As they reached the mansion gates, they spotted Cynthia waiting near the entrance.
"Ah, you're back," Cynthia said with a warm smile.
"Were you waiting for us?" Nolan asked, tilting his head.
"Not exactly," Cynthia replied. "I was just about to go inside when I saw you coming, so I thought—why not wait and head in together?"
Nolan raised a brow. "Wait… you mean you didn't go home straight after us?"
"That's right," Cynthia nodded.
Nolan's expression hardened. "Then that means… Lyra's the only one at home. Please, let's hurry inside!"
He bolted forward, Cynthia following quickly behind, with Linda and Celia exchanging confused glances before rushing in as well.
"What's going on?" Linda asked breathlessly.
"I don't know," Celia muttered, but her unease grew as they entered the dining area.
There, on the long wooden table, sat a massive cooking pot. Nolan strode over, lifted the lid—only to find it scraped clean. Not a single drop remained.
