Weight of The Untold

Chapter 63

Week 27: The brain continues to form and develop. The eyes continue developing and the retinas are forming. The baby can also hear and distinguish familiar voices.

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“Reid.”

My voice cut through the room the second I shut the door behind me.

Both of them looked up at me—Caleb startled, Grandpa unfazed, already sinking deeper into his glass.

“Reid Collins. Who is he?”

I didn’t wait for an answer as I walked straight toward Caleb. Grandpa stayed sprawled on the couch, whiskey in hand, like this entire night hadn’t cracked something open inside all of us.

Are all Davisons heavy on the alcohol?

It’s another thing that runs in the family I noted.

“He’s a shareholder in the company and a multi-millionaire. Why?” Caleb asked.

But none of it made sense.

If he was the one—then why would he be a shareholder in the same empire my father once ruled? Or was it jealousy? Revenge? Guilt disguised as loyalty?

“What do you know about the guy besides that?” I pressed.

“Kid, why would I need to know about him so much?” Grandpa scoffed. “He’s just a shareholder like any other shareholder.”

I shook my head. Something felt off. Too off.

“His parents were engineers. I knew them. Jada and Garry.”
Grandpa said it casually—but my body stiffened instantly.

“Were?” I turned to him. “What happened? They retired?”

“No.”
He looked away.
“They died. They died in line of duty.”

The room felt smaller.

“Oh.”

I started pacing. My heels clicked softly against the polished floor, the sound too loud in my head.
“There has to be something else though. That cannot just be it about him.”

“Kyla, why are you asking about him so much?” Caleb asked.

And then it hit me.

“Of course!”
I stopped abruptly.
“Caleb, I need you to call Mark. I need him to find everything he can on Reid. ASAP.”

“I will—if you tell me what’s going on.”

I sighed. “I think there’s something fishy going on with that guy. Please, Caleb.”

He hesitated, then pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly. When he finished, he slipped it back into his pocket.

“Done.”

“Thank you.”
My chest loosened slightly—but only slightly.

“So what do we do about John?” Caleb asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Don’t touch him.”
The words left me immediately.

Grandpa’s head snapped toward me.

“And why not?”

“I don’t think it’s him.”

Caleb frowned. “Just like that? You don’t think it’s him?”

I nodded.

“Of course she doesn’t,” Grandpa slurred. “She doesn’t even know the man! She doesn’t know anything actually—she’s a kid.”

He downed another shot.