Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
It took very little effort to figure out that the matron of the orphanage and the tax collector who was appointed in 2006 were taking the funds allocated to run the orphanage and keeping them for themselves. Once they were arrested, I went in and took everything over since my parents had allowed me to run over the orphanage myself. The first group of children affected by this only numbered nine, including Christopher. I found them all and apologized for the wrongs committed by those who should have cared for them when they needed them most. I also ensured they never had to worry about anything else ever again. The total number of children affected by Mrs. Spangle and Henry Callenger’s selfishness was forty. I took care of them, too. Making sure these children had everything they needed, even wanted, became the only thing I thought about it. It consumes me.
I also got rid of the rest of the staff at the orphanage. While they didn’t take any money, they certainly didn’t raise any alarms any higher than the matron when these kids had nothing. I couldn’t have slept at night knowing all they had was oatmeal and no fucking heat. I cleaned house and started over. It may seem excessive, but I don’t care.
The orphanage scandal was in the papers and on the news over the next month. I knew the people deserved answers. Once everything was in order satisfactorily, I scheduled a press conference for this morning. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I knew something was wrong. Off, if you will. I rushed into the bathroom and was sick.
“It’s just nerves. The press conference,” Mom says as coming into my bathroom. She came up to my room after I didn’t come down for breakfast. Baby Daisy is giggling in her crib in the corner of my room. I officially adopted her. How could I not?
“No, Mom. I don’t think that’s it. Can you call for Dr. Pomeroy?”
“Of course, dear.”
Two hours later, my suspicions are confirmed. I’m pregnant. I’m carrying the man I love’s baby—the man I can’t stop thinking about—the man who hasn’t called me once in six weeks—six entire weeks. But I can’t think about that right now. I have a press conference to give.
I go to City Hall from the palace with Martin and Dante. As I stand behind the podium on the steps outside, the camera flashes, and journalists start screaming my name. I’m nauseous, and nerves have nothing to do with it. I want Christopher. I miss him. I need him.
“Princess Anya! Princess Anya!”
“I know you all have questions, but please allow me to make a statement beforehand. A few weeks ago, I met a man, a nice, hardworking man who grew up here in our orphanage. As he told me of his childhood and his experience, I was prompted to begin an investigation into the orphanage, and what I discovered was heartbreaking. Several arrests have been made and working their way through the court system while I overhaul the orphanage. Without this man, Christopher, this would not have been discovered, and our orphaned children who need us the most would continue to suffer. My father, our beloved King, has granted these survivors knighthood. All forty of them.”
I can do this. I can do anything.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
CHRISTOPHER
It's good to be home. The two weeks away have done me good and I have my head on right. The two weeks I spent in Sealandia were hectic, to say the least. Herb, the guy who runs the dock, had five new fishermen who had no clue what they were doing regarding navigating a boat. It was great, though, because I didn't have much downtime, which meant less time to think and dwell.
I cleared my head, and I felt more like myself. After dumping my duffel in the house and checking on my fish tank, I drive to the dock to let Mal know I am back and to check on my boat. “I have been checking on your baby, Chris. She is doing just fine.” Chuckling, I thank him and look it over. I’m hit with a momentary second of melancholy before I rope it back in. I am fine. I know who I am, and I can live with that.
I am noticing a bunch of media everywhere and wondering what I missed. I did notice a certain something in the air when I drove though the bridge. There is an urgency or a change in the air that I can’t quite place, but it is leaving me curious.
I stop in the market first to grab a few things and stock up. While idling through the aisle, I hear whispers and words like ‘Royal,’ ‘scandal,’ and ‘press conference.’ I try to hear more of what they are saying, but then the announcement comes over the speaker about the sales going on, and all is lost.