Junior entered the room, which was sparsely furnished with a small bed, a wooden chair, and a desk cluttered with scattered papers and worn books. Miss Yor sat by the window, her back to him, staring out into the darkening garden. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers tightly interlocked, her pale knuckles betraying the pressure she exerted.
"Miss Yor," Junior said gently, closing the door behind him.
She turned slowly, her tear-streaked face reflecting exhaustion and fear. "Your Highness," she said, her voice trembling. "You're here…"
"I came as soon as I heard," he said, his tone soft but firm. "Emma told me what happened. I'm sorry for what you're going through, but I need to ask some questions. Anything you've noticed could help, even the smallest detail."
Miss Yor nodded, her hands shaking slightly as she gestured for him to sit. "This isn't the first time, Your Highness," she whispered. "Anya is the one of the children that had vanish from the orphanage ".
