Chapter 199

Harrison felt like she was standing at the pinnacle of her life, surrounded by the dazzling achievements of her two most beloved granddaughters.

Isabella and Penelope, the twin jewels of the Whitmore family, both wore expressions of triumph that could light up the room.

The entire household buzzed with excitement, their joy palpable in every corner.

Standing silently by the grand staircase, Harrison observed the opulent Whitmore family gathering. She had always been an outsider here, never truly belonging. The only connection she had to this family was through her late father, whose memory had long faded from their collective consciousness.

A sudden prickling sensation made her look up. Nathaniel's intense gaze was fixed on her.

Why was he watching her so intently?

Tonight, he stood proudly beside Isabella, his presence a silent declaration of support.

It was as if everyone had forgotten she was still Mrs. Falcon.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

Harrison averted her eyes.

"Now that we're all assembled, Mr. Falcon, Dr. Sinclair, shall we proceed to dinner?" Margaret announced with practiced grace.

The dining table groaned under the weight of exquisite dishes and rare vintages. Guests began taking their prearranged seats.

Margaret naturally occupied the head of the table. Nathaniel, Isabella, Theodore, and Victoria sat to her left, while Dr. Sinclair, Penelope, Frederick, and Cassandra took the right. The picture-perfect family tableau was complete.

Harrison realized with quiet amusement that no place had been set for her.

Penelope had extended the dinner invitation, yet conveniently forgotten to include her in the seating plan.

"Oh dear," Penelope feigned surprise, her voice dripping with false concern. "Harrison, it seems we've overlooked your seat."

Every head turned toward Harrison, their expressions ranging from indifference to barely concealed disdain.

Margaret sighed impatiently. "The seating was arranged in advance. Harrison, you may dine with the staff in the kitchen."

Victoria, still smarting from Theodore's public rebuke weeks ago, offered a venomous smile. "Or perhaps we could squeeze in a small table for you in the corner?"

The blatant humiliation hung thick in the air, the entire room waiting for Harrison's reaction.

Dr. Sinclair studied Harrison with mild curiosity. "And who might this be?"

Penelope waved a dismissive hand. "Just household help."

The deliberate insult landed like a slap. This entire charade was Penelope's revenge for Harrison witnessing her academic disgrace at the National Medical Gallery.

Isabella shot Harrison a contemptuous glance, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

Harrison remained composed, her clear eyes calmly surveying the assembled guests. A faint, enigmatic smile played on her lips. "No matter. Since there's no place for me here, I'll decline the invitation."

She turned to Dr. Sinclair. "Actually, I only returned tonight to meet you."

Margaret scoffed. "How fortunate for you that Penelope's accomplishments allow you such privileges."

Dr. Sinclair squeezed Penelope's hand affectionately, earning a simpering smile in return.

Harrison's voice remained steady. "Just one word of caution. Since no one here has actually met Dr. Sinclair before, you might want to verify his credentials."

The room went deathly silent.

Fraud?

What was she implying?

Dr. Sinclair's eyes flickered with unease. Had this woman uncovered something?

Impossible. His plan was flawless.

Without another word, Harrison turned and walked away.

As the door closed behind her, Margaret muttered, "What nonsense is she spouting? Suggesting Dr. Sinclair is an imposter?"

Penelope immediately jumped to his defense. Every document checked out. This was undoubtedly the real Dr. Sinclair!