The red paper scraps fell to the floor, glaringly conspicuous.
Gold-embossed lettering was on the scraps, and Butler Santana's heart skipped a beat.
He didn't need to look to guess what it was.
He picked up a few pieces.
Just as he had guessed, they were invitations, and specifically, they were Miss Yale's invitations.
Had Mr. Heath come to deliver invitations to Mr. Cheney? No wonder Mr. Cheney looked upset.
This...
Jasmine Yale, Yukon Carbon.
Who was Mr. Carbon? Butler Santana had never heard of him, perhaps he was a boyfriend Miss Yale met abroad.
Butler Santana squatted on the ground, suddenly stunned, his emotions swirling, his throat choked up.
Was Miss Yale getting engaged? No wonder Mr. Heath had asked all those bizarre questions.
"Cough cough..."
Coughing sounds came from the upstairs study.
Butler Santana's heart tightened, and he looked upstairs.
No one was in sight, but he saw infinite desolation.
