Page 60 of Painted Truths

I got you, brother. I won't let you down.

Aged 11

"I told you, Lauren, you get your stipend, which isn't a small sum, mind you, and not a goddamn penny more. So what could you possibly need more money for?"

My dad's words carry across the open foyer where I've just entered, Al riding high on my shoulders, having spent the last hour chasing butterflies in the garden.

He's overtired, having woken this morning to his mother's screaming down the phone, demanding our father come home for a visit. I hate it when he hears her like that, so I've worked hard to distract him in the hours since.

"Down, Ri. I want down!"

Alex's impatient hands swat absentmindedly at the top of my head, and I chuckle before lifting him from his perch to drop him gently to his feet.

He takes off across the foyer, and I instantly know I've made a colossal mistake, but before I can reach him, he's already thrown open the door to Dad's mostly unused study at the far end of the vast open hall.

Lauren strides past us without a glance, but Alex ploughs forward, throwing his arms around our father's leg.

"I missed you, Dada!"

My stomach bottoms out when I raise my eyes to my namesakes. His face is ashen, his eyes cold, and his mouth hard.

Hope swells within my chest for a split second as I look at my little brother's light amber eyes. Eyes so like his mother's, yet filled with light and love and, as such, entirely opposite to hers. How could anyone look at him and not love him with their whole heart and soul?

Then I glance back at my father and remember his heart and soul died the day my mother did. He grasps Al's shoulders to forcibly push his youngest son away from his leg, Alex's shoulders slumping forward in defeat. His eyes fill with barely restrained tears.

"Come along, Al. Let's get some toast with honey from Iris in the kitchen."

Catching his small hand in my much bigger one, I lead him from the room until the sound of our father's voice stops me.

"Enrico. A moment, please."

Squatting down so that I'm at eye level with my baby brother, I hold both his hands in mine.

"You run on and tell Iris that Ri wants extra honey on his, okay?"

He nods once, solemnly, before doing as instructed, allowing me to stand and face our father.

He doesn't mince his words as he thrusts his hand into his pocket before holding it out to me.

"I found this in your mum's safe deposit box in an envelope marked with your name."

Brow furrowing, I gingerly pluck the item from his raised palm.

Then, without another word, he marches past me, shouting once again for my stepmother.

"Lauren, I'm leaving. You'll have the additional funds in your account by this evening."

And with that, he departs without so much as a backward glance.

As I slowly meander toward the safety of Iris' kitchen, I hold up the necklace he gave me. It's an oval silver locket devoid of decoration, and it looks to be quite old.

Upon opening the clasp, my breath stills in my throat.

Held within the confines is a photo of my mum holding a newborn me. Her face is the picture of happiness, her eyes shining with radiance, just as I'll forever remember her.

My dad may be a neglectful parent, but he's just bestowed the most beautiful gift I've received since Alex was born.

"Enrico, what are you doing?"