Chapter 4 - The Ghost of the Brother
A week later,
I found Savannah in the kitchen,
making tea while Leo played with the turtle.
"Tell me about Toby,"
I said,
recalling the name Frankie had found.
She froze,
the kettle whistling,
steam rising around her head.
"Frankie is a very good investigator,"
she said,
her voice tight.
"Toby was my brother."
"He was eight when he died."
"He never said a word,
either."
She turned to me,
her eyes wet with old grief.
"My parents spent everything they had on 'cures'."
"They sent him to schools that were more like prisons."
"They wanted a son they could show off."
"They didn't want the son they had."
"I was the only one who just sat with him."
"We had a language,
Mr. Sterling."
"A language of shadows and touch."
"One day,
he wandered off toward the lake."
"He saw something,
I think."
"Something beautiful."
"He didn't know how to call for help when he slipped."
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"When I look at Leo,
I see Toby."
"I see a boy who is overwhelmed by the world's noise."
"You think your money is a shield,"
she said,
stepping toward me.
"But to him,
it's just more noise."
"The marble,
the cars,
the bodyguards..."
"It's all screaming at him."
I looked at Leo,
who was tracing the pattern of the turtle's shell.
I had built a fortress to protect him,
but I had actually built a prison.
"I didn't know,"
I whispered.
"Now you do,"
she said.
"So,
May you like
stop being a billionaire for an hour."
"And try being a dad."
