Holden tried to push the door open, but it was firmly locked.
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Ariana breathed a sigh of relief.
Holden turned back to Ariana and inquired, “What room is this?”
“It’s just an old storage room. We probably can’t even find the key anymore, and there’s nothing worth seeing inside,” Ariana replied.
Holden nodded, then asked, “Didn’t Helen also live here before? Which room was hers?”
“This way.” Ariana quickly led Holden away from Marley’s room to Helen’s room.
Helen’s room was empty, pretty much cleared out except for a few lingering items of clothing.
Ariana went in and looked around, but again found no useful clues.
She sighed. Looking down at her dirty hands, she decided to wash them in the bathroom.
Just as she was about to turn on the faucet, something in the trash can caught her eye.
Hesitating, she crouched down to take a closer look.
Thankfully, there were just some paper and broken ceramics-nothing disgusting.
The trash also had a Layer of dust on the surface, suggesting it had been there for a while.
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Ariana emptied the trash can to get a better look at the paper.
As she rummaged through the pile, she discovered a sanatorium agreement, torn in half. Despite the dust and the faded ink, she could still make out that the document was related to Marianna.
The commotion drew Holden in. He found Ariana crouched on the floor, piecing together a torn document. He joined her, his brow furrowing as he saw the contents.
“A sanatorium agreement for… Marianna Holmes? Who’s that?” he asked.
“Helen’s mother,” Ariana replied, piecing together the torn agreement.
“I don’t know if she’s even alive. If Helen’s gone, who’ll pay for the sanatorium? Who’ll look after Marianna then?”
Holden glanced at the sanatorium’s name. “We can find out after we stop by,” he said calmly. “Let’s go. We’ve checked most of the rooms here. We can always come back in the future.”
Ariana nodded and rose to her feet. She and Holden left the Anderson mansion to go to the sanatorium.
The sanatorium was situated in a secluded location, and it took them quite a while to find it.
Rusted iron gates guarded the entrance, and the walls were shrouded in creeping vines. The trees in the courtyard displayed an unhealthy yellow cast.
Were it not for the occasional noises from within, the place could easily be mistaken for an abandoned house.
Ariana and Holden stepped inside the sanatorium. Along the path, they witnessed several patients running frantically while nurses chased after them, syringes in hand.
As they passed through the courtyard garden, they encountered an elderly man in a wheelchair, gliding by silently. Suddenly, he convulsed and proceeded to snatch a handful of mud from the ground, attempting to eat it. Ariana gasped, but fortunately, a nurse intervened just in time.
Inside the building, patients banged on locked ward windows, their shouts echoing through the halls, punctuated by the nurses’ reprimands.
This place resembled a chaotic mental asylum.
Ariana furrowed her brow. She hadn’t anticipated that Helen would place her mother in such a facility.
The scene was chaotic. Holding Ariana’s hand firmly, Holden drew her into his embrace and guided her toward a sign.
They followed it to an elevator, leading them to the administrative office.
“Excuse me, we’re here to inquire about a woman named Marianna Holmes, Ariana said to the staff member inside the office. The staff member glanced up, his gaze scrutinizing. “You are looking for Marianna? Who are you two?”
“We’re Marianna’s family. We’ve come to visit her,” Ariana replied.
A humorless scoff escaped the staff member’s lips. “Family? Can’t believe anyone would come to visit Marianna after all this time. This is a surprise.”
He flipped through a file, his voice flat. “Room 908. You can find it yourselves.”
However, another woman nearby interjected, “Hold on, you took leave recently, so you might not know that Marianna had been transferred to another facility a few days ago. The records haven’t been updated yet.”
Surprise flickered across Ariana’s face. “Transferred? Who did that?”
The woman shrugged. “Some young guy in a suit. Assistant-type, you know. Didn’t catch anything else.”
“Who did he represent?” Ariana asked.
The woman offered a sardonic smile. “Marianna’s daughter, of course. She’s Marianna’s only child. Though frankly, the woman’s a piece of work. Five years with no visit. If it wasn’t for that assistant, we’d have thought she was dead.”
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