— Elena asked, returning to the table.
Drew nodded, hanging his jacket on the peg.
— He’s gone, — he said, without turning around.
— Will he come back? — Cassie looked up, her eyes bright.
— I don’t know, Cassie. — Drew sat at the table and grabbed a mug.
Elena and Cassie looked at each other. They were silent. Drew drank his tea, staring at the table. You were so happy for him, he thought. You believed in him so much. How can I destroy that? Tell you it was all a lie, that Arthur used us? I can’t. They can’t handle it.
The first week passed in a fog. Drew went to school, did his homework, helped around the house. But he was quiet. He withdrew into himself like a turtle in a shell. Elena tried to get him to talk.
— Drew, what’s wrong? — she asked one evening, sitting beside him. — You’re not yourself.
— Everything’s fine, Mom, — Drew shrugged. — Just tired.
— Are you thinking about Arthur? — Elena put a hand on his shoulder. — I am too. He was a good man. It’s a shame he had to leave.
Drew said nothing. A knot grew in his chest, pressing against his throat. Cassie kept asking when Arthur would come back. Drew dodged the questions, saying he didn’t know, maybe someday. Every word about Arthur was like a knife, he thought at night, staring at the ceiling. But he couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t hurt them. The second week was worse. Drew didn’t sleep. He sat by the window, watching the stars. Thinking about trust. About people. About how easy it is to be fooled.
“How did I not see it,” he thought. “He promised so much, too much. He trusted us so quickly—it was suspicious. But I wanted to believe. I wanted someone to show up. Like my dad coming back.”
The end of the second week brought a change. Drew was doing his homework when he heard the rumble of an engine. He went to the window. A black SUV. His heart sank. Again? But Mike Vance got out of the car alone, no guards. He walked to the gate and knocked. Drew went onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
— Hey, Drew, — Mike said, offering a hand.
— Hello, — Drew shook it warily.
— I promised I’d let you know. — Mike put his hands in his coat pockets. — We found the money. In the safe, just like you said. We bought the equipment back. The plant is going to stay open.
— That’s good, — Drew nodded.
— You saved hundreds of jobs. — Mike stepped closer. — That matters. Your mother, she’s a good worker. I looked into it. Reliable, hard-working.
Drew was silent, looking away. Mike pulled a thick white envelope from his pocket.
— This is for you, — he offered. — A thank you.
Drew stepped back a pace.
— No, — he said, shaking his head. — I didn’t do it for money.
— I know, — Mike nodded. — But take it anyway. For your family.
— No, — Drew straightened up. — Thank you. But no.
Mike looked at him for a long time. Then he tucked the envelope away and nodded.
— I understand, — he said quietly. — As you wish. You’ve got pride. That’s a good thing. Take care of yourselves.
He turned and walked back to the car. He got in and drove away. Drew went back inside. Elena was at the stove.
— Who was that? — she asked, stirring the soup.
— Nobody, — Drew went to the table. — Someone from your work.
He didn’t even tell Mike the truth. “I won’t tell anyone,” he thought. “This is my burden. My cross to bear.”
The third week brought clarity. Drew was slowly recovering, calming down. He realized he’d learned a lesson, a bitter but important one…
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