Chapter 4 - The Broken Frame
The rain began late in the evening on the fourth day. Long, gray sheets of water slammed against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the Whitmore estate, mirroring the grim atmosphere inside.
Daniel had organized a formal dinner in the grand dining room, hoping to break the icy stalemate that had developed between Ethan and the five candidates. The table was set with heavy sterling silver, crystal stemware, and elaborate floral arrangements.
Ethan sat at the head of the table next to his father, dressed in a small charcoal suit that felt stiff and uncomfortable. To his left sat Dr. Melissa Grant and Lauren Reed; to his right, Vanessa Cole, Katherine Shaw, and Olivia Pierce.
“Ethan,” Dr. Grant began, cutting her filet mignon with precise, surgical efficiency. “I spoke with the headmaster at Saint Jude’s Academy today. It’s the premier boarding school in New England. I believe setting up an early application for you would ensure a disciplined, highly structured environment.”
Ethan stopped chewing. “Boarding school?”
“It builds character,” Melissa said smoothly. “A young man of your family’s stature needs proper rigor, free from domestic distractions.”
Daniel frowned slightly. “We haven't discussed boarding school, Melissa.”
“It’s merely a suggestion,” she replied, unfazed. “A child needs clear boundaries and top-tier networking from a young age.”
Across the table, Vanessa leaned in, tilting her head with a sympathetic expression. “Oh, Melissa, don't be so cold. Ethan doesn't need to be shipped away. He needs a mother who can host events, introduce him to high society, and ensure the Whitmore name remains prestigious.” She turned her sparkling eyes to Ethan. “Wouldn't you like to attend galas in New York and Paris, sweetie?”
“No,” Ethan said flatly. “I like going to the park.”
Katherine chuckled, sipping her red wine. “The park is fine for now, but childhood passes quickly. You need someone who understands legacy.”
While the women debated his future as if he were a corporate acquisition, Emily entered the dining room quietly, holding a silver tray with water carafes to refill their glasses. Her hand was wrapped in a cleaner, professional bandage, but she moved with noticeable caution to avoid bumping anything.
As Emily approached the side table near the dining room entrance, she noticed a small, framed photograph sitting on a display shelf. It was the only photograph in the main house that featured Ethan’s late mother, Eleanor—a candid picture taken at a beach three years ago, showing her laughing with Ethan in her arms.
Vanessa, noticing Emily’s proximity to the display shelf, stood up from the table under the guise of stretching her legs. She walked toward the side table, her eyes scanning the room.
“This decor is a bit dated, Daniel,” Vanessa remarked, picking up the silver frame containing Eleanor’s picture. “A modern aesthetic would give the house a much needed energy lift.”
“Put that back,” Ethan said, his voice rising sharply.
Vanessa turned, holding the frame casually between two fingers. “It’s just an old photo, Ethan. Cluttering the public spaces with... reminders... makes it difficult for the house to move forward.”
“Give it to me!” Ethan demanded, standing up from his chair so fast his silver fork clattered against his plate.
“Ethan, calm down,” Daniel said, rising from his seat.
In her haste to step away from the approaching boy, Vanessa made a sharp, jerky movement with her arm. The frame slipped from her fingers.
Crash.
The glass shattered against the hard marble floor, tearing slightly through the corner of the printed photograph inside.
Ethan gasped, dropping to his knees instantly to reach for the ruined picture. “Mom...”
Vanessa took a quick step back, her face showing a flash of panic before she quickly recovered her composure. “Oh, dear. The latch was loose. Daniel, you really ought to have the staff secure these items better.”
Emily didn't hesitate. She dropped her tray onto a side table and dropped to the floor beside Ethan. “Don't touch the glass, Ethan, you’ll cut yourself,” she whispered urgently.
“She broke my mom’s picture!” Ethan sobbed, tears spilling over his cheeks for the first time since the women had arrived.
Emily carefully lifted the heavy pieces of broken glass, moving them away from the boy’s trembling hands. She took the torn paper photo and held it gently, using her thumb to brush away the tiny slivers of glass clinging to his mother’s face.
“It’s okay,” Emily said softly, her voice steady and warm amidst the chaos. “The picture isn't destroyed, Ethan. Look, your mom is still right here. We can fix the frame. I have a clean one in the back office.”
Daniel walked over, his face dark with suppressed anger. He looked at Vanessa, whose smile had completely vanished, replaced by an expression of cold defiance.
“It was an accident,” Vanessa insisted, though there was no regret in her voice.
“You should leave the table, Vanessa,” Daniel said, his voice dangerously low.
“Daniel, surely you aren't blaming me for a loose frame—”
“I said, leave the table.”
Vanessa turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.
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Ethan buried his face against Emily’s shoulder, his small arms wrapping tightly around her neck. Emily didn't care about the strict rule against physical contact with the family; she held the boy, rubbing his back softly until his sobs quieted down.
Daniel stood over them, looking down at the maid who was currently comforting his son, and then at the four remaining wealthy women sitting at his table, none of whom had moved an inch to help.
