["Actually, there is something more important than that."]
More important than that?
It didn't feel like a mere hallucination; the way she spoke of her husband earlier sounded remarkably cold. It wasn't just my imagination.
Why? Did they have a falling out?
["Are you at home right now?"]
"I'm currently unemployed, so yes, I'm home. But why?"
["I apologize for the late notice, but I intended to drop by today. I'm afraid I didn't ask for your permission beforehand. I've grown far too accustomed to leaving such logistics to Rita."]
Bianca let out a soft, weary sigh through the receiver, and I could only manage a bitter smile in response.
It was true. That 'Perfect Maid' had a supernatural knack for anticipating needs and settling matters before they even arose. Spending time with her naturally led to a habit of delegating everything into her capable hands.
Simply put, Rita Rossweisse had the power to turn anyone into a pampered, useless mess.
The woman herself seemed to enjoy the role, so I couldn't exactly complain, but even I realized—much later—how much I had come to rely on her.
For Bianca, who traveled with her as an adjutant, she likely surrendered almost every aspect of her daily life to Rita, save for the missions she performed personally.
"By the way, what brings you over?"
["Ah... it's because my daughter is quite upset."]
"Lene?"
I hadn't noticed any sign of that when I answered the phone—ah, wait.
A memory flashed of the girl's reaction earlier when I asked about her father.
Though she had played it off with a cute 'Hmph!', the underlying emotion hadn't been mere childish pique. It was profound disappointment.
No, to be more precise, it felt closer to resentment.
"Did something happen?"
["...The truth is..."]
Bianca hesitated for a fleeting moment. When she spoke again, my eyes widened in disbelief.
["It's because her father didn't come to look after her, even though she was sick and bedridden with a fever."]
"...What?"
In that instant, every ounce of sympathy I had felt for the man vanished like mist.
If what she said was true, it meant the husband had completely neglected Selene during her illness.
I felt a surge of genuine absurdity, but I forced myself to remain calm.
Wait, I should think about this rationally.
To be fair, life happens. He's a working adult, after all.
It was tragic, but sometimes adult responsibilities force a parent to head to work even when their child is unwell.
Since I was currently unemployed, I spent most of my time with my daughter, allowing me to be there for every sniffle and scrape. But even Bronya, as busy as she was with work, sometimes couldn't be home during those critical moments.
"Was he tied up with a busy project at work?"
["...That was part of it, but he wouldn't come even when Lene called him saying she missed him."]
I couldn't hold back a heavy sigh.
No wonder Bianca was treating him like a persona non grata. Even if one's intellect can rationalize a situation, the heart struggles to forgive such neglect.
"Well, did he come straight home after finishing his work?"
["No. He went straight to another assignment."]
"...Without even stopping by the house?"
["...Yes. He told me to handle it on my own. Said there were plenty of good hospitals nearby."]
At this point, my ability to understand the man reached its breaking point.
Even with a grueling schedule, surely he could have negotiated a quick detour to check on his daughter's condition.
Yet, he hadn't.
Worse, the moment those words left his mouth, he had essentially disqualified himself as the head of a household. Even if he were truly, physically unable to make it, he should have never used that kind of tone.
["I'm feeling quite frustrated myself, and Lene's mood has plummeted, which is why we're heading over so suddenly. I'm sorry."]
"No, don't apologize. There's nothing to be sorry about. Just come over and rest your mind."