Discovered

Chapter 2: Heard On The Television

"What's going on?" I asked as I walked over to them. Mom and Dad's suitcases were still on the wooden floor. My parents were now standing in front of the television with their apprehensive eyes.

"Mom?" I asked. She looked at me, but didn't say a word. "Good morning," the female reporter introduced. "My name is Amy and I am in Harlem where the action took place. Lewis Porter, one of Harlem's best school principals, has been shot twice after leaving this KFC restaurant. This incident just happen..."

She talked about the recent incident so much that I rolled my eyes at the television screen. "Isn't that obvious?" I asked aloud. Sighing, Dad had to fast forward the news until the television showed the scene where the medics carried an old man into the hospital.

Mom swallowed hard and watched as the woman asks witnesses questions. Without a word, Mom took the remote out of Dad's hand then shut it off. She sat down on the living room couch then looked at me. "Mom," I began softly. "Are you alright? What did this guy have to do with-"

"Please sit down," Mom interrupted with a smile. "It's okay, I am not mad at you." Swallowing a gulp, I did what I was told. Dad sat filled the empty space next to me then held my hand. "Mom," I began. "Were you related to that guy?" She nodded as she stroked my cheeks sadly. "Do you remember going to Grandma's house in Harlem?" Mom asked.

I thought about it for a moment then shook my head. "I don't blame you," Mom chuckled. "You were very little. I remembered that we went to Harlem to spend the day with Grandma." Just then, I realized what she was talking about.

I remembered holding Mom's hand and wore a white blouse with black pants, sneakers, and a blue headband. "Where were you, Dad?" I asked, turning to him.

"I was taking late shifts at work," he sighed. "You and Grandma were making her world famous chocolate chip cake," Mom continued. "You were at least twelve years old." I smiled as I remembered walking together with Mom where Grandma was standing in front of a small house.

The memory flashed as I was standing in front of a chocolate chip cake batter sitting in a glass bowl. All of a sudden, my smile turned into a frown. "Where was Grandpa?" I asked. "Was he at the house?"

Mom nodded very slowly then tightened my hand. "I never trusted your grandfather," she replied. "Because of him, he was the reason why my family grew apart. Every time he hangs around with you, I always think that he was going to hurt you."

Something doesn't make any sense. "Okay," I said slowly. "But what does this guy, Lewis Porter, have to do with-" "He is your grandfather," Mom interrupted. I stared at her for a moment. "Lewis Porter is my grandfather?" I asked in disbelief. "I understand why you hate him, but did he ever introduce me?"

"No," Dad answered. "We never let your grandfather go near you." "Why?" I asked. "You're saying that I never met my grandfather?" Mom wanted to speak, but her mouth let out a croak.

"Cleo," Mom started to say. "I-" I rose up from the couch and marched upstairs. "Cleo," Dad pleaded. He was about to follow me, but Mom grabbed him by the arm. "Leave her alone," I heard Mom say.

I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. Tears rushed through my eyes as I slithered down on the floor. Mom and Dad waited this long to tell me? I wondered. I buried my face into my hands then rocked back and forth.

Suddenly, I heard my parents talking downstairs. "I knew it," Dad sighed. "I knew telling her was a bad idea." "Cleo deserves to know, Ben!" Mom hissed. "And besides, we both made a promise that we will never lie to our own daughter!"

"Your father is a menace!" Dad argued. "He cheated on your mother, lied to your face, he even tried to kill you. What makes you think he can change?" "He is my dad!" Mom argued back. "I love him as much as I love you and Cleo."

My heart skipped a beat as I leaned my ear against the door. "Yes, he is a monster, and yes he tried to hurt me, but now he's dead and it's all my fault! I should have just forgiven him."

I heard Mom sobbing uncontrollably then wiped away my tears. "I never want Cleo to end up alone and scared, like you, Seth, and even me." Gathering my courage, I rose up from the floor and marched downstairs.

With a sharp glance, I caught Mom and Dad tearfully hugging. Quietly, I walked over to them and wrapped my arms around them. Mom noticed me and buried her lips on my forehead.

"I am sorry," she wept. "I know," I said softly. "You were just trying to protect me." Mom and Dad through their arms around me then squeezed me tight. "We love you so much," Dad murmured. "I love you too guys." I whispered back.

Mom kissed my head two times then released me. As they both gave me a sad smile and take their luggage upstairs, Uncle Seth came bursting into the house with a shocked look at his face. He wore his brown suit and tie as always, except his red beard was half shaven off of his face. Something tells me that he saw the news at the barbershop and tried to tell us.

"G-Guys!" he sputtered. "There's something you have to see-" "What happen to your face?" Mom asked, staring at him. "I was at the barber's," Uncle Seth explained. "Watching the news, looking at the hot news reporter-" "We all saw it," I interrupted sadly. "My grandfather is dead in Harlem."

"So, I ditched the barber's for nothing," he sighed. "Fantastic." Uncle Seth looked at my parents, who were sad and miserable, then back at me. "Sorry Cleo," he murmured. He walked over to me then gave me a heartwarming hug. "Thanks Uncle Seth," I beamed, leaning against his chest.

On the outside, I was happy and strong, but the inside I wondered... who killed my grandfather and why?