Chapter 1
[To Mr. Thomas,
Hello. It’s Ellie.
Please don’t send a reply—because the snake can see it.
Ellie is doing well these days. The fact that I can even send a letter like this means I’ve been given a certain degree of freedom. But still, I cannot figure out the true nature of this old mansion……
So, Mr. Thomas.
Would you be able to secretly send sixty-six tomatoes here? Of course, I don’t expect you to push yourself. If it’s too much, please just ignore this request. (There are smudges where tears dropped on the letter and were wiped away.)
And if you ever receive a letter that says Ellie wants garlic, please ignore that one.
Because Ellie didn’t write it.
……Sometimes, I miss my family and you and my other friends so much that I shed tears, but I’m okay. Even if we can’t meet now, surely someday we will. Ellie truly believes that.
Ah, yes.
After reading, please be sure to burn the letter.
With everlasting respect,
Your beloved Ellie.]
“…Huh. From the young lady herself.”
Returning from his work, Mr. Thomas peered again through his magnifying spectacles at the first letter, then picked up the second one.
[Hello, Mr. Thomas.
It’s Ellie.
Ellie hasn’t been doing well lately. I feel sorry for sending you a letter like this. (The handwriting is blurred, as if written in a rush.)
Please don’t reply—because the snake can see it. I don’t want you to be put in danger too.
If it really is possible, could you send sixty-six cloves of garlic here? If Ellie has asked too much, you may ignore this. Please forgive me for ending this letter so hastily.
And if you ever receive a letter that says Ellie wants tomatoes, please ignore that one. I swear to you, that is not Ellie’s letter.
Always wishing for your health,
Your beloved Ellie.]
But reading the second letter changed nothing.
“Haa……”
The man whom Ellie had called Thomas held the letters, lost in thought.
Both letters had arrived as though synchronized—same date, same time.
But their content was contradictory.
The formats were different.
So then, who in the world had sent one of these letters?
He furrowed his brow, comparing the two for a long while. The handwriting… the spacing… even the quirks of speech—both were exactly the same. He was convinced that even an expert would find it nearly impossible to distinguish which was genuine.
Even when compared with letters Ellie had written in the mansion, the result was the same. Both perfectly matched her style, plunging Thomas into an even deeper dilemma.
The young lady’s usual tone resembled the first letter more, but…
“…What if, in a desperate moment, the young lady lost her composure and wrote the second one?”
Thomas could not dismiss even that sliver of possibility.
And so, tonight as always, he agonized late into the night.
[Hello, Mr. Thomas.
The letter……
I told you to burn it.]
