Chapter 5: The Hidden Letter

"You don't agree?" Elizabeth repeated with a chuckle, her eyebrows raised up at her. "You think some backwater hick like you is worthy of my son?"

The words would have crushed most people.

Amber could hear the contempt in the older woman's voice. There was no effort to hide it. 

Elizabeth Winchester had spent decades surrounded by powerful people, influential families, and individuals who would do almost anything to gain access to the Winchester name. 

From her perspective, Amber was nothing more than a forgotten girl who had suddenly appeared from nowhere demanding to keep an engagement she had never even participated in.

But Amber had expected resistance.

She had expected ridicule.

She had expected exactly this.

That was why she had come prepared.

The private sitting room was silent except for the faint ticking of an antique clock mounted on the wall. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows behind Elizabeth, casting long shadows across the expensive carpet. 

The old woman sat comfortably in her chair, a glass of wine resting in one hand while her sharp eyes remained fixed on Amber.

She was waiting.

Waiting to hear what ridiculous argument this girl thought she could possibly make.

Amber remained standing.

Her expression never changed.

The young woman simply looked at her as though she had expected the reaction all along.

"Mrs. Winchester," Amber began, her voice slow and casual, her eyes turning on something she was holding to the woman on intervals. "my mother arranged this engagement with you. And right now, I need the union more than ever."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed slightly.

The mention of Amber's mother immediately caught her attention.

A long-forgotten memory stirred somewhere in the back of her mind.

The memory was faint now, buried beneath time and countless responsibilities.

Still, she remained silent.

"What are you getting at, young lady?" The old woman snapped.

Amber inhaled slowly.

Everything depended on how convincing she sounded.

Not because she was lying. But because she needed Elizabeth to keep listening.

"You know my family situation." Amber continued, trying to sound convincing. "If I don't become the Winchester's future daughter-in-law, I won't survive. They'll tear me apart. You and your son are my last hope."

Elizabeth stared at her.

The room fell silent again.

For several moments, she simply studied Amber's face.

The old woman had met countless opportunists throughout her life.

Men and women who pretended to be victims.

People who exaggerated their suffering to gain sympathy. People who viewed the Winchester family as a ladder to power.

At first glance, Amber's words sounded exactly like that.

Yet something felt different.

Perhaps it was the fact that Amber wasn't crying.

She wasn't begging.

She wasn't throwing herself at Elizabeth's feet.

If anything, she sounded strangely composed for someone supposedly pleading for help.

The contradiction bothered Elizabeth.

She took a slow sip from her wine.

Then she leaned back slightly in her chair.

"Do you think you can push your way into the Winchester family?" She asked, and chuckled again, her wine still held in one hand untouched. "You're not just shameless. You're delusional. And you think I will just fold because you need a lifeline? Why should we?"

The question lingered between them.

Amber wasn't surprised. In fact, she had been waiting for it.

She slowly tilted her head, then smiled.

The confident smile of someone holding an advantage.

Elizabeth noticed that immediately, and even though she didn’t like it, she couldn’t place a hand on exactly that ‘advantage.’

"Because…" Amber said and halted. "You might wanna see what I have before you do that." 

Her fingers tilted with her feminine body as she turned and removing something from her small handbag.

Elizabeth just sat there, watching her, bewildered.

For the first time since the conversation began, genuine curiosity appeared in her eyes.

Amber opened the handbag carefully.

Elizabeth found herself leaning forward slightly despite herself.

What could possibly be inside that bag?

A contract?

A photograph?

Evidence of something?

The possibilities raced through her mind.

Amber's fingers disappeared into the handbag.

A second later, she pulled something out.

A small brown envelope. Insignificant.

Yet the moment Elizabeth saw it, something inside her shifted. And the smile on Amber's face widened slightly.

Amber removed the small brown envelope, smiling. "You might recognize your handwriting in here." She said, still smiling as she stretched the envelope towards Elizabeth.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

Elizabeth's eyes locked onto the envelope, before moving shockingly to Amber.

Amber stared back while the silence stretched.

Seconds longer than expected passed before Elizabeth finally reached forward.

Her eyebrows remained furrowed at Amber, hesitating before she finally snatched the envelope from her hand.

The envelope felt heavier than it should.

Her quickly drop the glass of wine, gave Amber one last shocking stare before she turn back to the envelope, removing the paper inside so fast as if her life depended on it.

Amber now shifted and took her seat, watching the old woman.

For the first time since entering the room, she allowed herself to relax.

The hardest part was over. Now all she needed was for Elizabeth to remember.

The paper slid free. A single folded document.

A letter.

The edges had yellowed slightly with age.

Time had left its mark upon it. But the contents remained untouched.

Elizabeth unfolded it.

The instant her eyes landed on the handwriting, the color drained from her face.

Elizabeth removed the paper.

It was a letter, her handwriting. Years ago, she had written it herself.

The memories came rushing back with brutal force. Her hand tightened on the edges of the paper as she read.

She began to breath fast now, gasping, her eyes furrowed.

Then turn back to Amber.  "You...."