"It's been almost three years. It should be rented out again. Maybe it has changed several tenants... I still remember that when I came to sort out the relics, I found a lot of notes recording mysticism..." Forsi walked under the sycamore tree with no leaves left, and slowly approached the house at No. 39.

Recalling her past experiences, she gradually had some inspiration for writing.

At this moment, she saw an old man in a heavy wool coat and a half-height black top hat standing at the door of the house at No. 39, and rang the doorbell three times.

After a few minutes, no one opened the door. The old man with a pair of blue eyes shook his head and turned around, whispering in doubt: "There is still no one..."

He suddenly found Forsi standing not far away, looking over here, hurriedly stepped forward, walked over, and smiled gently and eagerly: "Beautiful lady, do you live in this neighborhood? Do you know her?" Roberto and Anlisa?"

Anlisa? Isn't that the old lady's name? Has this home had no recent tenants? Fors thought about it and said: "I don't know if the Mrs. An Lisa I know is the one you are looking for. She lived here for a long time, but passed away three years ago."

"Passed away three years ago? Where's Roberto?" The old man with some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes hurriedly asked.

"Her husband passed away earlier than her." Forsi answered honestly.

The old man was stunned for a moment, and then showed a sad expression.

He was silent for a moment and said, "Thank you, kind lady.

"I'm Lao Boluo's elder brother, and I've been living in Jianhai County. Since I haven't received a letter from them for a long time, I decided to come and have a look.

"Can you tell me what happened to them in those years?"

Mrs. An Lisa's husband's brother... Could it be the descendant of the family she mentioned? Fors suddenly woke up, and responded with a smile: "No problem."

She quickly thought about what she could and couldn't say.

The old man pointed to the side and said, "There's a nice cafe over there."

����

In the east district, in a slightly old apartment, Klein stepped into the damp room again.

He saw the sturdy woman who quarreled with the street girl last time and disdained her career standing in the pile of clothes. Her wrinkled face had lost its spirit, lost its energy to work, and was lifeless.

And her eldest daughter, the seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl who was squatting in front of the basin last time, washing clothes, sat by the bed and kept sobbing: "It's me, it's all my fault, I didn't take good care of her...

"I shouldn't have taken her down a secluded alley.

"She also said she was going to learn a few more words at the free school tonight...

"It's me, it's all my fault..."

Liv, a laundry worker, suddenly came back to her senses, turned her head to look at her eldest daughter, put away her sad expression, and said viciously, "Why are you crying? Get up and do the laundry!"

"Do you want to go hungry? Do you want to go to free school?"

After yelling, she saw Klein and old Kohler standing by the door.

"Old Kohler... who is this?" She asked doubtfully.

The old Kohler seemed a little afraid of the other party's toughness, and unconsciously took a step back: "Liv, this is a Mr. Detective, he thinks, he wants to help you find Daisy."

Liv turned to Klein with a wrinkled and peeling face, and said indifferently, "We have already called the police."

She may only be in her thirties, but she looks closer to fifty.

Klein looked around the room where many wet clothes were hanging. He vaguely remembered that there was a thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl here the last time she came here. She was carefully holding a crude and rough homemade iron, dealing with the wrinkles after drying. clothes, and her hands were mostly scalded. JrNovels.com