Chapter 12
She’d told Byron to send the cheapest car he had. He said he’d lend her a Toyota. Who would’ve guessed it would be a brand–new Toyota Alphard MPV?
Sure, maybe that counted as “cheap” by Byron’s standards–just shy of 300 thousand dollars. But compared to the Acosta family’s clunky secondhand
car
ar that cost a little over 10 thousand dollars, wasn’t that a bit over the
top?
“Dora, is this. your friend’s car?” Keith asked, not because he doubted she knew people with money, but because he was surprised she could still borrow a car like this after leaving the Hendrix family.
For a second, he couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Is she really not the Hendrix family’s heiress anymore?”
“Yeah,” Dora replied calmly. She wasn’t even flustered–just quietly resigned to Byron’s usual overkill.
After they got in, the siblings sat in the middle row while little Dewey climbed into the back.
“Hey, give the driver the address for your part–time job,” Dora said.
Snapping out of his daze, Keith turned to the driver. “Wraso Restaurant, thank you.”
The engine started, and they were off.
Dora pulled out her phone and messaged Byron.
Dora: [Mr. Hodges, this is your idea of a Toyota?]
Chapter 12
Byron: It’s over two hours each way. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so I picked something roomy. I
Dora: Pretty sure you didn’t have this car in your garage.]
Byron: Just bought it. Perfect for quick naps when I’m heading to the airport.]
Dora didn’t reply after that. Even though she knew full well he’d bought it. just for her, there wasn’t any point in calling him out.
After dropping Keith off at the restaurant, the car turned back onto the highway, heading toward the outskirts on the other side of the city.
Dewey had barely slept the night before from all the excitement, and after getting up way too early, he’d completely crashed–curled up in the backseat, sound asleep.
The ride was long and uneventful. Bored, Dora scrolled through some financial news on her phone and eventually dozed off too.
By the time she woke up, they had arrived.
In front of her stood a traditional courtyard nestled beside a mountain and a lake. The walls were gray brick, the roof tiled in deep green. She pushed open the redwood gate and stepped inside, greeted by lush trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Following the stone path past a fish pond, they reached the main building. On the veranda, an elderly man with a full head of white hair lounged in a grand wooden armchair, eyes closed, gently rocking as if lulling himself to sleep.
“Alonzo.”
At the sound of her voice, Alonzo Williamson jolted upright–so suddenly the chair wobbled violently beneath him. After a few seconds of awkward
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Chapter 17
flailing, he finally managed to sit up straight.
His eyes widened as he stared at the young woman now smiling brightly just a few steps away.
He sprang to his feet and strode over, giving Dora a solid swat on the arm. Sniffling dramatically, he grumbled, “You little rascal, you still remember me, huh? Do you even know how long it’s been since you last came to see me?”
Rubbing her arm where he smacked her, Dora shot him a mock glare. J’Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And I even brought you a promising new student. Want him or not? If not, I’m leaving.”
She turned as if to walk off, but Alonzo immediately grabbed her arm. “No, no–don’t go! I’ve been bored out of my mind out here. You finally come to visit, at least stay and keep me company a little while.”
Dora gave him a side–eye and sighed, then reached behind to pull Dewey forward. “This is my younger brother Dewey.”
Dewey peeked out shyly from behind her and greeted him in a soft voice, “Hello, Alonzo.”
“Aww, what a sweet boy!” Alonzo beamed, affectionately pinching Dewey’s cheek.
Then he suddenly paused. The smile slipped from his face as he gave Dora a suspicious look. “Wait a second. Didn’t your family only have one
child?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Where are your paints? Dewey loves to draw.” Dora, holding Dewey’s hand, breezed right past Alonzo and headed straight for the studio.
Alonzo stood frozen for a beat before suddenly snapping to attention,
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panic written all over his face as he rushed after them. “Hey, hey, hold on! Those paints are hand–ground from real minerals–they cost a fortune! They’re not for play! If the kid wants to paint, I’ll bring out a different set, okay?”
Dora stopped. “That works.”
She didn’t really care how expensive the paints were–this was just for a school assignment. Besides, any paint Alonzo had on hand wouldn’t be low–quality. The colors were vibrant and varied, more than enough for Dewey to get creative.
J
