"What nonsense are you talking about? I... I don't understand at all."
The middle-aged woman averted her gaze, and just as she was about to say something, Charlotte Thompson swiftly grabbed her wrist.
"How could a perfectly good piece of clothing suddenly catch fire? There's no such thing as supernatural forces; every strange phenomenon has a rational explanation."
Charlotte stared calmly at the middle-aged woman's ashen fingers. Her voice wasn't loud, but each word was clear and understandable.
"Because you sprinkled phosphorus powder on the clothes, and after friction, the rising temperature caused the flames."
The middle-aged woman, who had originally wanted to struggle free from Charlotte's grip, froze upon hearing her words.
"What nonsense are you talking about! What phosphorus powder?"
