The Rabbit Girl Who Shook the Walker Family Chapter 10

The Rabbit Girl Who Shook the Walker Family Chapter 10

John stepped in front of her at once. 

“Ethan, don’t make family business too ugly.” 

Ethan glanced at him. 

“Was Emma family too?” 

John choked. Lily hugged the stuffed rabbit and 

sat on the low stool. She did not quite understand 

the pauses between the adults. She only heard her mother’s name. 

She asked softly, “Was Mommy ever allowed inside the Walker family?” 

No one answered right away. Lucas looked at her. Lily looked up. 

“Mommy used to say she didn’t have a home.” 

“Did she come here before?”

Old Mr. Walker remembered it clearly. That day, Emma’s face had been bloodless. But she had stood straight. 

She had said, “I didn’t come for money.” 

No one had believed her. Old Mr. Walker closed his 

eyes. When he opened them again, he turned to the old butler. 

“Bring the visitor log from August three years ago.” 

The old butler looked down. 

“Sir, the paper visitor logs are in the old archive 

room.” 

“I will go now.” 

Old Mr. Walker said, “I will look myself.” 

Rachel spoke at once. 

“Dad, it’s so late. Your health…” 

Old Mr. Walker cut her off. 

“I’m not dead yet.” 

The hall went silent. 

When Lily heard the word “dead,” her face paled a 

little. 

She looked down and touched the rabbit’s ear. 

Lucas saw it. He walked over and crouched. 

“He wasn’t talking about your mother.” 

Lily nodded. 

“I know.” 

She paused, then whispered, “But Grandpa 

shouldn’t say that word.” 

“Lily doesn’t like it.” 

Old Mr. Walker’s steps stopped. He turned back to 

that tiny child. After a while, he lowered his voice. 

“All right.” 

“I won’t say it.” 

The old archive room was in the rear of the estate. 

It was rarely opened. When the door was pushed 

open, dust rose into the air. The old butler put on 

white gloves and carried out a stack of visitor 

logs. Old Mr. Walker sat at the old wooden table 

and turned them page by page. Lucas stood 

beside him. 

Ethan Walker took photos with his phone for 

evidence. Lily came too. She sat on a small stool by the door. The torn–bellied stuffed rabbit lay on 

her lap. The butler brought needle and thread. 

Lucas tried to take them. 

Lily hid the stuffed rabbit in her arms at once. She glanced at him, then at the needle. 

Very politely, she said, “Lucas, you should practice 

on another piece of cloth first.” 

Ethan lowered his eyes, and his shoulders moved slightly. Lucas said nothing. He picked up an old rag beside him. The needle went in, then came out 

crooked on the other side. Lily looked genuinely 

worried. 

“Lucas.” 

“Bunny is still little.” 

“You can’t practice on him.” 

Old Mr. Walker’s hand paused while turning the page. He did not lift his head, but the corner of his mouth pressed down. Lucas put down the needle 

and thread. 

“Let the butler sew it.” 

Lily relaxed. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” 

This time, she said it naturally. Lucas’s fingers 

paused. The old archive room was quiet. Only the 

sound of paper turning remained. Soon, the old 

butler pointed to one page. 

“Sir, here.” 

August 17. Emma. Entry time: 9:17 a.m. Exit time: 

11:58 p.m. The remarks column said: Received by 

Rachel Coleman, John Walker’s wife. Old Mr. 

Walker stared at those words. 

For a long while, he did not speak. Rachel stood at 

the door. Her face was even paler than before. 

“Dad, back then, you asked me to manage the accounts and off–book cash flow. I only received 

her according to the rules.” 

Ethan asked, “You received her until 11:58 p.m.?” 

Rachel bit her lip. 

“She was emotional and refused to leave.” 

Lucas Walker stared at the visitor log. 

“Why did she refuse to leave?” 

Rachel’s eyes turned red. 

“What else could it be?” 

“She wanted to see you.” 

“But you were overseas then. She couldn’t reach 

you, so she kept clinging to the estate.” 

When Lily heard “clinging,” her small brows 

wrinkled. 

“Mommy wouldn’t cling.” 

Rachel looked at her. 

“You hadn’t even been born yet.” 

“What do you know?” 

Lily hugged the stuffed rabbit tighter. 

“Mommy said not to stay too long in other 

people’s homes.” 

“Don’t leave food on the plate.” 

“Return umbrellas you borrow.” 

“She wouldn’t cling.” 

She spoke slowly. Every sentence seemed to have 

been carefully pulled from her little head. Old Mr. 

Walker looked at her. Those eyes were too clean. 

So clean that he remembered that three years ago, 

Emma had glanced at him the same way. That 

day, Emma had placed a prenatal report on the 

table. 

He had said, “The Walker family can’t listen to only 

your side.” 

Emma had not cried. 

She only placed her hand on her stomach and said 

softly, “Then investigate.” 

“Don’t only investigate me.”