Pamela stands in front of the gates of the Rodriguez estate.

She raised her hand to ring the doorbell with a slight hesitation, because every time she had visited before, she hadn't even gotten out of the car, and the young butler was already standing at the door smiling and waiting for her.

This was very unusual, Pamela thought, Professor Schiller seemed to know the whereabouts of everyone who would visit his estate, and it was no secret when they would appear at his door, so that every guest who arrived would be greeted at the right time.

But this time no one came to greet Pamela.

Pamela knew she had no position to blame anyone for the faux pas, for it was true that she had come out of nowhere without even making a phone call, but she thought that the blame for such rudeness should not be entirely attributable to herself, since Bruce had asked her to come.

The tycoon has good reasons for this, with Bruce claiming that if Pamela doesn't come, there's a good chance they'll see Miss Talia at the table tomorrow, which Pamela takes as a ghost joke.

After learning the whole story of Bruce's entanglement with Talia, Pamela thinks that Bruce may have thought that the angry Talia would further lower his score by finding Schiller, and that Bruce had invested in Pamela's security plant research project, and she knew that she was short-handed, so she threw the troublesome job of going to him in Schiller's anger.

I'm really confused, so I will give him the phone number, Pamela complained in her heart, I'm afraid there will be more troublesome work like this in the future.

But she knew that she had to solve the problem in front of her first, and she didn't want Talia to be dismantled, because she was beautiful, and Pamela really hadn't tried.

Thinking of this, she licked her lips and craned her neck to look inside the manor, but she didn't hear a single movement.

Picking locks is a bit too much, and Pamela isn't good at that, so she plans to use her strengths to find her way into the Rodriguez estate.

What else could be the strength of the spokesperson for the green of all things?

Pamela walked around to the back of the Rodriguez estate, and in the corner of the garden there was a banyan tree planted by the previous owner, which was not tall and inconspicuous, but because it was close to the fence, Pamela thought about transplanting the tree when she drew the plan of the garden of the Rodriguez estate, so as to prevent people from climbing in along the branches.

Pamela stood outside the wall and beckoned, and a branch stretched down the top of the wall, and more vines wound up, and soon weaved a staircase.

Pamela stepped on the vine stairs into the courtyard with great ease, surveyed the ruined garden, and moved forward the estimated date of construction.

She had sent Schiller the rough blueprints the previous evening, and had quickly received a reply from him, who, as usual, had made a few rather practical suggestions, and Pamela had spent the whole day thinking about how to improve.

As for why she did it, the answer was unexpected, Pamela planned to continue her education in school, but she also needed money.

Pamela plans to do something she likes, it's good to design gardens for the estate, she is very talented in this area, she has a special ability to make the job easier, and at the same time, she makes a lot of money by dealing with the rich, which is a pretty good part-time option.

And the problem she faced was that the premise of designing a garden for the manor was that the owner of the manor had to use the garden for her to practice, and the only owner of the manor in Gotham who could not care about the destruction of his garden several times was probably only Schiller.

Pamela was grateful for this, and she cherished the opportunity, so as she walked through the gardens of the Rodriguez estate again, she observed the structure very carefully, and analyzed Schiller's suggestions as closely as she could.

Before she knew it, she had reached the back door of the main building of the manor, and Pamela stepped up the steps of the porch, reaching out to knock on the door, but at that moment, she was stunned for a moment, for she realized that she had just passed something.

Pamela turned her head and stepped between the steps to look at her side, beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows of the main building.

It was also muddy, I don't know if it had been washed by heavy rain or gardening hoses, and the few tiny plants had fallen to the ground, completely unrelievable, but what caught Pamela's attention was a bright white mixed in with the dirt.

Pamela lifted the hem of her skirt and carefully stepped on the edge of the building to the bottom of the floor-to-ceiling window, and when she bent down to take a closer look, she saw that it was a few white petals gathered together.

Pamela frowned slightly, and she turned to look up diagonally above herself, the only window on the floor-to-ceiling windowpane, at the apex of the parabola where the petals landed.

It is a camellia that has been thrown out of the window.

Pamela looked into the floor-to-ceiling window panes covered in a thin mist, and the room was empty, so she had a panoramic view of the room, which Pamela had never entered before, but her eyes immediately caught the camellia in a thin vase on the desk at the other end of the room.

Through the glass, Pamela's searching gaze began to become more purposeful, and then, as she expected, another vase was placed on the coffee table between the single couches near the window, but the flowers inside were gone.

The only two vases in the room are artistic vases, which can be used as flower arrangements or ornaments, and this one on the coffee table is even smaller, and it is not inconsistent to see it as a separate coffee table decoration.

Pamela turned back, and under her gaze, tiny vines helped her turn over the dirt, revealing the stem beneath the petals, which, judging by its length, should have been inserted in a dwarf vase on the coffee table.

Schiller is not a man who likes flowers.

