13
I took Thomas back home.
My hometown had changed a lot. I didn’t
recognize some parts.
My parents were so happy to see us. They
hugged Thomas, forgetting to make dinner.
Thomas was cute and polite, just like me.
“He’s a handsome kid. He’s going to do great
things,” my dad said.
“Of course. Tom’s done so well, his son will
be even better,” my mom said proudly.
Thomas ate quietly, looking at his
grandparents.
My mom mentioned the neighbors.
“They’ve been having a hard time. Amy’s been
<
a mess…” My mom sighed.
I chuckled. “What did Amy do this time?”
“She was driving a motorcycle without a license and crashed into an old man. She paid him thirty thousand dollars so she wouldn’t go to jail. It broke her family,” my dad explained.
“I heard the motorcycle belonged to some lowlife, that boyfriend of hers. I hate him!”
“They’re still together. At first, they didn’t
want to break up. Now, they’re just stuck with
each other,” my mom said.
I raised an eyebrow. Amy was still with Jake?
She really loved bad boys.
L
“What are they doing now?” I asked.
“What can they do? Amy’s getting older and
finally got her act together. She’s selling stuff at the flea market to make money.
“That boyfriend of hers is always drinking and gambling. She’s the only one working. We
don’t know much about it, and we don’t care.”
My parents didn’t want to talk about it.
I didn’t either.
The next day, some local politicians came to
see me.
I knew why.
<
As a taxpayer, my information was with the
IRS.
The local politicians knew I was rich.
I made millions, had money in the bank, and was a local success story.
I was a good investment.
They wanted me to invest back home, and
offered me great loans and land.
I wanted to do that, so we made a deal for
thirty million dollars.
That was my yearly income.
Claire supported me and had my Maybach
shipped over from Boston.
“If you’re going to invest back home, you
can’t walk everywhere. Get a driver, it’ll look good.”
So, I had my Maybach again.
The driver was local.
One day, I wanted to go to the old street, so I
had the driver take me.
It was packed.
“This area has become a big tourist spot.
There are shops and food stalls everywhere.
The traffic’s always terrible,” the driver said.
I didn’t mind the traffic. I wanted to get some
fresh air.
<
I opened the window and started taking
pictures. It was a hobby.
I wanted to send some pictures to Claire.
I took two pictures, and a woman with messy
hair and a grey shirt came up to the car. “Sir,
want to buy some flowers? For your wife?”
Her voice was rough and raspy.
I paused, frowning.
She pushed the roses into the car. “Sir, these
are great for your wife!”
The driver stopped the car and yelled, “Get
lost! No one wants your flowers!”
<
The woman smiled. “Buy one. They’re great.”
I kept staring at her. Her face was pale, she
had bruises around her eyes, and there were
marks on her neck.
Amy had changed.
