“No, she left a little while ago.”

“How is he doing now?”

“She gave him something for sleep.”

“Good. I guess I’ll go see Dorian and see what’s what. It’s terrible to see anyone that small that frightened.” He started to rise.

“I’m sorry about him,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to see him suffer or anything.”

He nodded and remained frozen in place, expecting me to say more, maybe apologize for my behavior, but I wasn’t ready to do that and maybe never would be.

“I miss my brother,” I said instead. “A lot. I’m sure he was very frightened after that truck ran into him and Myra.”

His face softened. “I know, Clara Sue. Believe me, not a day passes when I don’t think about him or what I could have done to prevent it.”

I pressed my lips tightly together. I didn’t try to swallow or breathe, and I didn’t want to start crying again.

He sat back down. “I don’t want to spend whatever I have left of my life in constant mourning, Clara Sue. I’ve had more than my fair share, but I’m not whining about myself. That gets you nowhere, and even friends, people who like you, get turned off by all the damn self-pity. It sounds cruel to think like that, but that’s the way it is. I’ve got you, I’ve got your uncle Bobby, I’ve got my business, and now I’ve got that boy upstairs to look after. Whoever did this to him should be burned at the stake. I think about that, and it gets me angry, and I want to do something about it. I believe I was meant to.”

He looked as enraged as ever. Then he paused and took a deep breath.

“You’ve heard me say some of this before. But that’s all there is to it. I don’t love you or Willie any less. I hope you can live with that,” he said, and stood up.

I watched him leave, his shoulders a bit more slumped than usual. Then I took a deep breath, wiped some tears away before they could reach the middle of my cheeks, and got up and went to see what My Faith was making for dinner.

I could tell she was very nervous in my presence, probably because of all the nasty things I had said, especially now when everyone was on edge about the boy.

“I’m sorry if I said anything mean to you, My Faith.”

She paused and looked at me. “You’re not a mean and sassy girl, Clara Sue. I know that. Everyone has their times. And nothin’ you could say or do would change my opinion of you, child. Don’t you know that?”

I smiled and nodded at the stove. “That’s your famous corn pone you’re making, right?”

“It’s not really anything special.”

“Yes, it is. You have a secret ingredient. Grandma Lucy told me so.”

She laughed. “Well, if it’s a secret, I can’t tell you, now, can I?”

I nodded. She held her arms out, and we hugged.

“I know you’re hurting,” she said. “And you know we are, too.”

I nodded and looked at the stove again. I could smell what was being prepared for dinner. “Orange baked ham?”

“Your granddad asked for it yesterday,” she said. “It’s his favorite.”

“Mine, too. I’ll be hungry tonight,” I told her, and I hurried back upstairs. I was eager to call Aaron and fill him in on all that had happened.

“The Farmingham mansion,” he said as soon as I’d finished babbling at Superman speed. “That has to be a big clue.”

“I know, but they didn’t get anything sensible out of him. I guess it was really terrible. My grandfather looked like he did when Willie died. Everyone did.”

“Except you. You’re like the odd man ou

t now.”

“We’ll see,” I said. “Maybe I’ll just bend that branch and not break it.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews
Source: readsnovelonline.net