Invitation?
Of what? Who would send this to a newcomer here in America?
I just can't figure it out.
Puzzled, I receive it from the little girl, express my thanks, and open it.
Before long, I realize the identity of the inviter.
It’s Hilda Farey.
The banquet tonight I am invited to is to celebrate her first wedding anniversary with Frances Louis.
I know it’s for showing off.
That’s what she has been doing since she got Frances.
I definitely don’t want to see her.
But a thought of Frances changes my mind.
I have been holding back my will to see him, only to avoid suspicion from Hilda.
Now that I am invited by her, I will certainly seize the chance.
A party as I am attending, I find I am short of fancy dress. I am here simply on a business trip, after all.
After a moment of consideration, I decide to buy one for the party.
It takes long before a royal blue dress appeals to me with its well-cut style and its beautiful color that
fits me nicely.
I wonder whether it’s because the price is so high in America or I am taken advantage of.
For it costs 8,000 dollars.
The good thing is that I need to spend for nobody but myself, so it’s actually quite affordable for me
now.
But after all, it’s quite a sum of money!
Well, it’s the only way for me not to be looked down upon by Hilda.
Sure enough, the price of this is far lower than that of her clothes, though.
I go back to the apartment after the shopping.
When I open the door, I am greeted by no one, without any sign of the man who lay on the floor.
Did he leave when the medical effect was out?
But I don’t really care. I actually feel better without having to explain the situation to him any longer.
I spend three hours making sure I have a perfect makeup, get a satisfying hair dress from a salon
before I set off to the banquet.
It is in a luxury villa, where allegedly Hilda and Terence used to live there.
From this, I truly feel how cold-blooded that woman is.
Though she killed him with her own hands, she doesn’t feel anything, staying where it used to be their
sweet home.
Doesn’t she have any sense of guilt?
Standing in front of the residence, a sense of unease strikes me.
I’ll see Frances soon. Can I convince Hilda of my indifference when I actually care?
Right at this moment, she came out, holding Frances’ hand.
My heart beats tremendously fast.
I take deep breaths, trying to appear a little more calm.
In contrast, Frances looks too much collected.
Slowly, his eyes are fixed on me.
But he shifts his focus at once.
He acts as if I am a mere stranger.
Looking at Hilda, displeased, he says, “Why did you invite her on this very day?”
She grins, and says, “I happened to know she’s on a business trip. Quite a coincidence. So I thought it
would be good to have our old friend here on this joyful occasion.”
“As long as you’re pleased.”
He stared at her, his eyes brimming with fondness, his face showing a hint of a smile.
Much as I know he is masking his emotions, I can’t help feeling grieved.
I avert my bleak gaze away and go inward.
The moment I walk in, I am stunned.
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