“Survive.”
“And after thirty days?”
Richard shut his briefcase.
“You meet the board of Brooks Holdings.”
I blinked.
“The board?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“You decide whether you want the company.”
I stared at him.
“I thought I inherited everything.”
“You inherited the right to choose.”
He turned toward the entrance of the alley.
“But there’s one more thing you should know.”
I stood there without speaking.
Richard glanced back at me.
“Your father doesn’t know we’ve found you.”
A cold sensation spread through my chest.
“Then who does?”
Richard gave me a thin smile.
“Everyone who matters.”
He walked away.
I remained beside my broken-down car, holding a flash drive worth more than anything I’d ever possessed.
For the first time in nine days, food wasn’t on my mind.
I wasn’t thinking about where I would sleep.
I wasn’t even thinking about my father.
I was thinking about thirty days.
Thirty days to survive.
Thirty days to uncover the truth.
And thirty days before my family discovered that the son they’d thrown away was the heir they’d been trying to hide from the world.
Thirty days passed.
Thirty days since I’d slept in the backseat of my car.
Thirty days since Richard Hartwell had found me behind a restaurant.
Thirty days since I discovered my father had lied to me for eighteen years.
And somehow, those thirty days changed everything.
I didn’t spend them living like the heir of a wealthy man.
I spent them working.
I kept going to school.
I kept my part-time job.
I slept in a small room at a youth shelter Richard had helped me find, while a temporary trust covered only my basic necessities.
No luxury.
No new clothes.
No expensive meals.
No access to the inheritance.
My grandfather had insisted on one thing above everything else:
I needed to discover who I was without money.
And I did.
On the thirtieth morning, Richard arrived at the shelter in a black sedan.
He stepped out wearing the same tailored suit he’d worn when he found me behind the restaurant.
“You ready?”
