Aftermoon.
Hallways, Theodore Mansion.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
************
"Where is Helena?"
"Sir Conan!" Dorothy breathed out of shock, her cheeks blooming.
He raised an elegant brow in irritation before repeating the question as she just watched him as though he had asked to help remove her garter. "Where is Helena?" he gritted out.
She found her bearings and replied. "I think she left for her shop already"
"No, I was there just now, she is not there" Conan shook his head before he resumed his walk to look for Helena, he was scared she'd read the muckraker's papers and must be angry or misunderstanding him now.
With a furrowed brow and a sense of urgency gnawing at his heart, Conan walked the expansive halls of the mansion looking for his witch, each step echoed like a lament in the emptiness of the mansion.
