Chapter 3

I looked up toward the voice.

On the spiral staircase on the second floor stood a woman, a few years older than me.

She wore a perfectly tailored beige suit, her long hair twisted up in a bun, showing off a face that looked a lot like Zelda's, only sharper, with a colder kind of beauty.

Her eyes were like scalpels, slicing straight into me, as if she was dissecting me with her gaze.

My heart leaped into my throat.

Zelda said with a smile, pulling me inside, "Aurora, why are you home already today? Come on, let me introduce you. This is Tasha Hampton, a friend of Morton's."

The woman's brow barely twitched. She descended the stairs, her heels clicking crisply on the marble, each step echoing in my chest like a hammer to my heart.

She stopped in front of us, her gaze locked on me, and reached out her hand. "Aurora Parker."

"Tasha Hampton," I replied quickly, brushing her cold fingertips and pulling my hand back almost instantly.

"Morton's friend?" Aurora arched a brow, her lips twisting into a smirk. "Strange, I've never heard Morton mention you."

I knew that this moment would come.

I knew that not everyone would let grief cloud their judgment like Zelda.

Zelda said, patting Aurora's arm with a hint of reproach, "Why are you talking like that? Morton's always been a bit of a loner. It's perfectly normal for him to have some friends he doesn't tell the family about."

Zelda turned to me, her voice gentle. "Tasha, don't mind her. Aurora doesn't mean any harm. She's just busy with work and tends to be a little distant."

I gave a dry, awkward smile and kept quiet.

But Aurora wasn't about to let me off the hook. She crossed her arms, sizing me up from head to toe.

"So, Miss Hampton, where exactly did you meet my brother?" she asked, her tone sharp.

My palms started to sweat.

I couldn't exactly say I met him at his grave.

My mind raced, searching desperately for any answer that wouldn't get me in trouble.

"We met at an art exhibition," I blurted out, totally making it up.

The photo of Morton on his tombstone had that artsy vibe. I guessed that it would be a safe bet that he was into art exhibitions.

Aurora arched her brow. "An art exhibition? Which one? Morton was only interested in classical oil paintings, and there haven't been many major classical oil painting exhibitions in the country in recent years."

Her questions kept coming, closing in on me like a net.

My back was damp with cold sweat.

I said, trying to brush it off, "It was just a small private art show. I forgot the name."

Aurora said, skeptical, "Is that so? Can't you even remember the name? Seems like that exhibition didn't leave much of an impression on you, Miss Hampton."

Zelda's tone grew sharper. "Aurora! What's with you today? Are you really going to grill Tasha like she's some kind of criminal?

"I saw her at the cemetery. She was crying her heart out, even more than me. You can't fake that kind of feeling!"

Aurora went quiet. She shot her mother a look, clearly seeing how upset she was, and didn't say anything else. But the way she looked at me was still full of doubt.

This family was even more dangerous than I'd expected.

Just as I thought, getting 2 million dollars wasn't going to be easy.

Zelda pulled me down onto the plush living room sofa and turned to Mabel. "Go tidy up Morton's room. Tasha will be staying there."

"Yes, ma'am," Mabel replied.

I sprang up from the sofa. "Zelda, no way. I can't stay here, and I definitely can't sleep in Morton's room!"

I couldn't believe that she wanted me to move into the room of someone who had passed. That was not just stretching the truth. It would be straight-up disrespectful to the dead.

"Why not?" Zelda stood up, looking genuinely puzzled. "Weren't you his best friend? Staying in his room, being around his stuff is a way to remember him, isn't it?"

"I..." I stammered, totally lost for words.

Zelda said, not leaving any room for argument, "That's final. You've had a long day. Just stay here and get some rest. We'll sort everything else out tomorrow."

She was firm as ever, while Aurora watched from the side, clearly waiting for the drama to unfold.

I couldn't help but feel like I'd stumbled right into a giant trap. I was baited with grief and money, locked up tight by family bonds. There was nowhere for me to run.

Dinner was tense and awkward.

The long dining table was covered with a spotless white cloth, set with elegant dishes and a feast fit for royalty. Zelda, Aurora, and I sat far apart, each lost in our own silence as we ate.

Mabel ladled me a bowl of chicken and matsutake mushroom soup. The smell was amazing, but I couldn't swallow a single spoonful. It was completely flavorless to me.

"Tasha, why aren't you eating? Is it not to your taste?" Zelda asked, her voice full of concern.

"No, Zelda, it's really good," I replied quickly, hurriedly taking a spoonful of soup.

Zelda said, putting a piece of fish on my plate, "Then eat up. You're way too skinny. Morton was a picky eater, too, just like you. No matter what I said, he never listened."

She brought up Morton again.