Melody has betrayed both Turner and myself and as I transfix my gaze on her, she recoils as if I have just bitch slapped her . . . which is exactly what I will do if she doesn’t give me one hell of a damn good reason as to why she has never told her son the truth all these years.
I continue to stay distant and cold as ice as I approach her.
“Good morning, Clove.”
Her voice is unsteady and unsure.
“No. I wouldn’t call it a good morning at all, Melody. Would you?”
I glare murderously.
“No, I guess it’s not. And most likely never will be again, by the look on your face.”
I say nothing as I pass her by and open the door to her house. She follows right behind me, and when I enter the foyer of her home my throat instantly goes dry when I see all the familiar pictures on the wall and fireplace mantle of Turner and myself. My eyes land on one of them and at lightning speed my legs have me standing in front of it.
“That photo has always been my favorite of the two of you.”
“Yes. Mine too.”
I feel her stand close behind me. I continue my survey and precious memories flood my mind of the day this picture was taken. Turner and I were so young and carefree then. It was taken by his mother about three months after we started dating.
We didn’t even know she had taken it. Turner is sitting on a swing in the park as I sit on his lap with my legs straddling him. We are front to front as my legs hang loosely behind his back. His big, strong hands are cradling my face and our foreheads are touching. I loved him then and I love him now more than I ever thought possible.
“I know I have a lot of explaining to do. Most likely neither you nor my son will ever forgive me for keeping all of this from you, but please listen to everything I have to say, Clove.”
I know Melody well, at least I thought I did, and she sounds sincere. I set the photo back down on top of the mantle and without even acknowledging her, I turn and take the few steps over to the loveseat in the corner of her spacious living room.
“I’ll listen,” I say as I sit down.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asks.
“No. What I want is for you to talk and tell me the truth so I can find my husband.”
My voice is cold and full of hate. I don’t give a shit anymore.
“You act as if I don’t care about Turner’s well being at all, Clove. He’s my son, for God’s sake.”
“I know you love your son, Melody, and so do I. You’re hiding something, damn it, and if it’s something that can help us find him then don’t you think you should speak up? I just don’t under-”
She cuts me off by holding up her hand as if to silence me.
“You what? You don’t understand? No one will ever understand the hell I have been through for twenty-six years. They’re my children. Trust me when I say I know where my loyalties lie, but if you think this is easy for me well then you really don’t know me at all, Clove.”
I swallow back my pride and sit there waiting as she takes a seat across from me in a dark green wingback chair. She exhales loudly as she lifts her head to meet my gaze.
“I knew the day that James took Trent I would most likely never see my son again.”
Tears well up in her eyes and she looks away from me.
“He was so abusive, Clove. I thanked God every day that my sons were too young to remember some of the horrible things their father did. And I will never forgive myself for the way he treated Turner.”
“Zack told me all about it, but I am not here to listen to you tell me how you have suffered and will never forgive yourself. That is your guilt to bear, not mine. I need you to tell me why you never told your son the truth about having a brother- an identical twin at that. How could you keep something like that from him?”
Venom is spewing from my mouth at this point. I don’t give a shit about the damage I may cause with my words.
“You sit over there and judge me all you want to, Clove, but you have no idea what kind of man James is and the things he could do and would do.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now, Melody? Everything you have said to me so far is a bunch of shit.”
Melody straightens her posture and looks me dead in the eye.
“He threatened to kill Turner,” she says, her voice just a hint above a whisper.
“He what?”
“I reported my son missing the minute I knew he was gone. For months and months they searched for both of them. It was as if they just vanished. Trent was too young to go to school, so there were no school records. I have no clue how they survived or what they did. There was nothing, absolutely nothing anywhere. After about six months or so I received a late night visitor just as I climbed into bed.”
Her eyes show the worst kind of pain I have ever seen and her body language suddenly goes stiff with what I assume are unpleasant memories entering her mind. I am a being a bitch and I know this, so I keep quiet to give her the time and space she needs.
“James was in my bed, waiting for me. I was dead tired that night from working and then coming home to a crying toddler. Turner cried for his brother for almost a year. My heart broke every time. What do you say to a little boy when you know his brother is never coming back?”
We stare at each other in silence and my heart cracks right down the middle, thinking of what Turner had to go through at such a young age.
“James put his hand over my mouth and told me he would kill Turner if I said even one word to him. I had never feared for anything in my life like I did that night. He hated Turner. His own flesh and blood.”
I can’t hold back the tears anymore so I just let them fall as I listen to her pained voice.
“H-he said Trent was dead, Clove.”
I don’t blink or turn my head away as I process what she just said.
“So you see? I never once gave up, because for all these years I thought my son was dead; dead at the hands of his own father. There was no way in hell I was going to tell Turner anything. As he grew up I was always afraid he would ask about Trent, but he never did. Not one time did he ask about his brother or his father. At the time I was grateful he forgot about them, but maybe he never did. I don’t know. Maybe as he grew to understand things he didn’t want to hurt me by asking. And now . . .”
She looks down at her hands, which are resting on her lap as she clasps them even tighter.
“Now I have a son who I love more than life itself, and another son who for all these years I have thought was dead and he’s not. So yes, I am living through hell right now, and yes, I deserve to be there. I have to live the rest of my life with guilt and shame because I believed that animal, and now it appears that Trent is exactly like him. And . . .”
“And what?”
I know why he’s here. I know exactly what they want from Turner.”
Her voice is very soft as she continues.
“Turner is about to become a very rich man, Clove.”
Her voice cracks and is filled with agony. I lean forward in my seat, stunned.
“What did you just say?”
Her body stiffens and she stands up and starts pacing the floor.
“He will inherit twenty million dollars when he turns thirty.”
My mouth drops open and I feel like I have just been kicked in the teeth by this sudden revelation.
“How? Why? I don’t understand. Does Turner even know about this?”
“No. He doesn’t know about this. He does know that my parents are very wealthy, but you know how Turner is. Money isn’t important to him in the sense that he has to have millions of dollars to survive.”
All I can do is shake my head in disbelief as Melody continues on.
“I planned on telling him soon to prepare both of you for when the time came. Now I may never see my son again, all because they want that money. James knew those boys would be set for the rest of their lives. All these years he must have been keeping tabs on us, my parents included. And now that both of them are gone and those boys are about to turn thirty, what better way to get your hands on millions of dollars than to switch one twin for the other?”