Chapter 5 Scandal Unveiled
CHAPTER 5
(Scandal Unveiled)
Anna's hand trembled as she folded the silk blouse, careful not to crease the delicate fabric.
It smelled faintly of Lauren's perfume, sharp and sweet, a scent that still clung to every corner of the room.
Every fold felt like trespassing. Every garment reminded her that Lauren lingered here, even in absence, even in death.
The door flew open.
“What do you think you're doing in here?”
Her stepmother's voice, like a whip crack, slicing the quiet.
Anna froze, blouse slipping from her fingers. The older woman stormed inside, heels striking against polished floors.
Her eyes, sharp and venomous, locked onto Anna with unrestrained fury.
“I—I came to collect some of my things and decided to arrange Lauren's things, it was all over the place.”
“Don't touch her things!”
Her stepmother's hand darted forward, ripping the blouse from Anna's grip.
“Your filthy hands are not worthy of what belonged to Lauren.”
Anna's lips parted, a weak defense struggling to form. “I didn't mean—”
The words cut short with the sting of a palm across her face. Pain burned hot, spreading over her skin, yet Anna did not cry out.
She only pressed her hand lightly against the welt as though holding the sound back too.
“You've always been a curse,” Margaret hissed, eyes shining with hate. “From the day you were born, you've been nothing but a living reminder of your father's betrayal. A bastard's brat. A shameful stain I've endured.”
Tears pricked Anna's eyes, but she forced them back. If she cried, her step mother would only sneer harder.
Margaret leaned in, her voice low and toxic. “Do you think I don't see it? You've always wanted this. You've always been jealous of Lauren.
Always staring at her gowns, her jewels, her life. And now she's gone, look at you… wearing her ring, sitting in her place, parading yourself like some cheap replacement doll.”
Her nails dug into Anna's arm, so deep she winced. “Mark me girl. You'll die the same way my daughter did. And when you do, I'll laugh.”
The words stole the air from Anna's lungs.
Margaret released her with a shove. Anna stumbled, hitting the edge of the vanity, the sharp corner hit her hip.
“Stay out of sight and keep your mouth shut tonight,” Margaret snapped as she stormed out. “The only reason you're still breathing is because your marriage keeps this family rich.”
The door slammed. The silence choking the room was broken by Anna's ragged breathing.
She pressed a shaking hand to the burning welt on her cheek.
The blouse her stepmother had ripped from her lay crumpled on the floor. Lauren's perfume still lingered, mocking her.
She wanted to scream, but no sound left her throat. She only bent down quietly, smoothed the blouse with shaking fingers, and gently placed it back in the closet.
The drive to the Fairchild Mansion felt like a prison sentence. Her father sat silent, staring straight ahead. He hadn't noticed the redness on her cheek, or maybe he had and simply chose not to see.
Beside him, Margaret's lips were pinched, her body rigid, like she was restraining herself from spitting more venom with Anna trapped so close.
Anna lowered her head, folding inwards, wishing to disappear into the rich leather seats.
When the car rolled up the endless driveway, the grand home looming like an ancient fortress. Or a prison.
The dining hall stretched like a cathedral, glittering chandeliers casting light over a table that seemed too long for comfort.
Anna sat where she was told, shoulders hunched, trying to vanish. But Helena's eyes found her instantly, lips curling.
“Well, if it isn't our little stand-in maid bride,” Helena said sweetly, loud enough for the table to hear.
“Tell me Anna, will you now begin practicing pretending to be Lauren in the mirror, or will it just come naturally?”
Heat burned Anna's face.
“Helena.” Katherine's voice was soft, clipped. She didn't even look at Anna, her gaze fixed on her silverware. “That's enough.”
Helena smirked. “I was only saying what everyone's thinking?”
Margaret snorted lightly beside Anna. “At least someone has the courage to say it.”
Anna stared at the untouched glass of water before her, wishing desperately for invisibility.
Her heart pounded as she entered the drawing room later that night.
The Fairchild family filled the space like royalty gathered for judgement. Edward sat, stern and immovable. Katherine perched at his side. Helena lounged on the settee, her cat on her lap.
