Page 149 of Slumming It
I could hardly believe it. "So the name wasn't fake at all? That's seriously messed up."
"You didn't know?"
I shook my head. "No. Of course not."
"So, what'd he say about his family?"
"Nothing. I mean, yeah, I tried to talk to him about it, but it seemed like a sore subject, so I let it drop. I figured he would tell me eventually, but…well, I guessthat'snot gonna happen, is it?" Even as I said it, I felt a pain in my heart that had nothing to do with the photo.
Vivian asked, "Want to hear something funny?"
I doubted anything would amuse me now. "What?"
"The scuttlebutt around the office is that he's the secret son of some Danish lord."
I'd seen those same rumors myself on the internet. In the beginning, it was one of the many reasons I'd thought that Reese Murdock was some rich jackass who had never known hardship.
My heart ached as I considered the boy in the photo.The way things looked, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
And now I felt a little ashamed. "But that photo – how did you learn about it in the first place?"
"Just by chance," Vivian said. "Early this morning – you know, in Chicago – I needed to get something for Rita –"
"Wait, you mean the blonde with the yellow sportscar?"
"I'm not sure what she drives," Vivian said. "But her condo is on the top floor of Sentry Tower. From what I gather, she's somebody really important."
I let out a bitter scoff. "Yeah, no kidding."
Vivian gave me an odd look. "What's that about?"
"Long story. Never mind. You were saying…?"
"So anyway, she and I are in one of the convention rooms on the lower level when she asks me to dash up to her condo to get something. So of course I go." Vivian's lips thinned. "Trust me, you don't argue with Rita."
Now this I believed. She seemed like one tough cookie and just a little scary.Isure as heck wouldn't want to mess with her.
Vivian was still talking. "But when I walk into her condo, I see a bunch of framed photos on the wall." As she spoke, Vivian gave the photo in front us of a light tap. "Including this one."
Holy crap."You mean the same exact photo – with our brothers and everything?"
"Not exactly," Vivian said. "Rita's version was cut smaller to show only the one kid – Reese…or Buddy…or whatever he calls himself."
Vivian glanced toward the door. "Hang on. I'm gonna grab it from the car."
"Wait. So that's what you stole?"
"Notstole– borrowed, like I said." She left the trailer and returned a few moments later with a small framed photo. She placed it, frame and all, next to the larger one in my mom's album.
"See?" Vivian said. "Itisthe same photo. Isn't it?"
My gaze darted from photo to photo. "It sure looks like it." I zoomed in on the framed version, the one that had been hanging in Chicago. "And you recognized Reese just from this?" I was a little in awe. "Inever would have, not with him looking so different."But of course, I didn't have my sister's eagle eye.
"It wasn'thimI recognized, not at first. It was the hotel." On the framed version, Vivian pointed to something behind Reese's bony little shoulder – a blurry sign on the white fence surrounding the pool area.
The nearly unreadable sign listed the rules of the pool and included the name of our hotel in blurry blue letters at the very top.
Next to me, Vivian continued. "So then I getreallyinterested. And I'm staring at the photo for like ten whole minutes when it finally clicks." She turned and gave me a significant look. "And that's when I realized something."
