Like To Be You ✓

forty five

That's 16th Mall in Downtown Denver during Christmas. It's where Neil and Tyler visit in the chapter :)

This chapter's dedicated to NiaGraphics for her sweet comments❤️

o-o-o

Regina Watkins is guilty. I can see it in my mother's eyes.

When I return home, my muscles are more than just sore. I've left my happiness in Tyler's basement and now stand sombre in front of my mother, who holds a cup of tea close to her chest. Her hand absently glides through Gregory Hugh Francis' generous fur, and he blissfully ignores us, instead licking his well-manicured paw.

"Mom." I say, fiddling with the front of my shirt. "Tell me what happened."

Mom's face pulls down as she pats the space beside her on the sofa. I settle next to her, putting an arm over her shoulder, and pull her in toward me. She sniffles and leans in.

"They looked into her bank statements." My mother finally says. "Fifty two thousand dollars was wired from an account which was closed shortly after." She pauses to take a sip of her tea. "It was under the name of Peter Wurtz."

"Who's that?" I say. "Was it a fake account? Wait, can bank accounts even be fake?"

My mother nods. "There's no Peter Wurtz related to us or any of our mutual. They're still looking into it."

"What was the money for?"

My mother brings to cup to her lips but stops short.

"Mom?" I prompt.

She exhales roughly. "It was to⁠- to sleep with Robbie."

For a few moments, tumultuous silence reigns. I despise it with every atom of my body.

"Did she drug him too?" I ask. My muscles and spine have tensed up, and goosebumps rise over my skin.

"No." Mom says. "She says she didn't."

"Oh yeah, and we'll believe her, won't we?" The words are bitter on my tongue.

"I don't know, Neil. I really don't." She rubs her temple. Gregory mewls at that, demanding she put her hand back to scratch him.

"What else did she say? Who told her to drug Dad? And why did they want to drug Dad?" I say, playing with her ponytail. She jerks her head away and gives me a look. She hates when people touch her hair, a trait I've inherited from her.

"They're still investigating, Neil."

"What did she say, though?" I press. "She must've said something."

My mother sighs into her now cool cup. "She said that somebody had texted her on the twentieth of that month, instructing her to do what she did. She was in a lot of debt at the time, student loans and all, and she needed the money, so she agreed."

"Just like that?" I say. "With no advance or anything? No guarantee?"

"She was paid an advance of ten thousand." Mom says, setting the cup on the coffee table beside her. "And whoever texted her said to go to The Mauve Olive near Otaku House. They said that Robbie would be th⁠-"

"Otaku House." I interrupt her. "That's where Anthony took us for dinner on his birthday." I jump up from the sofa, startling Gregory and Mom. "It's him, Mom! I knew it was him!"