ELEVEN

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CHAPTER ELEVEN
WASH YOUR HANDS

"MAYBE HE DEVELOPED A GAMBLING PROBLEM," Diana suggested, leaning over the mezzanine that overlooked the foyer

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"MAYBE HE DEVELOPED A GAMBLING PROBLEM," Diana suggested, leaning over the mezzanine that overlooked the foyer. "We could be broke right now and not know it."

It had been three days since Marco Blake came home and his mere presence was enough to raise suspicion from his children. It wasn't normal for him to stay away from Purdue for so long and they were old enough to know how the centre of his heart hardened when he looked at them. There had to be a reason behind his sudden change of behaviour and that was exactly what James and Diana were trying to figure out.

The pair watched from the top of the stairs as he entered his home office and shut the door.

"Maybe he got fired," James suggested.

Diana gave him a flat look. "I doubt it. He's more committed to his job than us."

He thought about it before nodding his head. "Yeah, that's not really saying much," he muttered, moving to walk down the stairs. "There has to be a reason he's still here."

Diana followed closely behind. "Has Allison said anything?"

He shook his head. "You know how Allison is when it comes to our parents."

They entered the kitchen and greeted their mother before sitting at the dining table. Their breakfast was plated before them and their voices fell into hushed whispers.

"Do you think we should be worried?" Diana questioned, her brows furrowing.

James paused at the sight of her wide eyes. It was times like these when he remembered how young she was, that she was still had expectations for their parents despite them never being there for her.

His chest tightened as the whispers of "Nothing is wrong, everything is perfect," crept up behind his ear and the familiar feeling of fierce protectiveness washed over him.

"Leave the worrying to the big kids, Ana." His tone was more reassuring than it was dismissive, and he hoped she didn't feel like he was patronizing her.

Diana rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to make a retort but closed it when their father walked into the kitchen. Her eyes followed him as he greeted the pair gruffly and sat down at the table.

From the fridge, Estella turned. Her gaze caught on her husband and her lips curled into a sneer, but the expression was fleeting. Averting her attention to her son, she said, "James, can you get more milk from the fridge in the garage?"

With a sympathetic stare to his younger sister, James quickly finished his coffee and abandoned his half-eaten breakfast. He sped out of the room, never giving their father the chance to engage in a conversation.

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | billy hargrove Where stories live. Discover now