Transferred to another life

**Chapter Forty: Suspicion Rising**

The dining room had descended into chaos. Matthew writhed on the floor, gasping and clutching his head as if trying to tear away from some invisible force. His screams of terror filled the room, shaking the entire family. Clara and Aunt Beatrice hovered over him, their voices trembling with concern.

"Matthew! Matthew, what's wrong?" Clara cried, shaking him gently, trying to snap him out of whatever madness had overtaken him.

Charles stood back, his face lined with shock and suspicion, while Olivia remained seated at the table, her eyes wide and filled with well-practiced concern. She made sure her hands trembled ever so slightly, as though she were genuinely frightened by what was happening to her brother.

"Matthew!" she exclaimed, standing up abruptly. "What's happening to him? Someone, help him!"

Her voice was pitched just right—a perfect balance of fear and helplessness. Inside, Olivia felt a strange mixture of exhilaration and satisfaction. Watching Matthew fall apart had been more satisfying than she'd anticipated. But she knew better than to celebrate openly. The family still needed to see her as the victim, the wronged daughter who had nothing but sympathy for her sick, spiraling brother.

Charles, however, wasn't so easily convinced. His eyes flicked toward Olivia, sharp with suspicion, as if something about the entire situation didn't sit right with him. He had always been the most perceptive, the hardest to deceive.

"What in the world is happening to him?" Aunt Beatrice muttered, her voice shaking as she tried to soothe Matthew's thrashing. "He was fine just moments ago!"

"I don't know," Olivia said quickly, stepping toward them with a furrowed brow. "Maybe it's an illness or something. But I swear, I had no idea—"

"Had no idea about what?" Charles interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't looking at Matthew anymore. He was looking directly at her.

Olivia froze for a split second but quickly composed herself. "I—I mean, I don't know what's happening to him. I've never seen Matthew like this. He seemed fine last night." She moved closer, kneeling beside him, even placing her hand on his shoulder as he groaned in confusion, as though she truly cared.

Her father's gaze hardened. "You've never seen him like this," he echoed quietly. His voice was low, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "And yet, it's happened right after everything that went on yesterday. Right after all that commotion about you."

Aunt Beatrice and Clara exchanged wary glances, and Olivia could feel the shift in the room. The family had rallied behind Matthew after last night's dinner, turning against her without a second thought. Now, with him collapsed on the floor, they were looking for someone to blame.

Olivia forced herself to appear calm, even as her pulse quickened. "What are you suggesting, Father?" she asked softly, keeping her voice steady. "You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this."

Clara's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's strange, though, isn't it? That this is happening now? After everything Matthew said about you..."

Olivia's stomach twisted with anger, but she couldn't let them see that. She kept her expression innocent, her eyes widening slightly as if in disbelief. "You can't seriously think I would do something to Matthew!" she exclaimed, glancing at each of them in turn. "He's my brother!"

Charles wasn't convinced. He straightened up, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, and looked at her with cold, calculating eyes. "Matthew accused you of hiding things from the family. He brought that up last night. And now, the very next morning, he's fallen ill in a way that makes no sense."

"Father," Olivia said, her voice trembling just enough, "I wouldn't hurt Matthew. I wouldn't hurt anyone! I don't know what's happening to him. He's clearly sick, but that's not my fault!"

But the air had changed. Aunt Beatrice's expression had shifted from concern for Matthew to a wary, skeptical glance at Olivia. Clara, always quick to judge, stepped closer to Charles, aligning herself with him.

"Father's right," Clara said slowly, her voice hard. "This is too much of a coincidence. What if... what if Olivia *did* do something?"

Olivia's heart raced. *They're turning on me.* She had anticipated that suspicion might eventually fall on her, but not this quickly. The satisfaction she had felt watching Matthew suffer began to fade, replaced by the cold reality of how precarious her situation was.

"You've been acting strange for a while now, Olivia," Aunt Beatrice added cautiously, her voice filled with a hint of accusation. "All those late nights, all the secrets. Maybe you're not as innocent as you claim to be."

Olivia fought to keep her expression composed, even as the walls closed in around her. "I haven't done anything wrong!" she insisted, her voice rising in frustration. "I've been dealing with my own issues, yes, but I wouldn't—"

"Enough." Charles' voice was a low growl. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get Matthew medical attention. Something's seriously wrong with him."

He bent down to help lift Matthew, but as he did, his eyes never left Olivia. There was no warmth in his gaze, only suspicion.

The others moved to help as well, but Olivia remained standing, frozen in place. She could feel their accusations, their distrust, pressing down on her like a weight.

*This is just the beginning*, she realized, her thoughts racing. *They're going to come for me next.*

And yet, despite the rising panic, Olivia knew she couldn't back down now. She couldn't let them see her fear. She had come too far to be undone by their suspicions.

As they carried Matthew from the room, Olivia forced herself to follow, her face still set in a mask of concern. But deep down, she knew that this was no longer just a battle between her and Matthew.

It was her against the entire family now.

And if they thought they could turn her into the villain—she would show them how dangerous that choice could be.