— You’re the beggar from earlier, aren’t you? I’m Margaret, Emily’s stepmother, she said, her voice a mix of disdain and forced warmth.
Caleb stood, wary but curious.
— Yeah, that’s me. Name’s Caleb. What do you want, ma’am? he asked, his voice rough from disuse.
— I have an offer for you, one that could change your life, Margaret said, a calculated smile spreading across her face.
She laid out her plan—an arranged marriage with Emily in exchange for a life of wealth and comfort. Caleb listened, his eyes widening with each word.
— You’re asking me to marry your stepdaughter, the woman who helped me today, for money? he asked, incredulous.
Margaret nodded, her smile unwavering.
— Think about it, Caleb. No more worrying about food or shelter. You’d have everything you’ve ever wanted, she said, her voice smooth and enticing.
— I can’t do that. I won’t use someone like her, especially not someone who showed me kindness, Caleb said, shaking his head firmly.
Margaret’s eyes flashed with irritation, but she shifted tactics.
— Think of the possibilities, Caleb. With that money, you could help others—your friends on the streets, those who go hungry every day, she said, her tone low and persuasive.
Caleb hesitated, his fists clenching as he pictured his companions, desperate and starving.
— I could make a difference, he murmured, more to himself than to Margaret.
— Imagine how many lives you could change. Isn’t that what Emily would want? To use resources for good? Margaret pressed, sensing his wavering resolve.
Caleb’s gaze drifted to Margaret’s coat, landing on a silver brooch shaped like a crescent moon entwined with ivy. Something about it stirred a faint memory, a fragment from a long-lost past. He reached out instinctively, nearly touching it.
— That brooch… I’ve seen it before, he whispered, his voice trembling with sudden emotion.
Margaret stepped back, startled.
— It’s just an old family trinket, nothing special, she said quickly, her hand covering the brooch protectively.
— No, I’m sure of it. I remember a woman wearing it, humming a lullaby, Caleb thought, grappling with hazy childhood memories.
— Shall we go? This decision could help so many, Caleb, Margaret urged, gesturing for him to follow.
He nodded, still shaken. Turning to his street companions, he made a promise.
— I’ll be back, guys. I’ll find a way to help you all, he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Inside Margaret’s sleek car, the scent of leather overwhelming, Caleb couldn’t shake the brooch’s familiarity or the surreal nature of her proposal.
— I hope I’m doing the right thing. If this can help others, maybe it’s worth it, he murmured, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee.
The car glided through the townhouse gates, the grand building looming ahead. Caleb stared in awe, feeling utterly out of place. Emily, reading by her window, heard the car and glanced out, her eyes widening as she saw Caleb step out, nervous in his tattered clothes.
— What’s going on? Why did Margaret bring him here? This can’t be good, she whispered, her heart racing with unease.
Margaret led Caleb inside, casting a pointed look at Emily watching from above.
— Wait here, she instructed Caleb, leaving him in the opulent foyer.
She climbed the stairs and knocked on Emily’s door, entering without waiting.
— Emily, dear, we need to talk, she said, her tone falsely sweet.
Emily turned, confusion and fear in her eyes.
— Margaret, what’s happening? Why is that man here? she asked, her voice unsteady.
— All will be clear soon, dear. Sit down. We have much to discuss, Margaret replied, gesturing to the bed.
Emily sat reluctantly, her gaze locked on Margaret, who began pacing, her heels clicking on the hardwood.
— Emily, your obsession with helping the downtrodden is troubling. Your father and I have decided it’s time you learned a lesson about the real world, Margaret said, her voice dripping with mock concern.
Emily’s stomach knotted.
— What are you talking about? she asked, dreading the answer.
— Consequences, dear. And a marriage, Margaret said, a cold smile forming.
Emily shot to her feet, her hands trembling.
— Marriage? What marriage? she demanded, her voice rising.
Margaret stopped pacing, facing her directly.
— You’re going to marry the beggar downstairs, Caleb, the one you were so eager to help, she said, relishing each word.
Emily’s face paled.
— This is insane. You can’t be serious, she shouted, her voice echoing.
— Oh, I’m very serious. And before you refuse, let me explain the consequences of defying me, Margaret threatened, her voice a low hiss.
Emily sank back onto the bed, her mind reeling.
— I just helped someone in need. What did I do wrong? You can’t force me into this. It’s illegal. It’s wrong, she argued, tears brimming in her eyes.
Margaret leaned close, her face inches from Emily’s.
— I can, and I will, unless you want your new friend to face serious charges. It’d be a shame if the police found something incriminating on him, wouldn’t it? she said, her words venomous.
— You wouldn’t. He’s innocent. He’s got nothing to do with this, Emily stammered, fear gripping her.
— Why are you doing this, Margaret? What do you gain?
Margaret straightened, her smile icy.
— What I gain, Emily, is a stepdaughter who finally knows her place in this family and society. You’ll learn that not everyone you help deserves your compassion.
Emily’s gaze drifted to the window, the thought of Caleb suffering because of her unbearable.
— If I agree, what happens to Caleb? she asked, her voice barely audible.
— He’ll have a comfortable life off the streets, and you’ll learn a lesson about the real world, Margaret replied, her tone falsely warm.
Caleb was led to a lavish bathroom, his eyes widening at the marble tub and neatly arranged toiletries.
— Everything you need is here, the butler said, gesturing to plush towels and grooming supplies.
