Chapter 4 What Do You Think

The July sun blazed mercilessly.

Brenna stood beneath the shade of a tree, waiting for her real family, the Harpers' car to arrive.

Half an hour had passed, but no one had come.

Just then, Brenna's phone suddenly vibrated with a friend request. A note accompanied it. "Hello, I'm Rosie Harper, your sister."

Brenna accepted the request without hesitation, and within seconds, she received a message from Rosie.

"Hello, I'm Rosie, your sister. Mom, Dad, and our elder brothers are tied up with work today, so they want you to go to Flavor Restaurant first. They've arranged lunch for you there."

Doubt crept into Brenna's mind. Was this some kind of scam? Why send her to a restaurant instead of simply giving her the Harper family's address?

But not many people knew she was heading to the Harper residence today. Whoever this was had to be a member of the Harper family.

A weight settled in Brenna's chest. Her first day home, and they couldn't even bother to pick her up? That said enough about how little they valued her.

She doubted this family would be any better than the Barrett family.

Another message from Rosie popped up.

"Brenna, I'll be waiting for you."

Brenna responded with a single word, "Okay."

It was nearly impossible to get a taxi at this hour. With no other choice, Brenna took the bus, getting off at Flavor Restaurant.

The establishment was the pinnacle of luxury in Shirie, a favorite haunt of the city's elite. Dining here meant dropping at least ten thousand dollars.

The moment Brenna pushed the door open and entered the restaurant, a blast of crisp, cool air wrapped around her, shielding her from the suffocating summer heat. Her lungs felt lighter instantly.

The restaurant was quiet, nearly empty. No one paid her any attention-except for a waitress who approached her with a polite smile.

The waitress was a young woman, pretty and probably in her early twenties. She wore a tailored red uniform, exuding professionalism. "Welcome, Miss. Are you Brenna Harper?"

"Yes. The Harpers asked me to meet them here. Could you tell me which room they're in?" Brenna's eyes scanned the space. No one seemed to be waiting for her, which meant the Harper family was likely in a private room.

The waitress kept her polished smile intact, subtly studying Brenna's casual outfit-a plain white T-shirt featuring a video game character, layered under an oversized striped shirt that draped past her frayed denim shorts. A worn baseball cap sat atop her head, partially hiding wavy hair streaked with deep blue.

Brenna's skin was smooth, her facial features delicate yet striking. The bold blue lipstick added an edge to her look.

Her voice was crisp, clear, effortlessly drawing attention from nearby tables.

"Miss, please follow me." The waitress gestured toward a table before continuing, "A woman from the Harper family waited for you here for over an hour but had to leave for something urgent. She'll be back shortly. She ordered for you, so please sit down. The dishes will arrive soon."

The table was set for six. Brenna chose the chair facing the door, tossing her backpack onto the seat beside her.

Moments later, the waitress returned with a glass of fresh orange juice. "Please enjoy. The food will be out shortly," she said politely.

Brenna nodded and thanked the waitress, though confusion lingered in her mind. Wasn't the Harper family supposed to be struggling financially? Why invite her to a restaurant this extravagant?

She couldn't make sense of what the Harper family was up to.

Pulling out her phone, she sent Rosie a message.

"I'm here already. When will you join me?"

Rosie responded soon, "I'm in a meeting right now. Might take a while. Go ahead and eat-no need to wait for me."

A meeting?

Brenna furrowed her brows upon seeing the message. Weren't the Harpers supposed to live in a poor, remote village? If that were true, how was Rosie in a meeting? Could the information she had gotten about the Harper family be false?

She glanced around, noting the semi-private booths by the windows. The occupants were hidden from view, but the soft murmur of conversation trickled through the air.

Soon, the waitress wheeled over a cart, and in moments, the table was filled with beautifully plated dishes-small portions, but meticulously crafted.

Meanwhile, in one of the semi-private booths, three women sat around a table, their table adorned with steak and orange juice. A woman in a white dress set her phone down, a faint smile curving her lips. "So? What do you think?"

This was Rosie Harper. She was actually Brenna's cousin. But she was raised by Brenna's parents after her own parents had passed away. Brenna's parents treated her like she was their daughter.

Sitting across from her were her friends, Sylvie Higgins and Vivian Morrison, both from prominent families. Their outfits were impeccable, their makeup flawless, their table manners practiced to perfection. The three had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything.

Sylvie tilted her head. "Her face is decent, but her fashion sense is a disaster," she remarked, snapping a few photos. She then arranged them into a collage.

The centerpiece of the collage was a photo of Brenna eating, her face blurred out. Sylvie soon posted the photos. The caption read, "Flavor Restaurant, spotted a beauty."

Vivian casually liked the post before saying, "She's got a bit of a wild look."

Then, with a teasing smirk, she cast a sideways glance at Rosie and added, "Ethan might find that appealing."

Rosie's smile faltered. The last thing she wanted was for her fiancé to take an interest in Brenna. The marriage agreement between the Mitchell and Harper families required a Harper member to marry the son of the Mitchell family-but it had never specified who.

She shot Vivian a warning look. "Don't say things like that."

Sylvie leaned in, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Vivian's got a point. Brenna's got the kind of figure men tend to notice. Imagine Ethan's reaction if he saw her like this."

Rosie scowled as she responded, "It doesn't matter how pretty she is or what kind of figure she has. After today's events, Ethan won't spare her a second glance."

The three shared a quiet laugh. Sylvie's eyes flicked toward Brenna's table, where most of the food had already been eaten. "She's got quite the appetite," she remarked. "Maybe the Barretts didn't feed her well? Just look at the way she's devouring everything-it's obvious she has never had gourmet dining before."