Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Why’s he been so stressed?” I asked as casually as I could.
“The usual stuff. Pharma whatever business.” She took another bite, chewed, swallowed. “Honestly, I don’t pay attention to his job. I’m neck-deep in legal precedent to even think about feeding myself, which is why we’re here and not at, like, a real restaurant.”
I laughed and gestured around at the communal tables. “What, this isn’t nice?”
“Nicer than you’d get at most colleges, that’s for sure.”
We laughed and she asked me questions about my studies, which I dodged as best I could since I had no clue what I wanted to do, and she seemed curious about what my life was like growing up. I told her as much as I could without seeming like a total privileged rich kid, and thought I did pretty good until she put her fork down and leaned forward.
“Just how loaded are you people, anyway? You just mentioned a private chef, a cleaning staff, and a gardening staff as if that’s no big deal.”
I flushed, looking away. “People don’t have staff?”
“People don’t have staff.”
“Okay, look, we’re comfortable. How much did your dad tell you about us?”
“Not much, honestly. Just like I said. He mentioned your mom ran away and married someone rich. I guess I didn’t realize he was stupidly rich.”
She had no idea, and I chose not to elaborate.
“How come your dad never mentioned more about us?”
She seemed thoughtful. “I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about growing up much. I think his father was—” She stopped herself. “How much do you know?”
“I know Granddad wasn’t the nicest man in the world,” I said softly, leaning forward.
This was what I’d come here for. I needed to know what she’d been told so I could start piecing the story together from his perspective.
“No, he wasn’t. Dad only talked about him a few times, and only after I asked a whole bunch. Apparently, Granddad was abusive and scary.”
“I can’t imagine,” I lied, since that sounded just like my own father. “Do you think that’s why my mom ran away?”
She shrugged. “I have no clue. My understanding is she left after granddad died, so that wouldn’t make sense, right? If he was dead, why leave?”
“I really don’t know. I’ve asked, but she won’t talk about it.”
“Seems like something went on in that house.”
I nodded slowly, wondering if she was beginning to piece this together. Laurel was smart, but she loved her father, and I didn’t know if she thought he was capable of something as terrible as murder.
“I asked my mom a few times. She never wanted to go into details, even when I pushed her. I guess I’m more than a little curious. I want to learn about my roots.”
“I wish I could tell you more, but I have no clue. Dad runs the company, but that’s about it. From what I can tell, Granddad’s generation is either dead or retired and gone.”
I was disappointed. I wanted to learn more from her, but she moved the subject away from dark family secrets, and onto more neutral things, like our lives and our favorite shows and hobbies. It was nice to talk to her, good to have a cousin, but I wanted more from her. I wanted the truth, wanted the past, all the gory, rotten secrets that’d been kept hidden away for three decades.
We finished lunch and stepped outside. It was a comfortable day, and we lingered on the sidewalk out front.
“Well, I’ve got a class in—” She looked at her phone and cursed. “Five minutes. I need to run.”
“Okay, thanks for eating with me. We should do it again.”
“We will. I’m really happy you stalked me down.” She gave me a quick hug and trotted off at a fast jog.
I watched her go, frowning to myself.
Laurel seemed so normal. Her life seemed so boring. She was the daughter of a man that ran a struggling pharma company, and from my perspective, there was nothing else going on.
But her dad knew something. Maybe she didn’t have any clue, but I had to find out what. She might be a good way into his world.
“You look like you want to chase her down and strangle her.”
I jumped at the voice and turned. Nervosa stood nearby, leaning against a light pole. He studied me with a tight smile, like he was trying to hold back his amusement.
“How long have you been lurking there?”
“Since you came out.”
“Following me now?”
“Yes.”
“You’re supposed to deny it, psycho.” I stormed off and he followed.
“How are things with your cousin? Going well?”
“She’s nice,” I admitted, even though I didn’t want to have this conversation with him. “But she doesn’t know much about our family.”
He grabbed my wrist and held it. “What are you looking for, Melanie? What happened?”
I stopped and pulled myself away. “Don’t act like you care.”