Beyond the Family Ties

Part 33

"Yes, but she's not mine!"

The ensuing silence from the two women was deafening, and even the doctors still monitoring Laurel seemed to be keeping the conversation to a minimum. Letting out a shuddering breath, Becky wiped at her blotchy cheeks with her shirt sleeve. Freen was looking at her with confusion and uncertainty, not sure what to make of Becky's words, and the doctor pressed her lips together as she absorbed the news in silence.

"What- I don't ... I don't understand," Freen haltingly said, her tearstained face crumpling as she frowned. "What do you mean she's not yours? You're her mother. You- you've had her since the day she was born. I was there. I saw you with her."

Closing her eyes, Becky let out a slow, shaky breath as memories of that day came flooding back to her. It had been her most closely guarded secret for nearly seven years, entrusted to no one else, not even Freen. And it wasn't because of a lack of trust, but because Becky didn't know how to share that with someone. It had taken her a while to trust Freen, to let her in and be her friend, and by that point it was too late for her to be honest about her daughter. But now she had no choice.

---

She was back in Albany City for summer break, and was filled with relief at the fact that it was nearly over. Just a few more weeks and she'd be back at Yale, free from her family for another term, even if her brother sent one of his men to keep tabs on her. After weeks spent wandering around the city, trying to avoid being back at home, with her overbearing mother and her brother dragging drug dealers and petty thieves into the house, the muffled sounds of shouts and the dull thuds of his men beating them to bloody pulps drifting through the floor and the walls, depending on where she was in the house.

Most of her time was spent at the park her father used to take her to when she was younger. They'd always called it Duck Park, because they went there to feed the ducks, back when she was still naive to the truth about her father's business. She walked around that park for hours, following the paths and watching the ducks glide across the surface of the pond, thinking about all those times Lionel had brought her there. Sunny would come too, in those earlier memories, and it was with bitter fondness that she visited that place. It was one of the few places she associated some fond memories with.

At the time that her phone rang, she wasn't at the park. She was sitting in her car outside of the house, waiting for her brother to leave for his nightly trips to the city's most popular gambling dens and exclusive nightclubs, watching as he staggered outside, already half a bottle of whisky into his night, while a cluster of young women decked out in gifted jewelry and designer brands given to them by Sunny, followed after him and his entourage. They were a rotating selection, content to be Sunny's playthings for as long as he spoiled them, and were dumped as soon as he tired of them. She was watching them all make for the limousine parked outside the front door when her phone started buzzing in her pocket.

"Becky Armstrong?" an unfamiliar voice greeted her, shaking slightly.

"Yes?"

"Meet me at the- the park you walk in every ... every day in twenty minutes."

"Excuse me?" Becky spluttered, pulling the phone away from her ear to look down at the lit screen with the unfamiliar number.

The voice started talking again, and she quickly pressed it back against her ear, listening to the heavy breathing in between words. "It's about ... it's- fuck , it's about your family's safety."

A prickle of unease ran down her spine, and she hesitated for a moment, listening to the ragged breaths of the woman on the other end. "Who is this?"

"Twenty minutes."