Page 5 of Dylan
Those who do know say nothing because the odds fall in their favor. In the end, I walked away with my portion of the purse and Theo walked with his betting earnings and part of the purse.
Lily never used to bring in as much as I could. Not in wins or earnings. She used to be Theo’s meal ticket before I was oldenough to do it. I’m so happy to be away from all of them. However, I don’t know what to do now.
“What the fuck, Cee-Cee?” I huff to myself.
I reach into my bag and pull out my sketch pad. I flip through and stare at the image I’ve drawn over and over again. It’s of a boy.
I can’t remember who he is. He’s about ten or so. I know he’s not Ciarán. My brother looks like me, with his green-gray eyes and golden-brown skin.
Besides, I’ve been drawing this boy since before Ciarán was around his age. I’ve seen his face a million times in my dreams. He feels like he’s important to me, but I don’t know why or who he could be.
In my dreams, he has bright blue eyes with golden specks in them and thick blond hair. There’s always a mischievous smile on his lips. I run my fingertips over his face and try to remember something.
“Who are you?” I murmur, wishing the page would answer me back.
Nothing comes and frustration builds. I don’t have time for this. I need to come up with a plan.
Sighing, I place the sketch pad back into my bag and pull out the envelope with our documents inside. I snuck into Theo’s office to retrieve them. I’ll need to find Ciarán a new school.
My frown deepens as I read Ciarán’s birth certificate. His name is listed as Ciarán Walsh. I take out mine and read the name printed on it. Ciara Walsh is on mine.
I’m taken aback. Although Ciara feels familiar, I’ve always been called Cee-Cee. As far as I’ve been told, my last name is Young. Theo has always filled out paperwork for us and placed his last name as ours.
I glance at the names listed for my parents. Iesha Rogers is listed on both documents for our mom. However, I knit my brows as I see our father’s name.
Donald Walsh.
My brain tickles a little more. I grab a notepad and scribble the name down. I also copy his date of birth as well. My mouth falls open as I read both my father’s and my birthplace.
Ireland.
The accent. It’s not as strong as when I was younger. It mostly comes out when I’m angry, but Theo could never explain it. He always brushed me off when I asked and corrected me when it happened.
Quickly, I check what’s listed on Ciarán’s. My eyes bug out as I see New York as my brother’s birthplace. I have so many questions.
Theo was my mother’s husband when she died. I’ve never asked about or thought about my real father. Not that Theo was open about information when it came to my past or anything about my mom.
Sometimes I wonder if he knew her at all. His refusal to give me little tiny details about her has always made me so angry. If he loved her, how could he block out everything about her?
My chest grows tight. What does this mean? I was already nervous about taking my brother with me.
Theo could have me arrested and I’d lose my brother to the system or worse. He’d be stuck with the Youngs, but there was no way I was going to leave him behind.
This is why I’m headed to California. We don’t know anyone there, but Theo isn’t coming there for us. This will give me time to figure things out.
Hopefully, Theo will forget about us. However, as I look down at our birth certificates, I get this sinking feeling in my gutthat this isn’t over. My goal is to protect my brother. I will do anything to make that happen.
“Cee, is everything okay?” Ciarán says sleepily.
I look up into his eyes. I hate the concern I see there. He deserves so much better.
“Yeah. Everything is fine.”
“Are we almost there yet?”
I look at the screen on the back of the seat in front of us. The map shows we’re still thirty minutes out from our destination. It isn’t a long flight, but I think we’re both exhausted.
I think we both passed out before the plane took off. My heart races as the magnitude of it all comes down on me. When we land, this will all get real.
