Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Do you think we should?”
“That’s all up to you,” she says. “But if it were me? I’d keep on it.”
“All right,” I say. “Keep on it, then. I’ll send you the information as I get it. But there’s one other thing.”
“Yeah?”
“I need you to find my parents. Felix and Stefania Locke.” I give her the address of the house in Thornton as well. “That’s the last known address, but they haven’t lived there probably for decades.”
I hear her typing on the other end. “This shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“I didn’t find them on any social media.”
“Older folks aren’t always on social media, but I’ll check it all out.” She pauses. “This shouldn’t be hard at all. I should have something for you by the end of the day.”
I shove my phone in my pocket and rise, ready to leave and go to the music store when the intercom buzzes.
I push the button. “Yeah?”
“Dragon Locke?” A voice says.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“There’s a package out here for you.”
“Okay, you can go ahead and bring it up.”
No reply.
Then I wait.
Open the door, watch the elevator.
After five minutes, it’s clear no one’s coming up. Whoever it was must’ve just left the package downstairs.
I take the elevator down, head through the lobby, and say hi to the security guard.
“Where’s my package?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. “What package?”
“Someone called on the intercom, said you guys had a package for me. I buzzed them up, but no one came.”
The security guard looks toward the door of the building. The intercom is on a brick wall next to the door.
“I didn’t see anyone.”
“Were you watching the intercom?”
He frowns. “I don’t really concern myself with people who call on the intercom. I concern myself with people who come into the building.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
I walk outside anyway, look around for a package.
Maybe it was just a prank. Some teens nearby who thought it would be funny to ring the penthouse, make the person living up there come all the way down to—
My foot hits something small. I look down.
And I gasp.
Chapter One
Dragon
Twenty-two years earlier…
Griffin and I are both so excited for Christmas. She still believes in Santa Claus, but I’m eight years old, and I know that Mommy and Daddy are really Santa Claus.
Which explains why some of my friends at school get so much more than Griffin and I do. Because their parents have more money to spend on gifts for them. I used to wonder why Santa liked other kids more than he liked Griffin and me. It wasn’t fair.
It was hard learning that Santa isn’t real, but at least now I knew he didn’t play favorites.
Griffin loves flannel pajamas—she’d wear them all the time if Mommy let her—and she loves pink. I wanted to get her something for Christmas that I knew she would love. So instead of getting her a toy or a stuffed animal or something like that, I suggested to Mommy that I get her some pajamas.
“Griffin will love that,” Mom said to me. “I’ll get Daddy to stay with her, and I’ll take you to the store on Saturday to pick out a really nice set for her.”
At Walmart, I chose the pink flannel with rainbows. They were similar to her favorites—pink flannel with blue hearts on them. I only had two dollars and twenty-nine cents to spend, but Mommy made up the rest.
I hate pink—it’s such a girly color—but Griffin loves it, and I want her to be happy. Plus, I like rainbows. Rainbows are happy.
“I want Griffin to think they came from Santa,” I say.
Mommy frowns. “Are you sure, Dragon? She would love to think her big brother got her such a wonderful gift. Plus, you used your own money.”
“You and Daddy use your own money to buy the Santa gifts,” I say.
Mommy smiles. “That’s different. We’re parents.” She leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “It’s not your job to be Santa. Not until you’re all grown up and have your own kids.”
I think for a minute. Do I want the imaginary fat man in the red suit to get the credit? “Okay. It’ll be from me.”
Mom smiles and gives me a quick hug. “She’ll love them even more since they’re from you.”
Christmas came four days later. I’m always the first one up on Christmas morning. Something inside me just knows it’s time to get up. I jump out of bed, wearing my own flannel pajamas—mine are blue with Superman on the front—and I run into Griffin’s room. She’s just starting to open her eyes.
“Griffin!” I pull on her arm. “It’s Christmas morning! It’s time to get out of bed and see if Santa was here!”
“Do you think he came, Dragon?” she asks, yawning.
I can’t help a grin. “I know he did.”
And that’s true, because Mommy and Daddy let me stay up to help put the presents under the tree.