Caleb nodded, still dazed. Alone, he turned on the faucet, watching hot water fill the tub.
— How long’s it been since I had a proper bath? he murmured, peeling off his ragged clothes.
— Will this grime ever come off? Do I even remember how to do this?
Stepping into the warm water, Caleb sighed with relief. Years of dirt dissolved as he scrubbed with a soft sponge and fragrant soap. He dunked his head, washing his hair repeatedly until the water turned murky, a testament to his time on the streets.
He lingered until the water cooled, savoring the sensation.
— It’s like being reborn, he whispered, marveling at his clean skin.
— Who knew a bath could make you feel human again?
Wrapped in a towel, Caleb faced his overgrown beard in the mirror. With trembling hands, he applied shaving cream and began to shave, each stroke revealing a face he barely recognized.
— My God, is that me? he murmured, touching his smooth cheeks.
— It’s like meeting a stranger from another life.
Dressed in tailored clothes left for him, Caleb felt like a fraud. The soft fabric was foreign compared to his usual rags. He adjusted the shirt collar, uneasy with the fit. Looking in the mirror, he took a deep breath.
— You can do this. With this chance, you can help so many, he told his reflection, trying to bolster his resolve.
Descending the grand staircase, Caleb felt every eye on him. Emily, at the bottom, gasped softly.
— Caleb, I almost didn’t recognize you, she whispered, her voice tinged with awe.
Margaret appeared, her gaze dismissive.
— Well, you cleaned up nicely, at least, she said, her tone falsely bright.
Caleb nodded, wordless. As they moved to the dining room, he caught Emily’s lingering look.
— What’s she thinking? Why’s she staring like that? he wondered, feeling exposed in a way the streets never had.
Days passed in a whirlwind of preparations and mounting tension. In a high-end salon, Emily sat before a mirror, her elaborate bridal hairstyle taking shape. Her hazel eyes, though heavy with sadness, held a quiet resolve. Clutching the white dress in her lap, she thought of Caleb and his remarkable transformation.
— He must feel as lost as I do. Maybe this marriage is a chance to truly help him, to make the impact I’ve always wanted, she murmured, a faint smile forming.
The hairstylist, noticing her pensive look, tried to lighten the mood.
— Excited for the big day, miss? she asked softly.
Emily paused before answering.
— It’s complicated, but I’m determined to make it work, she said, meeting the stylist’s eyes in the mirror.
Her thoughts drifted to the moments she’d shared with Caleb—tentative conversations, shy smiles, the gratitude in his eyes.
— He deserves a chance to rebuild, and maybe together we can find purpose in this, she reflected.
As the stylist finished, Emily overheard two staff members whispering nearby.
— That’s Margaret’s stepdaughter. Remember the rumors about her stepmother? one said.
The other nodded.
— How could I forget? They say she was tied to something shady, though nothing was proven.
The women fell silent when they noticed Emily’s gaze, retreating with guilty looks. Emily’s heart raced.
— Something shady? What’s Margaret hiding? She claims she loves our family, but she acts like she despises me, Emily thought, her mind spinning.
The whispers fueled her suspicions about Margaret’s secretive past. There was a mystery here, and Emily vowed to unravel it. At the salon window, her reflection showed not just a bride, but a woman with a mission.
— I’ll find the truth. If Margaret’s hiding something, I’ll expose it, she promised herself, her expression resolute.
Hours later, the afternoon sun illuminated a grand cathedral as luxury cars arrived. Caleb, in a suit that still felt alien, stood nervously at the entrance. High-society guests stepped out, their judgmental eyes and whispers cutting into him.
— How did I end up here? Why do they look at me like I’m filth? Does Emily feel the same? he murmured, adjusting his tie anxiously, searching for a friendly face.
An older couple passed, the woman’s face twisting in disgust.
— Dear, did you hear? Margaret said he was a street rat until last week. Poor Emily, what a disgrace, she whispered loudly.
Her husband nodded, sneering at Caleb.
— They say it’s aರ
System: a punishment, but to humiliate the family like this?
Caleb’s stomach churned, the reality of his situation hitting like a blow.
— So that’s it. I’m just a pawn to shame Emily, he thought, anger and humiliation swirling within him.
More guests arrived, their murmurs and stares intensifying his unease. He spotted Margaret from a distance, her fake smile and triumphant glances fueling his anger. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to confront her.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, startling him. It was Henry, Emily’s father, his eyes heavy with guilt and sorrow.
— Caleb, I’m so sorry for all this, he murmured, barely audible before slipping back into the crowd.
— Even her father’s caught in this twisted game, Caleb reflected, his mind racing.
An elderly man with an ornate cane approached, his eyes widening with shock and recognition as he studied Caleb’s face.
— It can’t be, he muttered, staring intently.
Caleb felt a spark of hope, thinking this man might see beyond his past. The man glanced around nervously before leaning closer.
— Young man, I need to speak with you privately. It’s urgent, he whispered, his voice trembling.
Caleb, intrigued and uneasy, nodded slowly.
— Of course, sir, but… why? Is something wrong? he asked quietly.
— Not here. Meet me behind the cathedral in five minutes. There’s something you need to know, the man said, hurrying off.
Caleb’s heart pounded, the puzzle pieces shifting in his mind, forming a disturbing picture.
— What’s going on? Who is this guy, and what does he know? he wondered, his thoughts spinning.