I hated the way they were looking at me. It made my blood run cold . . . colder than it already did.
“To Derek James.” Mr. Earnshaw raised his glass in a toast to my dead father. The uncles repeated his words and drank their whiskeys. Mr. Earnshaw’s hand came underneath my glass and guided it to my mouth. I shook my head, not wanting the drink—I’d never tried alcohol before—but he kept going until the rim of the glass was at my lips. He tilted the glass higher, and the whiskey poured down my throat. He kept it there until I coughed at the burn. The glass dropped to the floor without smashing. I wiped at my mouth and faced Mr. Earnshaw in shock. He cupped my face. “It’ll make you feel better, son. Believe me. It’ll . . . loosen you up. You’ll begin to like both the taste and the effect in no time.” A pause. “We want you to be more relaxed around us. We’re your family now.”
Suddenly, I felt dizzy and the room started spinning. I hated it. I didn’t like what the liquor was doing to me. I didn’t like not being in control.
I must have fallen asleep soon after. When I opened my eyes, it was to find Mrs. Jenkins leading me clumsily to my new bedroom. It was only two doors from Mr. Earnshaw’s office. She opened the door and I stepped inside.
The room spun as I dropped to the bed and fell asleep.
I never got to go back to Dolly and read to her.
I blinked my eyes open as there was a knock at the door. I lifted my head and rubbed my hand down my face. The knock sounded again, then the knob turned and Mrs. Jenkins entered my room.
“I wanna see Dolly,” I growled the minute her eyes met mine.
“Mr. Earnshaw wants to see you in his office. Ellis is busy.”
My jaw clenched, and I swiped my arm out along my nightstand. The glass of water beside me smashed to the floor, shattering on impact with the thin carpet. My arm ached at the movement. Mr. Earnshaw had invited me into his office every night this week with him and “the uncles.” And every night, he’d made me drink his whiskey until I couldn’t see straight anymore, telling me I needed to relax. Every day since, I had been barely able to open my eyes during the day. I felt weak. I couldn’t remember much of what happened in the office after I’d drank, but parts of me always ached the next day. Parts I wasn’t sure should ache . . . My head always felt fuzzy and I found it hard to focus.
“Heathan!” Mrs. Jenkins said. “Come along. They’re waiting.”
Wanting to fight it, but having no energy to do so, I got to my feet and followed her out of the door. I straightened my vest, skimming my fingers along the familiar pocket, feeling the watch inside. My stomach rolled as we stopped at Mr. Earnshaw’s door.
Mrs. Jenkins knocked as usual. But when I walked through the door and she closed it behind me, things seemed different. Instead of being in front of the fire, the uncles were sitting in a circle in the center of the room. And instead of being behind his desk, Mr. Earnshaw was sitting in the circle too.
“Heathan.” he said, turning in his seat to look at me. “Come here,” he ordered. I walked toward him. “Move into the center.”
I walked into the center of the circle and felt all of the uncles’ eyes on me. My legs felt like they would give way at any moment. I was so tired . . .
“Now, Heathan,” Mr. Earnshaw said. I looked at him sitting there, smoking his cigar. He acted like he was a king in this house. “We need to have a chat.” I didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue. “About how you had no other family to take you in once your father died.” He smiled. “So I agreed to be your legal guardian. This much you know.” He shook his head sadly. “But what you won’t know is just how much it costs to raise a child.” I frowned in confusion. “Food and board. Your schooling—”
“We don’t get any schooling. No one ever comes to teach us. Hasn’t since I came here two years ago and I was told I’d get a tutor. None came.”
Mr. Earnshaw waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Well, you see, Heathan, your papa owed me a lot of money.” I looked around the fancy office. Nothing about the office made me think Mr. Earnshaw was in need of money. The whole Earnshaw estate was the biggest and most lavish thing I’d ever seen in my life. “I took the money he left you, in repayment . . . but it wasn’t enough. And now I have you to care for. I have to clothe you, feed you.” He shrugged. “It all costs money.” He relaxed back in his chair. “You’re a young man now, not a child. Question is, what are you gonna do to earn your keep? To pay back what is owed? It’s a man’s duty to never be in debt.”