’m really not that great….

As the director quietly watched Charlotte fidgeting in her seat, unable to stay still, she finally spoke again.

“That’s why I can tell something’s changed. You’re working more than before, but it doesn’t feel like your heart’s in it anymore. You look mechanical, detached. You’re human, Charlotte, not one of those factory parts.”

“….”

Charlotte’s face, still flushed from embarrassment, slowly turned pale.

“Is the work too much for you? It doesn’t seem that way. If anything, it looks like you’ve been refusing the help your colleagues offer.”

“I just… I feel like I’m being a burden because of my fear of blood… and I wanted to work harder too….”

Charlotte trailed off awkwardly, knowing full well her words were nothing but excuses. She couldn’t bring herself to meet the director’s eyes, which were fixed on her intently.

She simply didn’t want to go through that pain again, the helplessness that came when she got too involved, when she gave her all, and things still fell apart.

“So you just didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone and wanted to work harder, right? No other reason?”

Though the director’s tone said, I know that’s a blatant lie, but I’ll let it go for now, Charlotte could only nod awkwardly.

“Then what about today? Why were you sleeping on the autopsy table?”

“That’s…!”

I can’t exactly say, ‘It was five in the morning when I finished my work, and it was too late to go home, so I just wanted to close my eyes for a bit, but while wandering around half-asleep looking for a comfortable spot, I somehow ended up falling asleep there.’ What I did last night, meaning the autopsy, was something Henry asked me to do privately, and it has to stay secret. Charlotte hesitated, fumbling for words, then shut her mouth.

“It’s just, I was a little tired yesterday. I’ve been working a lot lately….”

“So you were tired from overworking and decided to lie down there?”

“…Yes.”

Charlotte decided to brazen it out. It was true that she was tired and fell asleep there, wasn’t it? Then it wasn’t really a lie. The director quietly studied Charlotte, who nodded stiffly.

“If you’re that exhausted, how about taking a few days off? I’ll arrange something.”

“What? No, no, I’m fine!”

Charlotte barely managed to convince the director, who seemed ready to hand her a vacation on the spot, by clinging to her sleeve. Only after persistent persuasion was she finally allowed to return to her office. Otherwise, she might have been dragged out of the morgue and sent home immediately. The director was more than capable of doing that.

In the office, Eugene and a few senior staff members were buried in paperwork. Charlotte approached, hoping to share some of the workload, but was promptly rejected.

“The director said not to give you any work today.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit still. Honestly, you need the rest.”

Charlotte tried pleading with them again and even peeked toward the autopsy room, but no one let her join in. It seemed everyone had heard something. Left with no choice, she slumped in front of her desk, sulking.

If I’d known I’d end up doing nothing, I should’ve just taken the vacation when she offered. But if I don’t do anything at all, then I’ll really feel….

Regret welled up, and Charlotte collapsed weakly over her desk. Resting her left cheek against the cold surface, she blinked blankly. Normally, having nothing to do would be nice, but somehow it only made her feel depressed. It was like she’d become completely useless.

What should I do? After a moment of thought, Charlotte suddenly straightened up with a start. A spark of life flashed in her dull eyes as she pulled a small brown notebook from her pocket.