The twins sat quietly near the fire, their expressions soft, wary.
And then there was William… standing by the window, back turned, the weight of command rolling off him even in silence.
Anna lingered by the door, every instinct screaming that she didn't belong here.
Margaret swept in, dragging Anna's father behind her. His eyes darted nervously, shoulders hunched as if he wished to melt into the walls. Margaret, however, was all steel.
“How lovely,” Helena muttered. “The imposter finally arrived.”
Anna flinched, but no one reprimanded her.
Then Doctor Calloway, the family physician and coroner, entered. Everyone quietened.
He cleared his throat. “The final autopsy results have been completed regarding Miss Lauren Lancaster’s passing.”
The words hit Anna like cold water. Her chest tightened.
Dr Calloway opened his file. “Cause of death was blood loss due to deep lacerations to the wrists, consistent with suicide.”
A whisper swept the room. Katherine's hand clutched her pearls tighter.
“But,” the doctor continued, his voice graver now, “there were anomalies.”
Anna's head shot up.
“First,” he said, “the cuts were not angled in a manner typical of self-infliction. The depth suggests significant force.”
Murmurs grew louder. Helena rolled her eyes, but even she looked unsettled.
“Second,” Dr. Calloway paused deliberately, scanning their faces, “to my knowledge, none of you were aware that Miss Lancaster was six weeks pregnant at the time of her death.”
The room erupted.
Katherine gasped, color draining from her face. Edward sat forward sharply. The twins exchanged stunned looks.
But it was William who reacted most calmly… he turned from the window, brows furrowed. “What?”
Dr Calloway's tone was steady. “Lauren was with child. And given the gestational age, conception occurred before her engagement to you, Mr. Fairchild.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Margaret broke it with a hiss. “This is outrageous. My daughter would never…”
“Your daughter was carrying another man's child while binding herself to my son. That makes her death more than a tragedy… it makes it a scandal.” Edward cut in icily.
Katherine's voice trembled, anger bubbling beneath her control. “Who? Who is the father?”
Dr Calloway closed the file. “That I cannot say. But it is certain that Lauren Lancaster did not take her own life willingly. There was resistance. Bruising. Defensive wounds.”
He hesitated, then said the words that sealed the room in stone. “Lauren Lancaster was murdered.”
Anna's stomach dropped, knees nearly buckling. She clutched the doorframe to steady herself.
Murdered. The word echoed in her skull.
Everyone began speaking at once… Katherine shouting for discretion, Edward demanding tranquility, Helena sneering about Lauren being reckless. Anna's father sat frozen, while Margaret pinched his arm hard enough to bruise.
Anna barely heard them. Her heart thudded painfully.
She looked up, straight into William's eyes. For the first time, he was looking directly at her. Not through her, not past her… at her. His gaze was sharp, assessing, as though he knew exactly what she's thinking.
Her breath caught.
Then Helena's voice pierced through the chaos.
“Well,” her smile was thin as a blade, “this makes everything much more interesting. Because if Lauren was murdered… then the murderer might still be among us, in this house.”
Her gaze slid deliberately to Anna.
Gasps rippled. Anna felt the blood drain from her face.
“That's absurd,” Olivia protested, standing quickly. “Anna… she has nothing to do with—”
“Did she? Think about it. She was the one who found Lauren. She stepped into her dress without hesitation. She married William with indecent speed. I can't be the only one smelling a rat.”
Anna's throat clogged. “That's not true—”
“Who else would benefit?” Margaret cut her off, voice rising.
“Who else would get to replace my Lauren in a single night? A bastard child desperate for a place in society, suddenly elevated to Lancaster wealth. How convenient that Lauren is out of the way!”
The room went still. All eyes turned to Anna.
Her stepmother's lips curled in cruel satisfaction. Edward's eyes narrowed. Even Katherine, icy and controlled, looked thoughtful.
Only Olivia and Oliver looked horrified. William's expression gave nothing away, his face unreadable.
And Anna sat frozen, breath shallow, knowing with sick certainty that whatever came next would destroy her.
