"You said that you would help me fake my kidnapping or death, no?" Datura asked.
"Um . . . yeah. But I don't want to draw anything. Can't you just leave some evidence of a struggle or something like that?" Maehwa responded, "And can't you draw it yourself, Miss Socialite?" Maehwa hoped that by pointing this out, she would see at least some emotion in Datura's face.
"True, but don't you want to know why Pierre is dead?" Datura asked. No emotion showed, unfortunately.
"Huh? You said that you would tell me how he died though," Maehwa said in genuine confusion, "And I think it's pretty clear that you have an ulterior motive. Spill it."
Datura scoffed and put her face into her palm. "Must I explain to you the difference between the words how and why?!"
Maehwa felt a bit relieved. As it turns out, Datura was capable of expressing emotions! And Maehwa could force these emotions to come out. But first, she had to know why Datura was making her draw (which was something she was not very good at). So she asked Datura.
The evil woman chuckled a little. "I thought that you were smart, Maehwa. I thought you knew. I mean, you are the one that proposed this notion, after all."
"What is it?"
"You are going to help me fake my death, Maehwa."
Maehwa felt embarrassed and dumb (which she sort of was). "Oh. But what's the other reason behind making me draw?"
Datura laughed a little louder this time. "You burglars have a knack for finding things." Her tone suddenly sharpened. "Such as a larger pair of sewing scissors."
Maehwa's embarrassment drained away, and was replaced by adrenaline. Datura was clearly forcing her into a corner, and she had to act fast if she wanted to retain any semblance of control. "Oh? So you're trying to keep me distracted? Is it because you're afraid of what I might do with these scissors?" Maehwa started walking towards Datura, flashing the handle of the scissors. "Are you afraid . . . of me?"
Datura stared right back at Maehwa with her cold, yellow eyes. "I do not find you threatening. I know that you would never kill me, even if it is your only chance at leaving Sayuna earlier. You clearly have no stomach for killing."
"Doesn't mean that I won't hit you," Maehwa said through gritted teeth.
"Maehwa, if you dare harm me," Datura whispered, hardening her expression, "you'll not only be in jail for trespassing and Pierre's murder, but for assaulting me, too. And judging from the way you are presenting yourself, it seems that you do not want to spend time in jail. So keep to yourself and do as I say."
Maehwa glared back. "People usually use threats to silence the truth. But in doing so, they prove themselves to be the wrong one. Are you doing the same, Datura?"
Datura suddenly jerked away. Maehwa had won. And Datura knew it.
"Ah, so you are afraid of me," Maehwa said, smirking.
Datura furrowed her eyebrows before attempting to change the subject. "Are you going to draw me or not?"
"Sure, Miss Socialite. How about tomorrow? It's getting really late," Maehwa responded, still smiling.
Datura nodded, and started to walk away. "We start at 10 in the morning."
Maehwa started to make her way down Datura Painting Hallway, hoping that it lead to her room. She would have gone through the sitting room and Pierre Painting Hallway, but she didn't want to follow Datura. Then, she remembered that she still wanted some fresh air. Finding the nearest window, she opened it, causing a rush of cold night air to breeze in. Maehwa looked down, seeing nothing but darkness . . . and a silhouette tall enough to be Datura.
"Hm," Maehwa said, before realization hit her. There was no way that it was Datura. Her footsteps could still be heard down the hall. And the figure in the dark wasn't thin enough to be Datura either.