Celebration

I felt like a part of a murder mystery book. The big question being ‘Who murdered the VIP guest?” or, in our case, ‘Who took the envelope holding the evidence of Mrs. Sinclair’s unfaithfulness?’ If mysteriously staring at walls had provided answers, we were on the right track.  
“Frank.” I tugged on his shirt. “Say something. Since it was your idea to place the envelope unguarded on Mr. Sinclair’s idea, you must have also thought about what you would do if it fell into the wrong hands.” 
Frank treated that as a trivial mistake with a hand gesture. “Nah. Why would I guard it? You’re overthinking it. It’s not like that envelope contains our darkest secrets. Relax. Whoever found it can keep it. We have better things to worry about in this hellhole. 
I wouldn’t say I liked how Frank brushed it off like that envelope wouldn’t change the fate of the family he worked for. However, we were out of options. No matter how much it would disturb my sleep cycle, I had to let it go. Some mysteries are better left unsolved, especially when you have played a part in it and have no visible means of doing something about it.  
“Come.” Frank put an arm around my shoulders. “I have champagne in my room. Let’s celebrate while the Sinclair family fights each other to death. The only time I breathe is when Nathan is busy elsewhere.” 
My mind hadn’t rested since my arrival on the Sinclair estate. I allowed Frank to lead me to his room to catch a break from the chaos of the Sinclair family. The constant worrying about how I was going to impress Nathan and safeguard the unmentionable secrets of his mother had begun to take a toll on my mental health. My job in that majestic mansion was much more difficult than described. Still, nothing could compare to the horror I felt every night, knowing that the mafia could come any time to rape and slaughter me in my home. 
Each time I closed my eyes and relived that spine-chilling fear, I felt grateful to be alive and safe in a place that was no less than a fortress. Even if I told Frank my tragic story, he would never fully understand why I take the Sinclair family’s side.  
Frank’s room was basic and extremely tidy. Here, I am not using the word basic to insult his taste. His room literally had three pieces of furniture. It included a bed, one couch, and a cupboard. That poor guy didn’t even have a nightstand.  
“You’re probably wondering why I am being treated like a slave in this gigantic mansion with infinite rooms all lavishly furnished and decorated.” Frank stole the words from my mouth. 
I nodded. “It’s quite unfair. I don’t see a mirror anywhere. How are you living like this?” 
Frank took a deep breath. A painful story was coming ahead. “Live with Nathan for a while. I’ll be surprised if he lets you sleep on his bedroom floor. Forget about ever making it to the bed.” He gestured for me to stop. “Sex doesn’t count. That’s worse. In a sense, you only warm his bed for his physical needs.” 
I gaped in disbelief. “You’re one to talk. He took furniture from you. If you are calling me his whore, you are his bitch.” 
“This is getting ugly. Let’s return to feeling bad for each other,” Frank suggested.  
“No. Why did Nathan take furniture from you? What kind of punishment is this? I thought you never disobeyed or talked back to him.” 
Frank stared at his shoes. “It is a punishment. He is punishing me for being too obedient. He took away my vanity table and mirror. So, I would stop obsessing over my looks and focus on taking care of his needs. The nightstands disappeared during the night, and I am still not sure why he did that. He doesn’t always like to give explanations.” 
“This is horrible, Frank. You should stand up for yourself,” I said.  
“No. There is no point. Let him have his way with me. I know half of the cruel things he does to me are for entertainment. Who would entertain the rich if not us peasants?” Frank turned to his side, covering his face. Was he hiding his tears? 
“Frank.” I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I will help you stand up to him. It is unacceptable. Are you even getting paid enough for this job?” 
“Why would I need to stand up to him when you are on my side!” Frank’s tone changed in less than a second. “And why would I stay in this wretched job if it didn’t give me more money than any other job of my competency? Now, before you say you can choose between money and freedom. I choose money. We are nothing without it. You wouldn’t have gotten engaged to Nathan if it weren’t for the money. Now, would have you?” 
“Frank, you are being unnecessarily mean to me again,” I complained.  
“Sorry. Come, sit. We came here to my den of solitude and misery to drink away our sorrows and celebrate a minor success,” said Frank, slowly walking backward to his bed. He sat on his bed with a huge smile and appeared confused the next moment. He moved his butt as if he were experiencing some discomfort.  
“What happened?” I inquired.  
“There is something crunchy underneath me,” said Frank. That’s when I noticed the sound. It sounded like paper. 
Frank got up, and it was indeed paper, somewhat crumbled and torn from coming under his jiggly booty.  
He straightened the paper and had a look at it. I watched his eyes move along the lines. Something was written on it. His expression intensified with each passing second, and eventually, he dropped it on the ground.  
“Holy cow!” Frank screamed, running backward. He hit the wall and spread his arms, clinging onto it. What was that for? It seemed like he was trying to save himself by hugging the wall. 
What was written on that paper? Did Frank have any secrets of his own? I bent over to pick it up from the ground, and once I read its contents, I had a worse reaction than him.