THE PROPOSAL

ALTHEA'S POV

The air in the living room was thick with tension, and I could feel it as I sat there with my mother. Bella, my younger sister, seemed to sense it too. It had been a week since the incident, and its aftermath hung heavy in the air. The mood in our family was grim and anxious, and I didn't know what to say to lighten the tension. My whole family was in a state of panic.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could utter a word, the front door opened and someone walked in. I looked up, my heart racing as I recognized Mr. Carter, our family friend.

As Mr. Carter approached us, I noticed the anger in his eyes and the tightness of his jaw. I wondered what had happened to put him in such a bad mood.

We all stood up in respect as Mr. Carter entered the room, and my mom greeted him with a warm smile.

“Good day, Mr. Carter.” My mother greeted, her voice sounding more cheerful than I knew she felt. She was trying to keep the peace, I could tell. I bowed my head in respect, not sure what to say or do.

I could feel Mr. Carter's gaze on each and everyone of us, even with my head bowed. The silence in the room was stifling, and the tension was domineering. Finally, Mr. Carter took a deep breath, and I knew he was about to speak.

"Bella, could you please give us a moment?" he asked politely, though his voice was strained.

Bella smiled politely and nodded, then walked to the door. As she left the room, the door closed behind her with a soft click, and we were left alone with Mr. Carter.

With Bella gone, us adults finally had the time to discuss. It was clear that something was very wrong, and the air seemed to be charged with a sense of foreboding.

"Mr. Carter, please have a seat," I said, trying to break the silence with a show of hospitality.

"Do not bother. I prefer to stand." he replied, his voice cold and his eyes fixed on my mother.

As Mr. Carter spoke, I could see my mother's body tense up. She stood there, frozen in place, as he held her gaze. It was as if she was afraid to move, or even to breathe. I could feel the tension in the room rising, and I could see the fear in my mother's eyes. I had never seen her look so afraid, and it was starting to make me feel afraid too.

My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what was happening.

My mother shifted uncomfortably under Mr. Carter's gaze, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape. I had never seen Mr. Carter act like this before. He looked at my mother, his eyes brimming with the intention to strangle her.

My mother's eyes flicked toward me, and I met her gaze. We both seemed to be thinking the same thing: this was not the Mr. Carter that we knew. His words and actions were strange and unsettling. The friendly man we had come to know was gone, and in his place was someone we didn't recognize.

The tension in the room was getting thicker, and the silence heavier. Neither of us knew what to say or do next.

"Mr. Carter, what's going on?" I asked, my voice quivering slightly.

"What brings you over? Is there something you need to tell us, Mr. Carter?" my mother asked, her voice shaking slightly. "Have you heard any news about my husband? Do you know where he is?"

Her questions hung in the air, and I held my breath, waiting for Mr. Carter's response. My interest perked up to the roof. A million thoughts raced through my mind, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. What did he know? And what did it mean for my family?

"I have not found any information about Daniel," Mr. Carter said flatly, referring to my father by his name, as if he was completely disinterested in the matter. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black suit trousers, and he stared at us impassively.

The lack of emotion in his response sent a chill down my spine. Something was definitely not right here. The hope in my heart died down and I felt a sense of dread wash over me.

My mother's shoulders sagged with a sigh, and she sank back into her chair, the hope draining from her face. "It's been a week, and we still haven't heard anything. I'm so afraid. What if he's... gone?" she said, her voice breaking.

I rushed to my mother's side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't say that, mother. Father will come home, safe and sound. I'm sure of it." I said, my voice full of conviction.

Mr. Carter stood there, a strange look on his face, watching our exchange with an inscrutable expression. I couldn't shake the feeling that he knew something we didn't, and I was desperate to know what it was.

"Mr. Carter, please," I said, turning to face him. "If you know anything, please tell us. This uncertainty is killing us."

He turned his gaze to me, and for a moment I thought I saw a flicker of something like regret in his eyes. But then it was gone, and his expression was hard and unreadable once again.

"But why haven't the kidnappers said anything?! Why haven't they called us yet?!" my mother cried, the tears spilling over onto her cheeks. "It's been a week. What are they waiting for? Why aren't they demanding money? What do they want from us? Who would do this to us?!" She was clearly at her wit's end, her despair noticeable.

I tried to reassure her. "Mother, it's going to be okay. We have Mr. Carter on our side. He's our friend, and he'll help us through this. As long as we have him, everything is going to be alright. Right, Mr Carter?” My mother and I turned to Mr. Carter, our eyes pleading with him to give us some information, some clue as to what was going on, waiting heavily for his reply. But he just stood there, impassive, as if he hadn't heard a word we'd said.

