•|chapter ten: the rose family descendants [present day]

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"There is nothing here!"

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"There is nothing here!"

Yvaine was shocked. Not a single letter, let alone a single line was there within the diary. It was empty as if it had never been used. Other than the name and date wrote upon the cover page it seemed that Paisley Rose had written nothing on it. It was as empty as a diary can be.

"Could this diary be a fake?" Amberly proclaimed, looking at the little black book with narrowed eyes. "Maybe someone made a copy out of the original one and gave the duplicate to you, Miss Agan." She hypothesized.

"There is no ambiguity regarding the originality of the diary," Oleander said with a hand upon his chin. "This diary is at least a century old. As to why there is nothing written inside is another mystery."

"It feels so strange," Yvaine slumped down on the chair, her shoulders stooping. "Paisley Rose bought a diary, wrote her name and the year on it only to not use it at all? And if we go by the historical records, she died that year itself, so maybe she did not get a chance to use it?" A dejected look marred her face.

"Indeed, that is a sound possibility." Oleander and Amberly nodded in agreement.

"But really, who dropped it on my doorstep?" Yvaine angrily slammed her fist upon the table. "It is just another dead end!"

"Do not get so upset, Miss Agan," Oleander consoled. "There are still the newspapers. And there is always something in the newspapers. Always." his eyes twinkled with knowledge and experience.

"Yeah, we can read through them," Amberly said. "But it's nearing ten at the moment and the visitors would start to fill in the library. Will it be wise to discuss such things in front of them?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Good thinking, Miss Wood!" Oleander patted her on the back. "We can always do it in private. Perhaps you two Young's ladies can bring it to my little rented apartment later in the evening? It is the yellow building adjacent to the town hospital."

"Well, we can do that." Yvaine huffed. "We will make photocopies of the relevant newspapers and bring them to your apartment since I don't think it's a good decision to take the original ones with us."

"Wonderful!" Oleander grinned, warmth dripping from his face. "When are we meeting, then?"

"Around 5 pm after the library closed," Amberly said enthusiastically, her eyes gleaming with the same warmth as that of Oleander. "Is it alright for you Miss Agan?"

"Yeah, sure," Yvaine answered. "And thanks a lot to you Mr Vescott for all the help and cooperation. I shall always be grateful to you for this." She too broke out into a smile. It was simply too hard to put on a grim face in such a jocund company.

***

The sweet smell of the burning frankincense and myrrh candle filled the little orange study room, giving it a pleasant scent. But the herbs despite their stress relieving and soothing properties failed to ease the lines of anxiety on the sole occupant of the room.

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