Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Beatrix opened the bag and gasped. “Freya! There are thousands of dollars here…” She tipped the bag out, and my parents looked at me in astonishment.
“It’s savings, and money from working at Clover House. I have enough to live on for a while, so I am available for whatever,” I said. “What I mean is, I want to work to fix this. So, whatever you need, whatever hours it takes, I can do it.”
“No,” my dad said firmly. “You have your plans. You’ve worked hard these past few years, and now is your time to go and do what you want to do.”
“And your lease at your apartment is almost up, so you have to go!” said Beatrix, smiling triumphantly.
“About that. I was thinking I could have my old room here, it would save money…”
I looked at my mom, whose eyes were filling up with tears, and I felt like shit. She wouldn’t feel like that if she knew that I had spent most of the previous week in bed with the man who was probably responsible for putting us in this situation.
“Okay, we will all think on this some more,” said Beatrix, and I could tell I was in for a talking to later. “But for now, we all need to be on the same page and working together.”
“We can get through this,” smiled Dad. “I started this whole thing in the shed in the yard, and if we could build it up then, we can do it again. Especially now we have you girls to help.”
I thought back to the games Dad had made when we were children. It was board games back then, but we were his chief testers. We would spend hours in his cluttered shed, playing his games and telling him how to improve them or coming up with new ideas. I loved painting the little pieces and pretending for hours in a fantasy world of my own invention.
“Dad!” I said, suddenly struck with inspiration. “Where are all your old games?”
“Ugh,” complained Mom. “They are in the basement, but he insists that they will come out and be put on display in the studio. We have been meaning to do it for ages. You know, a kind of ‘Dynasty Games development’ thing.”
“It would look great,” Dad said, giving her a look that I had seen many times when he had a project in mind.
“Can we do it now?” I asked, standing up.
“Now?” Dad looked baffled. “Well sure… but…”
“Great, you go get them, and I will clear some space here.” I didn’t give him time to protest.
“I’ve been asking him to sort them for over a year,” Mom sighed. “it’s going to be a lot of dust.”
As Dad disappeared to find the games and Mom went to get the vacuum cleaner, Beatrix helped me clear the table, stuffing the money back into the envelope. Drew came in and sat back down at his computer with a nod to each of us.
“Where did the money come from?” she asked.
“I told you…”
“Who keeps their savings and wages in one-hundred-dollar bills?” she hissed at me.
Chapter 39
KEEGAN
CHRIS AND I ATE outside most evenings. It was a chance to cool off after a day working on the land. He was a man of few words, never asking why my plans had suddenly changed, and why I had just appeared with my backpack. I suppose he had just thought of me as some sort of rich eccentric weirdo who could afford to change my mind when I felt like it. If it bothered him, he didn’t show it. There was plenty of room for me, and having an extra pair of hands around and someone who knew how to handle horses was all he really cared about. That and the money, of course. In fact, the only time I had seen any animation in him was when the money transfer had hit his account. He had shown me his balance on his battered old desktop computer screen and I had smiled, but he had raised his hand conspiratorially.
“I don’t need to know where it comes from,” he warned. “All I need to know is it’s there.”
Even with the work on the farmstead, I couldn’t avoid my father forever. The thing that clinched it was a voicemail from my mother, begging me to call them so we could ‘get to the bottom of things.’ I took a walk out over the fields, promising Chris I would check on the horses furthest from the farmhouse, giving me plenty of time to make the call. I took a couple of apples from the bowl on the table, and he rolled his eyes and muttered something about spoiling the horses.
“Keegan,” my dad answered. “It’s about time you returned my call. What the hell are you playing at? Disappearing off like that? If the cops go looking for you and you’re nowhere to be found, do you realize how guilty you will look?”