Trevor releases a loud laugh from across the foyer, and I jump. “Told you,” he tells Fallon. “She’s a tough one.”
“She’ll need to be,” Fallon replies and motions with his hand for me to follow. “Please,” he says again when I don’t make a move. I beam a sarcastic smile at him.
Fallon and Trevor lead me into what looks like a study, or a very large office, where a lawyer and a doctor are waiting. The doctor takes the mouth swab to test my DNA and the lawyer has me sign a release form. By the weekend, we should get the results back. No more than five minutes pass and everything is signed and sealed.
“Alrighty then. Guess I’ll check on Butch since I promised to help him with his math homework.” Then I need to head on to the public library. Tonight is one of two nights during the school week where I don’t have to work, so I try and cram in as much studying as possible during those evenings.
Two sets of bright blue eyes watch me from across the room and I start to fidget.
“Trevor, give us a minute. I want to talk to Aurora.”
Trevor offers me an encouraging pat to the shoulder as he walks by. Once he’s left the room, the silence is overwhelming.
Fallon takes a stick of gum out of his pocket and pops it into his mouth. “I’m sorry about what happened to your mom.”
“I’m not.” That seems to interest him.
“And your friend,” he continues, taking a seat behind the expansive oak desk.
“Thank you. Cam was my best friend, but I’m sure whatever private investigator or lawyer you paid loads of money to for that background check I’m pretty certain you had done on me, would have already told you that.”
I walk around the study, intrigued by all the knick-knacks and books. When I first entered the house, I was immediately greeted with the smell of something floral. I couldn’t put a name to it until now. I notice a tall vase on Fallon’s desk that has cuttings of jasmine vines spilling out of it. The tiny, white flowers with the spoked pedals look like miniature pinwheels.
“I thought I recognized this fragrance when I walked in,” I tell him as I touch one of the viny tendrils.
Fallon studies the plant for a second. “It reminds me of someone,” he somberly states, and I’m smart enough to know better than to ask who.
Running my hand along a middle shelf of the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, I pull a copy ofThe Art of Warout and casually flip through it.
“Your sister, Angelica—what’s her story?” he asks me.
“She’s a bitch. I guess it’s safe to say that she and I are only half-sisters?”
“That’s a safe assumption. The deadbeat that abandoned you both was her sperm donor, not yours.”
“Figures. Everybody leaves,” I mumble.
“I won’t. Trevor won’t.”
I look up from the book and snap it shut. “You can’t guarantee that, Fallon.”
“You’re right. I’m actually leaving next week. Setting up some stuff overseas. Trevor is going to hold down the fort at Montgomery Pharma in my absence.”
“Told you,” I reply, repeating the same words Trevor used. I resume my pacing.
“I would love to tell you that Phillip was a good father. Maybe have some nice words to placate you with since you never met the man. But he wasn’t, and I won’t. Phillip was an abusive son of a bitch that deserved to die. You’re lucky that you never had to grow up in the same house as him.”
“That’s little comfort, Fallon, since I grew up in a homeexactlylike that. At least living here, I would have had three square meals a day and hot water.”
“Trust me. If you knew what happened under this roof, you would think differently.”
“Then why stay here? Why not leave and start over someplace else?”
“My friends are here. Trevor is here. Besides, I want to right the wrongs of our father. Hence why Trevor and I went looking for you; why we’re trying to find the others.”
I give a derisive snort. “You can’t always fix things with money.”
A slow grin transforms his face from wicked to boyish. “No, but you can have a fuck-ton of fun with it. Give it to people that matter. Help those who need it.”