To our utmost surprise, Mr. Carter burst into a chuckle. The chuckle grew louder and louder, turning into full-blown laughter. His laughter was wild and uncontrolled, and he clapped his hands as he laughed. The laughter caught us off guard, and we stood there in shock as Mr. Carter's laughter grew louder and more unhinged. His hands were clapping wildly, and he seemed to be losing control. Was he having a breakdown? We were at a loss for what to do.

My mother and I stared at him in disbelief, worried that he had lost his mind. The thought occurred to us that we might be on our own now. Mr. Carter has always been our rock, our confidant. But now he seemed to be falling apart before our very own eyes.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Carter said, finally regaining control of himself. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to compose himself. "I know this is serious, but the way you phrased it just struck me as funny. You had me there with your words.”

"What is funny with what I said?" I asked with confusion plastered on my face, standing upright to face him.

"I didn't mean to imply that it was funny. I just wasn't expecting that question.” Mr Carter stated coldly.

“You mentioned 'help,' which implies that I would be able…that I have to assist you and your family. You also said that I am friends with your family, which is…." Mr. Carter's tone was calm and measured, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his words.

It seemed like he was choosing his words carefully, trying to avoid saying something. I got the sense that he was treading lightly, not wanting to reveal it to me and my mother.

"But are you not friends with our family? Are you not going to help us out?" I asked further with confusion clearly written over my face and that of my mother's. This conversation was taking a new turn.

"Oh yes, of course!" Mr. Carter's tone was sarcastic, almost mocking. "I'm your family friend, and I'll be happy to help you with whatever you need. I do care about your family, totally!"

The implication was clear. The sarcasm in his voice made it obvious that he didn't take our request seriously. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Nonetheless, I still had to show my gratitude. “Thank you very much.” I appreciated his words even though my eyebrows were up in confusion.

"You're welcome," he said, and I could tell he was trying to be gracious. But his next words left me puzzled and uncertain. "In fact, as an act of kindness and help, I have a proposal for you and your family," he said, his tone serious and mysterious, his hands out of his pockets.

I wasn't sure what to make of his words. A proposal? What could he possibly have in mind? I felt a mix of curiosity and trepidation as I waited for him to continue. It took him a moment before he finally spoke out.

"You're wondering what it is, aren't you?" Mr. Carter said with a knowing smile.

The look in his eyes was contagious, and I felt a surge of optimism. "What is it?" I asked, eager to know more. “Does it perhaps include helping us find my father? I would instantly accept it if it did.” I said curiously with a smile spreading across my face.

"Well, it may be able to help you find your father and get him released." Mr Carter disclosed to us.

"Get him released?" I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean by that? Do you know where my father is?" I turned to my mother, hoping she might have some insight.

"Yes, please tell us," my mother added, her voice tinged with hope and anxiety.

Mr. Carter's expression remained unreadable. "Would you be open to hearing my proposal first?" he asked, his tone as neutral as ever.

“What is it, Mr Carter?” I asked politely. I needed to get this over with so that he could tell us more about my father.

"I want you to get married to my son!" Mr. Carter said, his voice suddenly serious.

"What?!" I exclaimed, the shock making my heart race. "I'm sorry, but... what?"

“You heard me right.” Mr Carter said impassively.

"What?! Are you serious?" I asked, my voice catching in my throat. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I'm only kidding," Mr. Carter said, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Don't worry, it was just a little joke."

My mother let out a nervous laugh, but I could tell she was still unsettled by the whole exchange. I tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but it lingered in the air like a bad smell.

"Don't worry, sweetie," my mother said, her voice soothing. "Mr. Carter is always playing pranks. He's just trying to lighten the mood after everything that's happened."

She gave me a reassuring smile, but I could tell she was still shaken by the whole ordeal. We stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the weight of the situation.

"Just kidding!" Mr. Carter said, his voice playful.

We both laughed, but I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over me. It was like an ominous cloud, hovering above our heads, waiting to burst.

My mother's laughter died down, and she turned to Mr. Carter, a serious expression on her face. "You're not serious, are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Carter's smile faded, and he fixed his gaze coldly on my mother. “Right. Now here is my real proposal. I want you to get married to my son if you ever want your father to be released!” Mr Carter said coldly, pointing at me while staring into my eyes.

The room went quiet, and I could feel the tension rising. The laughter from moments ago was a distant memory, replaced by a palpable sense of unease. My mother's eyes were wide, and her breathing was shallow. Mr. Carter's expression was unreadable, and I wasn't sure what to make of his words.

I could feel it as my smile slowly came down. The joke was no longer funny.