‘We can do this another time. Let’s wait until you’re feeling better,’ I pleasantly and sympathetically offered. I didn’t need to know how rich I was going to be right that second. It could wait. Mr. Callaway opened the manila folder and pulled out a picture. I frowned, looking at the dark haired girl, maybe sixteen years old. Moving my eyes to his, I waited for an explanation.”
The picture was me, I was sure of it before Drew even said so. I wonder where it is now.
“Then Callaway stunned me with his words, ‘This is my granddaughter,’ he said, smiling at the girl in the photo,” Drew said while turning to smile at me.
I smiled back with an increase speed of my heart.
“I told Callaway, ‘Granddaughter? I think you need to rest.’ I knew he didn’t have a granddaughter. He had one son, Michael, and he was dead. I was sure the old fucktard was delusional.
‘I wanted to tell you a few days ago. Things have been a little crazy around here this past week. Michael told me about her the day he passed. He’s never taken care of her. Look how she’s been forced to live,’ he said, sliding the photos clumsily to the side.
I grimaced, inspecting the photos of the girl who looked like welfare scum. She was welfare scum. Somebody was after his money, my money, it was all a scam.”
“I am not welfare scum,” I had to spit out.
“I know you’re not, love. I’m telling a story from eleven years ago, okay?”
“Okay, sorry,” I apologized, trying to tell myself how long ago this was, and he was only describing how he saw things. I needed to calm down and let him talk.
Drew began again, “So I told Mr. Callaway, ‘With all due respect, I think this is some sort of a hoax. I’ve lived with Michael since I was twelve. We’ve worked side by side for the past ten years. I’m sure I would have known this.’
She’s his. He was sure. His thumb brushed over the girls face while the expression on his own looked sorry, or upset that she was there,” Drew explained like he was talking about someone other than me, or like I wasn’t even there.
“Callaway was adamant. ‘Look at her hair. Look how there are no curls except at the bottom. That’s a Callaway trait. Look at her eyes. Those are Callaway eyes,’ he said.” Drew sternly mimicked Mr. Callaway.
I smiled at his acting ability.
Drew continued, “I thought it was absurd. So what if the girl had green eyes. Lots of people had green eyes. ‘Where did you get these photos?’ I wanted to know.
‘I sent Walker there to get them for me. I wanted you to go, but after a series of unfortunate events, I sent him. You’re going there now.’
Confused, I asked him, ‘Going where?’
‘You’re going to West Virginia, I want her mother to go away.’
I was sure his stroke had gone straight to his head. He was insane. I wasn’t going to West Virginia.” Drew laughed a little recollecting that day. “Shocked, I hesitantly asked, ‘You want me to kill the mother?’
‘No, I don’t want you to kill anyone. I want you to offer her money. See this? This is her little brother. He doesn’t belong to Michael, but I’m willing to take him too. I would feel horrible for leaving the boy in that situation.’
I looked down at the little boy maybe four of five years old. Nothing, I wasn’t feeling the sorrow for the family that he was feeling. I wasn’t going anywhere near that place.”
The mention of Justin made my chest heavy, causing me to hate Drew—again. He could have taken him. Justin could have lived at the mansion with me. Pulling my thoughts away from my little brother, I turned back to Drew, continuing to relive that time in his life.
“Callaway began telling me, ‘Her name’s Morgan. Isn’t that a lovely name?’ he asked with some sort of nostalgic smile, gazing down at the girl in the photo like he missed her or something. He didn’t even fucking know her. I felt like I needed to sit down.”
“Drew, you’re talking about me. Stop saying that girl,” I demanded, getting angry. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the nostalgia that I now felt with the mentioning of Justin, and him calling me that girl, was pissing me off. I was sitting right there.
“You were that girl then. Do you want me to stop?”
“No, go ahead,” I pouted with a wave of my hand for him to continue.
Drew continued in Callaway’s voice again, “I informed Callaway that this lady was not going to sell her kids. ‘This is absurd. She’s probably just after your money. Stay away from them,’ I ordered, sure that someone was playing a dirty trick on him, wanting my money.”