Lily Bennett held her breath and looked closely. Written on it was—

"He is watching you from behind."

Instantly, her hair stood on end and she whipped around.

There was nothing behind her.

What the hell?

Who wrote this?

And who is the "he" mentioned above?

Lily Bennett recalled the little boy's words, and her heart gave a heavy thump.

Could it be... Eric Carter?

But how could that be possible?

While talking to the little boy, she quickly analyzed the situation before her.

She seemed to be in a circus.

Here, the manager played the role of judge, maintaining order and holding the power of life and death.

Mike Harris was a relative of the manager, and because he was worth as much as five thousand francs, the manager allowed him to bully Eric Carter, on the condition that Eric Carter was not to be crippled.

Eric Carter, on the other hand, was the circus's cash cow—skilled in magic, ventriloquism, and singing.

So, here's the question.

If Eric Carter was really as terrifying as described on the tent, how could Mike Harris and the manager dare to treat him that way?

Lily Bennett's mind was a mess. She turned and began searching the tent—this was a small tent, half a wagon, the other half made of waterproof oilcloth, crawling with mold spots.

A blanket was spread on the ground, its original color long lost. The sleeping bag was relatively clean, but it reeked of damp sweat, making her want to gag.

Lily Bennett searched for a long time but found nothing useful.

For example, whose body was this? Why was she disguised as a man, and why did she steal Mike Harris's gold pocket watch?

What exactly was the relationship between the original owner and Eric Carter?

She took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the sleeping bag.

There was an opening at the top of the sleeping bag, seemingly for someone to crawl in and sleep. The edge was embroidered with a name: Polly Clément.

Good, now she knew her name.

This was a good start.

Lily Bennett closed her eyes for a moment, then reached into the sleeping bag and felt a notebook.

She took it out and saw it was a thin booklet sewn with coarse hemp thread, the paper rough and yellowed, with visible raised fibers.

She opened to the first page.

September 3, 1888

I lost my diary. Maybe Mike Harris and the others threw it away, who knows? They can't read, and they hate people who can.

They also hate Eric Carter, but never dare to mess with Eric Carter.

I don't want to get beaten anymore. Why don't they beat Eric Carter?

September 8, 1888

Nanny hit me many times, so many times, saying my hands weren't fast enough. She told me to watch Eric Carter.

He didn't even touch that person, yet took the wallet. How is that possible?

Must be witchcraft, otherwise why does he always wear a mask?

He's the only one here who wears a mask.

September 9, 1888

I got beaten again. Why is it always me?

September 10, 1888

Beaten, beaten, beaten, I'm always getting beaten. I can't take it anymore. Why is it always me? Why, why, why.

Nanny is praising Eric Carter again. Mike Harris hates him, but rarely bullies him. I really hate him.

I hate Eric Carter.

September 20, 1888

Mike Harris's watch is missing. Only Eric Carter could have stolen it without anyone noticing. We want Eric Carter to hand over the gold pocket watch. Eric Carter didn't say a word.

I don't know if it was my imagination, but during dinner, he glanced at me.

What was he looking at? He's the best thief here.

October 5, 1888

Why does he keep looking at me?

October 8, 1888

Why? Why does it keep showing up on my bed even though I buried it? Why, why, why, why!

I'm going crazy.

He's still watching me, he's always watching me.

His eyes can glow.

He's a monster.

October 9, 1888

He wants to kill me.

He will definitely kill me, those are eyes that can kill.

What should I do?

I have to fight back, how do I fight back?

Mike Harris? The manager? Nanny?

No, no, none of them will work.

October 11, 1888

How long was he standing behind me, a minute? Two minutes? Half an hour?

Or has he always been there?

He's a lunatic, a lunatic, a lunatic!

October 12, 1888

I clearly threw it into the swamp, surrounded by crocodiles, so why did it end up back in my hands?

What exactly does he want? What exactly does he want? What exactly does he want?

......

This was the last page. The handwriting gradually became messy and heavy, the ink soaking through several sheets of paper.

Lily Bennett felt a chill run through her heart as she read.

The original owner's education was clearly not high; the wording and sentence structure were quite simple.

But it was precisely this simple and direct description that made her shiver uncontrollably, a chill running from her spine to her scalp, as if someone really was standing behind her.

Should she believe what was written?

Lily Bennett read the diary again.

The original owner and Eric Carter were both at the very bottom of the circus hierarchy.

The only difference was that Eric Carter was more talented than the original owner—he was a faster thief and knew more things than she did, relegating her to the lowest of the low. Nanny and Mike Harris both disliked her.

Over time, she grew to hate Eric Carter, even wishing Eric Carter would take her punishment for her.