CHAPTER SEVEN

A Murder Occurs

It was a beautiful morning in May. Henry and I had just come back from a long walk in the country. On the table in our house, there was a letter from my father. I wondered what he was writing about, because I was going to visit my family soon, after many years away. "Can't he wait until he sees me, to talk to me about it?" I thought.

Quickly, I opened the letter and read these words.

Geneva, May 12

My son,

It is with great sadness and pain that I tell you: you must come home now. But first, I must tell you what has happened here. Sit down in a chair before you read my next words. Your little brother, William, is dead. My happy young boy has been murdered. Victor, I will not try to comfort you. I will only tell you what happened.

Last Thursday in the evening; your two brothers, Elizabeth, and I went for a walk in the forest of Plainpalais. You loved to run and play here when you were a child. On that evening, William and Ernest were far away from Elizabeth and I, playing games. It began to get dark, and Elizabeth and I sat down to wait for the boys. Soon, Ernest came to us and asked if we had seen William. Ernest told us that William had gone to hide, but he had not returned. Immediately, Elizabeth and I began to look for William. But we had not found him after three hours of searching. Elizabeth ran home to tell the servants to look for William around the house. At five o'clock in the morning, I finally found him. His cold, dead body was lying on the grass, and there were black finger marks on his throat! I carried him home and put him on his bed. When Elizabeth ran into the room and saw him, she screamed out, "Oh, my God! I have killed my darling William ... " and she fainted onto the floor. When we woke her up, she told me that yesterday, William had asked to wear Elizabeth's necklace. The necklace was a beautiful gold one. Elizabeth couldn't say no to William. But when she saw William's body, there was no necklace around his neck. Elizabeth thought someone had killed William because they wanted the necklace.

We have not found the murderer yet. Elizabeth blames herself for William's death, and cannot stop crying. We need you to come home, Victor. Not to find the killer, but to comfort our sad hearts.

Your loving father

Alphonse Frankenstein

I threw the letter across the room, covered my face with my hands, and began to cry.

Henry ran into the room and asked me, "My dear friend, what has happened?" I couldn't speak; I could only point to the letter lying on the floor. As Henry read the letter, he cried out in pain, and tears fell from his eyes.

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