ADVERTISEMENT

“Sir, I found your son beside the dumpster outside your mansion,” a soaking wet little girl said as she handed over a crying baby wrapped in a black trash bag. The billionaire, declared sterile twelve years earlier, didn’t panic. He stared into the child’s eyes and asked, “Who sent you here to play this sick game?” The little girl pointed a trembling finger at the top of the grand staircase, whispering, “The lady who told us to throw him away.”

ADVERTISEMENT

name is Florence. She was on your family’s payroll thirty years ago as a domestic servant. She claims your late father forced himself on her, and that she bore his child.”

I slowly lowered the phone, turning to look at Charlee. She was gently stroking Dexter’s cheek with the paw of the blue teddy bear, humming a fractured lullaby.

The brave, starving continue reading …

ADVERTISEMENT

Leave a Comment

ADVERTISEMENT