“Hmph! There’s not a single good person in the Sweeney family. They just want to harm our Sylvia,” Mr. Hipps grumbled angrily. “They think Sylvia is easy to bully.”
Queena looked at the photos in the news. “Oh, you’re worrying for nothing. When has Sylvia ever been easy to bully? Look at how beautifully she fought back.”
“The Sweeney family is really trash,” Mr. Hipps still felt uneasy.
“Alright, alright. Sylvia is bringing Mr. Maskelyne over for dinner later. Go check on the kitchen and see how the preparations are going,” Queena urged, not wanting to hear Mr. Hipps continue his rant.
“Mr. Maskelyne is coming?” Mr. Hipps immediately perked up and hurried towards the kitchen. Before he even entered, his voice boomed, “Hurry up and get those crabs ready for steaming, and prepare the abalone too. And don’t forget the Australian lobsters.”
“Got it, sir,” the busy kitchen staff replied.
Mr. Maskelyne was the president’s son; they couldn’t afford to be negligent.
Franklin and Sylvia returned home around seven in the evening.
Mollie and Clare arrived with them.
“It’s Thanksgiving today,” Queena said happily, instructing the servants to bring out two plates of sliced turkey. “Let’s all have a taste of this year’s turkey before dinner.”
The turkey was cut into small pieces on the plates.
Sylvia took a piece and fed it to Franklin. As she turned to get another piece, Franklin suddenly popped a piece into her mouth, mirroring her actions.
At that moment, there was a click.
Clare had captured the scene with his camera. “The atmosphere is great, and so are your expressions! Fantastic!”
He used a Polaroid camera, so the photo developed instantly. He handed it to them, “Take a look.”
Sylvia took the photo and paused for a moment. Clare had perfectly captured the moment they fed each other turkey.
The photo looked like an advertisement.
Especially with her surprised expression and Franklin’s affectionate gaze, it was captured perfectly.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Uncle, you have a talent for photography.”
Despite her words, she kept the photo, thinking it was worth preserving.
“It captured you beautifully,” Franklin said as he finished his piece of turkey.
Mr. Hipps and Queena also tried the turkey, and Jasmine Hipps and Giancarlo Morales had returned as well, sitting together and chatting.
When the butler came to announce dinner, everyone moved towards the dining room in a lively group.
“This Thanksgiving, our Hipps Family is truly reunited,” Mr. Hipps remarked as soon as they sat down. “Sylvia is back too. It’s a pity… your mother isn’t here. If she were still alive and could come back, it would be perfect.”
“Dad, today is a day of reunion. Let’s not talk about sad things,” Clare quickly comforted Mr. Hipps. “I believe my sister is somewhere in this world, still alive.”
“Alright, everyone raise your glasses for a toast,” Queena said, lifting her wine glass.
The Hipps Family was filled with joy.
The Thanksgiving atmosphere affected everyone in the house.
After all, because of Sylvia’s return, the servants’ Thanksgiving bonuses had doubled this year.
How could they not be happy?
The night was dark, with a large round moon hanging high in the sky, casting gentle light.
In a secluded mountain area that looked like a secret base, a middle-aged woman slowly walked out of a tower.
She looked up at the moon, which shone like a silver disc, casting a silvery glow over the earth.
The woman wore simple white clothes, appearing gentle and elegant like the moonlight.
Her face was soft and gentle, with a hint of longing.
“Teacher, it’s Thanksgiving again,” said a man in his thirties who also emerged from the tower, standing behind her.
His wild hair made him look unruly, and his black clothes added to his disheveled appearance.
He carried a bag in his left hand and an instrument resembling a gauge in his right hand.
“Yes, it’s Thanksgiving again,” the woman sighed softly. “I’ve lost count of how many years I’ve been here.”
As she walked, her steps made clinking sounds. Upon closer inspection, one would notice heavy shackles on her feet in the dim light.
The sound came from those shackles.
She walked with difficulty; it was clear the shackles were heavy. Her ankles were swollen and calloused from long-term wear, looking painful.
Her hands were also covered in thick calluses from hard labor.
“Teacher…” The man hesitated to speak.
The woman glanced back at him with gentle eyes and a faint smile. “No need to say more. Go rest early.”
The man looked at her weathered but still beautiful face and felt dazed. One wouldn’t guess she was around fifty years old.
Like her, he also wore shackles on his feet and looked like a wild refugee.
“Don’t you want to leave?” he murmured softly, but she didn’t respond as if his words were lost in the wind.
The woman returned to her dormitory and opened her room door. Her expression turned cold as she stared sharply at a stylishly dressed woman in the center of the room.
“What are you doing here?”
“Madeleine, it’s Thanksgiving today. I just want to spend it with you,” said the masked woman holding a tray with delicate pastries and some turkey.
She placed the tray before Madeleine and scrutinized her for a while before speaking again. “Your skin is enviable. Despite all the heavy metals and radiation exposure, why don’t you age?”
The masked woman touched her own masked face with jealousy flashing in her eyes. “I’ve used so many cosmetic treatments and high-tech methods, yet I still age.”
“Because you have an evil heart!” Madeleine sneered and slapped the tray to the ground. “Don’t disgust me here. Get out!”
“Madeleine, why are you still so irritable? That’s not good…” The masked woman didn’t get angry but instead showed a strange glint in her eyes. “Is your research hitting a bottleneck? No worries, I can wait… until you make progress.”
“I don’t want to see you for even a minute!” Madeleine’s expression was icy as she dragged her heavy shackles towards the bathroom.
“Oh dear, already washing up? Fine by me; just give me your research results.” The masked woman raised an eyebrow and called after her retreating figure.
Madeleine slammed the bathroom door shut, and soon the sound of running water could be heard inside.
The masked woman sneered before leaving the room.
When Madeleine emerged from the bathroom, the room was empty again.
She dragged her heavy shackles to the bed and glanced around the simple room before sitting down and staring at her shackles for a long time.
These shackles were specially made-heavy and unopenable without a key.
She had studied them for many years but still couldn’t unlock them.
She sighed deeply and lay down on the bed, closing her eyes.
Her children… her family… she wondered how they were doing.
Her two daughters… were they alright?
Late at night at the Presidential Palace.
Franklin returned under the moonlight around eleven o’clock at night.
As he entered his residence’s first-floor hall, he saw it brightly lit with a middle-aged man sitting on the sofa with a grim face.
A plate of sliced turkey was on the coffee table before him.
Hearing footsteps, the man shot Franklin a sharp look and snorted with displeasure. “You’re something else! Not spending Thanksgiving with your father but running off to the Hipps Family!”
“I spent it with my wife. What’s wrong with that?” Franklin replied calmly as he walked to the sofa and looked at his angry father-the president. “You have so many women wanting to spend time with you. Why pretend with me?”
The president’s face darkened. He had postponed work and declined invitations from those women to spend Thanksgiving with his son, only for him to return late at night.
It infuriated him!