Maria wasn’t sure if the man standing before them was truly Mr. Frederick. She hadn’t even bothered to search his face online or look up any photos that might confirm his identity.
Just as she was about to turn her face away out of uncertainty, Laura suddenly bead and greeted him with excitent in her voice.
"Good morning, Mr. Frederick!" Laura said, practically glowing with smiles.
That was the confirmation Maria needed. She quickly stood up to her feet, startled by the realization and unsure how to compose herself.
"Good morning, sir," she greeted quietly, trying to arrange her posture and managing a small, respectful smile.
"Good morning to the both of you," Mr. Frederick replied with calm assurance, his tone warm but confident. He walked gracefully over to them and took a seat directly across from where they were sitting.
Maria’s heart beat a little faster. She hadn’t expected him to look so composed, so... powerful. Sitting across from him now, she realized just how serious this eting could turn out to be.
So many questions burned in her mind, but she knew she had to first calm herself before saying the wrong thing.
Then, he looked directly into her eyes. "Since we’re here, let’s get straight to the point," he said smoothly. "Tell why you wanted to see , Maria."
Maria’s breath caught in her throat.
He knows my na? she thought, stunned.
Her mind began racing. She hadn’t told him anything yet. The fact that he already knew who she was sent shivers down her spine. She suddenly beca even more aware of how important this conversation was.
With a deep breath, she decided to begin. "Mr. Frederick... from the way you carry yourself and how you speak, I can already tell you’re a respectable man," she started, trying to gather her thoughts.
"There are many questions surrounding the death of my parents, and the house you currently live in, it was our ho. It belonged to them. I need to know... who sold the house to you?"
Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled lightly in her lap. She looked straight into his eyes as she asked the question, hoping he would understand the weight of what she was asking.
To her surprise, Mr. Frederick suddenly began to laugh—a low, knowing laugh that lasted just a little too long. Then, just as suddenly, he composed himself and leaned forward.
Maria sat frozen, confused by his reaction. The laugh could an anything. Was he amused by the question? Was he mocking her? Or was it sothing deeper? Whatever it was, she was desperate to know.
He stared at her with quiet intensity. "First of all," he began slowly, "yes—I’m fully aware that the house belonged to your late parents. Secondly... why do you think I’d tell you who sold it to ?"
His question landed like a punch. Maria’s jaw tightened slightly, but she forced herself to remain calm. Getting angry would only ruin the opportunity she had worked so hard to get.
"I know it might seem wrong for to ask sothing so personal, sir," she said more gently now, her tone humble. "But I really need your help. I’m in a tight place, and every little piece of information counts right now."
Mr. Frederick studied her for a mont. Then he leaned back comfortably in his seat, picked up a wine glass from the table, and took a slow sip.
"Hmm..." he muttered thoughtfully. "I do have a proposal for you, Maria."
Maria leaned forward slightly, intrigued and nervous.
"You have two choices," he continued. "You can either insist on knowing who sold the house, or... you can work with . Let use my resources and connections to help you uncover who truly murdered your parents—assuming, of course, that you still believe it was murder and not an accident."
Maria froze.
For a few seconds, it felt like the whole restaurant faded into silence. Her breathing slowed, and her heart thudded in her chest.
That proposal... it was unexpected and powerful. She could sense that Mr. Frederick wasn’t just offering to help; he was also testing her. And though the choice seed obvious, one part of her still burned with the desire to know who had sold her childhood ho.
As she was about to speak, Laura gently tapped her on the shoulder and leaned in close.
"Please don’t make the wrong choice," she whispered into Maria’s ear. "He’s a very strong and influential man. He can actually help you get justice. Just... be wise, okay?"
Maria nodded slightly, her mind racing with emotions and thoughts.
Mr. Frederick watched them quietly, his expression unreadable. It was like he was watching a scene unfold in a film—completely patient, yet fully engaged.
Finally, Maria turned to face him again.
"Sir," she said with new resolve in her voice, "I want justice for my parents. So yes, I will work with you to find out who murdered them—and make sure they face justice, or worse."
A small smile crept across Mr. Frederick’s face. "That’s a wise choice," he said. Then his expression grew serious. "But tell this, Maria... why do you think your parents were murdered? What makes you so sure it wasn’t just a normal death?"
Maria sighed, her fingers interlocking as she lowered her head briefly. She lifted her hands to her forehead, as though holding back tears or reliving sothing too painful.
"Because I was in the car with them that day," she whispered. "And what happened... it wasn’t normal."
She looked up and t his eyes again. "Let explain what I saw."
"I was in the car with my parents that day," Maria began, her voice soft but steady. "We were laughing, sharing stories, even though we all had things troubling us. But that was the kind of family we were—no matter how hard things got, we always found reasons to smile."
She paused for a mont, gathering herself as both Mr. Frederick and Laura listened intently...
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