Abigail numbly stroked Orange’s body over and over, unable to believe that the cat who had been painting with her just yesterday was now dead.

The next morning, Sebastian hurried back to the villa. James and Warren picked him up. As soon as he entered, he headed straight for the living room. Seeing the little box holding Orange, his longtime companion, he staggered. James and Warren quickly supported him.

Abigail watched him, guilt welling up so strongly it almost consumed her. She wanted to help steady Sebastian too, but she was afraid.

Sebastian stared at the motionless Orange for a long time, unable to recover. It wasn’t that he couldn’t accept the death of a cat–after all, no matter how rich he was, it was impossible to make a cat live forever.

But he had always taken his cats for regular check-ups every six months. He reviewed every result carefully and remembered them all. Orange was gluttonous and a little overweight, but overall, it had been a very healthy cat.

“Seb,” James called, glancing at Abigail.

Abigail stepped forward and said softly, “Orange was fine all these years with you, and now it dies within a week of me being here. I have a suspect in mind, but I still want to apologize to you.”

“Seb, if you blame her for Orange’s death, isn’t that exactly what the real culprit wants?” Warren reminded him.

Sebastian responded darkly, “When did I say I blamed her?”

His eyes were red. He crouched down and reached out to stroke Orange. Then he turned to James and Warren and said, “Bury Orange in the back garden.”

James nodded. Sebastian didn’t linger. He immediately went upstairs to his room and shut the door.

Warren, afraid Abigail would take it to heart, explained, “Abby, Orange really did mean a lot to him. He just can’t accept it right now–don’t take it personally.”

“I understand.” Abigail had cried for a long time the night before over Orange’s death. She blamed herself, believing her arrival had brought misfortune to Orange. Otherwise, it could have lived longer with Sebastian.

While Warren and James were busy, Abigail went to knock on Sebastian’s door. Not long after, Sebastian–who had showered–opened it. His eyes were swollen and red. It was obvious how much Orange’s death had affected him.

“I started investigating yesterday, but I still haven’t found the culprit,” Abigail’s voice was filled with guilt.

Sebastian pulled her inside. Once the door was closed, he walked to the bed and sat down. Looking at her calmly, he asked, “Orange was the first kitten I rescued three years ago. Do you know why I started keeping cats?”

Abigail shook her head.

“Everyone just knows I’m Dorian’s grandson, the Robinson family’s most promising heir. But what they don’t know is that, when I was young, I was just like you,” Sebastian said, his voice eerily calm—yet beneath the calm lay something profoundly heavy.

Abigail stared at his eyes, shocked.

Sebastian sighed and continued, “After my mom died, I didn’t know where her body was for a long time. A month later, someone said they found her.

“I went to the riverside, but I didn’t get to see her. The police wouldn’t let me, because she had turned… terrible.

“So I never said goodbye to her. At first, I didn’t really understand that she was gone. Two months later, I dreamed about her, and then memories and longing came crashing down on me like a tide. That’s when the long pain began.

“I didn’t want to go home, because without her, the house felt cold. One day, a little girl, seemingly escaping someone who caught cats, ran into my and my mom’s house.

“She hid in the yard. That night, when I came home, she handed the cat over to me. It was an orange tabby.”

Abigail listened to his story.

He said, “That cat stayed with me for a long time. But when it went into heat, it slipped away while I wasn’t paying attention. I never saw it again.”

“I sank into guilt and pain again. Later, I grew up and found Orange. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but slowly, I started to think cats were really cute,” he continued.

He had never spoken this much before. Abigail couldn’t help but move closer, leaning down to hug him. She asked, “And then?”

“For a long time, it helped heal my separation anxiety,” Sebastian said softly.