Read Online Secret Brother by V.C. Andrews - Free Book Online Page B

award. Maybe a scholarship at your school. I tell you what. You’ll be just as important to the decision, okay?”
    I nodded. That sounded good. Uncle Bobby was right, I thought. I shouldn’t be so intolerant of how Grandpa was acting and what he was trying to do.
    I could see that he was hesitating. He finished his meal, drank some water, and sat back. “I was thinking that you might like to go with me tonight to the hospital. I’m meeting with the neurologist about that little boy. He’s rather sad and I’m sure still very frightened. I have him in a private room, which is the most comfortable place he could be there, but there are no other young people. He sees only nurses and doctors,” he said.
    I didn’t say anything.
    â€œIt would be nice if you spoke to him. He has yet to say anything to anyone,” he added.
    I looked up. “What would I say, Grandpa?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. You can ask him how he is. Anything.”
    â€œWhy would he talk to me?”
    â€œI don’t know. You’re a young person, too. Maybe he has a sister.”
    â€œWell, where is she? Why doesn’t someone come to ask about him and take him home?” I demanded. I couldn’t contain my anger. “How do you just deposit your own child like some . . . garbage?”
    He shook his head. “I’m trying to find out.”
    â€œBut you’ve run into a dead end.”
    â€œRight now,” he said. “I’m still on it.”
    â€œSomeone could have a little boy, and they don’t want him, and we lost Willie. It’s not fair.”
    â€œNo, it’s not fair. That’s a lesson you have to learn in life. Things don’t happen just because they should or because it’s fair. You have to make things happen, even the right things, Clara Sue. So what about it? You should get out of the house, and I could use your help with the boy.”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said.
    â€œWhatever. I’ll be going in about . . .” He looked at his watch. “A half hour.”
    My Faith appeared. She looked at my plate.
    â€œI ate all I could,” I said sullenly. She nodded. “It wasn’t any less delicious than ever.”
    â€œNo, that’s for sure,” Grandpa told her. “How’s Myra?”
    â€œShe fell asleep eating,” My Faith said.
    â€œI’ll check on her later,” Grandpa said.
    â€œI’ll check on her now,” I snapped, and got up before he could say anything.
    â€œYou want some of that peach pie you love?” My Faith called after me.
    â€œI don’t love it,” I replied. “Willie loves it.”
    The silence fell like thunder behind me.

4

    When I looked at myself in the hallway mirror, I thought I looked more mean than mournful. I didn’t like that. It seemed a wrong feeling to have right now. My sorrow over Willie should make every other feeling do what my grandfather often said about things he didn’t think were as important: “take a backseat.”
    I obviously had an expression on my face that drew Myra’s attention. The moment I opened her door, even though I did it softly and slightly, she looked at me, her eyes taking on that familiar curiosity, this time when she correctly suspected that something was bothering me more than what was to be expected following Willie’s funeral. I wasn’t surprised. Who, after all, knew me better than Myra? Even before my parents died, she had become like another grandmother to me. Having been my mother’s nanny for so long, she was as familiar as my grandmother Lucy had been with the gestures, expressions, andquirks I had inherited from my mother. Both of them often said, “You’re just like your mother.”
    Myra lifted her good arm, and I ran to her bedside to let her take my hand.
    â€œSomeone said something that bothered you?” she asked. “One of your