Chapter 6: The Family's Scrutiny

The vastness and luxury of the Franklin estate were stunning, but they also came with a burden that made me feel like an outsider in someone else's world. The estate was bustling with activity this morning. While he didn't seem very excited about it, Williams had told me during breakfast that his family was getting together for a formal meal, which is reportedly a tradition.

He stated plainly, "They'll ask questions," looking at me as if I were a conundrum he was unable to understand. "Avoid anything personal, be courteous, and remain ambiguous."

Even though I felt uneasy, I answered, "Got it." Although I was able to tolerate intrusive questioning, the weight of what I had learnt about the Harringtons made me feel as though I were carrying a secret that might blow up at any time.

The mood instantly changed as soon as we entered the opulent dining room. Already there were Marcel and Sophia, staring at me with piercing eyes as though I were an intruder. Other relatives joined the room, all of them radiating the refined haughtiness of those who had never experienced hardship.

“Ah, the notorious Mrs. Franklin,” Marcel replied, rising from his chair with a tone full of banter. There was nothing kind about the way he held out his hand to me.

"Freda," I said, giving him a quick handshake. His smile was cunning, and his grip was tight.

Sophia, Marcel's fiancée, stood behind him with her flawlessly styled chignon of frosty blonde hair. She was wearing an emerald-green dress that fit her slim figure, and her piercing green eyes were evaluating me as if I were something she would want to return.

Her voice was soft yet cold as she said, "Welcome." "It's wonderful to meet the woman who has captured Williams' heart at last."

It was obvious from the way she used the word "heart" that she didn't believe it.

With a forced smile, I said, "Thank you."

Williams, who was standing next to me, touched my lower back. Though it was a deliberate manoeuvre, I felt sufficiently reassured to maintain my position.

"Should we take a seat?" His tone made it impossible to argue with what he stated.

Under the veneer of decorum, lunch was a battlefield. As the rest of the family looked on with scarcely disguised curiosity, Marcel and Sophia took the lead and barraged me with probing questions.

“So, Freda,” Marcel said, leaning back in his chair and swirling his wine. "Where are you from, as you mentioned?"

"Upstate New York," I answered in a bland voice.

Sophia smiled sharply and replied, "Interesting." "Definitely not the social circles we're accustomed to."

I took a sip of water to buy myself some time, and then I said, "I imagine not."

"And before you met Williams, what did you do?" Marcel pushed.

"Various jobs," I mumbled hazily. "I worked in retail, as a waitress, or whatever paid the bills while I was a college graduate."

Sophia's eyebrows raised in a beautiful arch. “How ingenious. What did you study, too?”

"English," I said.

"Realistic," she muttered, her voice brimming with irony.

My cheeks were hot, but I didn't want them to see me falter. "It helped me develop critical thinking and adaptability skills, which seem to be useful in this family."

Williams hastily covered up the little smirk that graced his lips.

But Marcel wasn't done yet. "There's no denying that adaptability is crucial," he stated. "Especially when entering a world that is so...different from your own."

The implication was obvious, but the talk was cut off by a loud clatter before I could reply.

Everyone's gaze shifted to the doorway, where an elderly woman with sharp grey eyes and silver-streaked hair stood. The matriarch of the family, Margaret Franklin, had come.

---

The energy in the room completely changed when Margaret entered. She walked with a sense of command, her piercing eyes darting over the table before focussing on me.

"So, this is the new Mrs. Franklin," she stated in a calm, collected tone.

"Yes," I replied, standing respectfully. "Mrs. Franklin, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Her look was impenetrable as she observed me for a long time. After sitting at the head of the table, she finally responded, "We'll see about that."

Although I could feel Margaret's eyes on me several times, the remainder of the meal was spent in tense quiet.

The family split off into smaller groups after lunch, and Sophia cornered me close to the opulent staircase.

With a tone as piercing as her shoes, she remarked, "You're doing well." "Better than I thought."

"Thank you," I responded warily.

“But allow me to offer you some guidance,” she added, bending slightly closer. "People are eaten alive by this family. You could become their next meal if you're not careful.

I forced a smile and said, "Thanks for the warning."

Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head. "Freda, you have secrets. I smell it. Furthermore, this family doesn't keep secrets for very long.

She then turned and left, sending a shiver down my spine.

---

Desperate for a breather, I withdrew to Williams' penthouse library that evening. However, my fingers brushed upon an odd object as I looked through the shelves.

Between two books was a folded piece of paper. My heart pounding, I took it out and unfurled it.

The letter was antique and had a beautiful handwriting style. The contents chilled my blood.

* "To Whom It May Concern, everything we've accomplished will be in jeopardy if this youngster is found. For the sake of the family, she must vanish.*

No signature. No date. However, the ramifications were obvious.

I had hardly had time to comprehend the letter when I spun around in response to the door opening sound.

Williams' face was unreadable as he stood in the doorway. His gaze shifted from my face to the note in my palm and back again.

His voice was dangerously low as he said, "What are you doing?"

I became aware that I was standing on the brink of a very steep precipice too late, and the question lingered in the air like a challenge.