Pamela had known this for a long time, and it was almost unbelievable that she had found that there were no decorative flowers in the vast estate when she visited the Rodriguez estate before.

Pamela knew that Schiller was a man of style, and that the interior would lack a lot of color and life without flowers, but there were no living flowers anywhere in the interior of the Rodriguez Manor.

And Pamela learned the reason for this anomaly in the email that Schiller replied to last night, Schiller didn't like flowers, he just didn't like the fragrance of flowers.

Because Schiller, in his advice to Pamela for garden decoration, emphasized that he should try not to use floral flowers, and Schiller thought that some uncontrolled aromas would affect his thinking, and Pamela changed the range of flowers he chose according to his advice.

Pamela, who had just been thinking about Schiller's suggestion in his reply to the email, immediately thought of this, and she looked down at the camellia in the dirt and noticed that something was wrong.

There are many varieties of camellias, and the fragrance is also different, some are almost unscented, and some are strong, and this one is only thrown into the soil, which is obviously the one with a strong fragrance.

Did Schiller throw it out of the window because of the scent of camellias? Pamela thought for a moment and quickly dismissed this speculation, Merkel apparently knew Schiller better than she did, and if Schiller did not like scented flowers, then such flowers would never appear in vases on the estate.

Moreover, Schiller has never been in the habit of using decorative flowers before, and vases are also used as ornaments, why did he suddenly insert flowers into the two vases today, and they are still the kind of flowers with fragrance?

Pamela could not think of an answer to this question, and as she continued to look at the remains of camellia flowers in the dirt, she noticed several inconspicuous footprints around her, not by Schiller, but by a stranger.

The footprints appeared so abruptly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, and there was no way at all, there was only one possibility in this situation, that is, the other party fell from the sky, and Pamela could only look up.

She saw a pair of gray eyes that were slightly sloppy.

Schiller was standing on the balcony of his room on the second floor, leaning on the railing with one hand and looking down condescendingly.

In an instant, Pamela felt the coldness piercing through her bones.

But Schiller just looked at it like that, then sighed softly, turned and walked back into the room.

When Pamela came back to her senses, she realized that she might have seen a hint of helplessness in Schiller's gaze, she didn't understand what it meant, but she had a flash of inspiration to read some kind of connivance on Schiller.

So, a thin vine climbed up the vertical decorative line on the surface of the manor, and Pamela leaned against the plants to listen to the movement on the second floor, and in addition to Schiller's voice, she heard the voice of another slightly familiar woman.

“…… I'm much better, thanks. ”

It was Talia's voice.

Pamela's brow furrowed even tighter, she hadn't forgotten what she had been asked to do, and the vines climbed more boldly to the railing of the balcony, and sure enough, she saw a gap left by the unclosed balcony door.

The tips of the tiny vines duly drilled into the gap, and the scene in front of them suddenly became clear, this was a study, and it was the private study of the owner of the manor.

The reason for judging that this is a private space is that there are no pairs of furniture in the usual reception area, there is only one single sofa, and the table in front of it is too small to put a set of tea sets, and there are a few books scattered on the table, which is not very tidy like a classroom.

"Is this your study?" Talia asked, looking up at Schiller, who had brought her a cup of hot tea.

"Yes, miss, I think you may have had some symptoms of a panic attack just now, and a relatively confined private space will make your mood better."

"I do feel better." Talia looked away, then looked at Schiller again, as if to get to know him again.

Talia suspected that she had delusion, no flamboyant feathers, no cold vertical pupils, and no venom-dripping fangs, the Schiller professor in front of him was a little different, but not so terrifying.

Suddenly, Talia's hand clenched the handle of the cup, and she gritted her teeth and spat out a name: "Bruce Wayne!" ”

Schiller's fiddling with the tea set stopped, he looked at Thalia as if he was a little curious, and asked, "What did you say?" Miss. ”

Talia whispered as she recalled, "When did he drug me?" What kind of drugs are used? ”

"I'm sorry, Miss Talia."

"No, nothing, I'm thinking about something else." Talia took a sip of hot tea, and the anger in her heart did not diminish in the slightest, it must have been Bruce Wayne who drugged her, and that misty hallucination often appeared when she was doing anti-drug training.

But what kind of drug is that, which can stun her for a moment, and after she wakes up, she will also hallucinate Schiller...... That should be an illusion, right?

Talia was in a trance, and she looked up and swept Schiller's face with a gaze that could be called rude, and then fell on his dress.

Nowhere would it evoke a terrifying fantasy, so it was just a hallucination that the drug's properties had not yet waned.

At this time, Schiller put down the tea set and took a step back, looked at Talia with some concern, and said, "I may never have said that I am a licensed psychiatrist, and if you have some family relationship troubles, maybe I can give you some advice." ”

"No...... My problem is not family, doctor, I need to know immediately if I am under the influence of drugs. ”